 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
[Looke up fayre Liddes, the Treasures of my harte]
Looke up fayre Liddes, the Treasures of my harte,
Preserve those Beames, this Ages onely Lighte,
To her sweete Sence, sweete Sleepe some ease imparte
Her Sence too weyke to beare her Spirites mighte,
And whyle, O Sleepe, thow closest up her sighte,
(Her sighte where Love did forge his fayrest Darte)
O Harboure all her partes in easefull plighte,
Lett no straunge Dreame make her fayre body starte:
Preserve those Beames, this Ages onely Lighte,
To her sweete Sence, sweete Sleepe some ease imparte
Her Sence too weyke to beare her Spirites mighte,
And whyle, O Sleepe, thow closest up her sighte,
(Her sighte where Love did forge his fayrest Darte)
O Harboure all her partes in easefull plighte,
Lett no straunge Dreame make her fayre body starte:
But, yet O Dreame yf thow wilt not Departe?
In this rare Subject from thy Comon Righte,
But wilt thy self in suche a Seate delighte,
Then take my Shape and play a Lovers parte.
Kisse her from mee, and say unto her Sprite,
Till her eyes shyne, I live in darckest lighte.
In this rare Subject from thy Comon Righte,
But wilt thy self in suche a Seate delighte,
Then take my Shape and play a Lovers parte.
Kisse her from mee, and say unto her Sprite,
Till her eyes shyne, I live in darckest lighte.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |