 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
50
[Get hence foule Griefe, the canker of the minde]
Get
hence foule Griefe, the canker of the minde:
Farewell Complaint, the misers only pleasure:
Away vayne Cares, by which fewe men do finde
Their sought-for treasure.
Farewell Complaint, the misers only pleasure:
Away vayne Cares, by which fewe men do finde
Their sought-for treasure.
Ye helplesse Sighes, blowe out your breath to nought,
Teares, drowne your selves, for woe (your cause) is wasted,
Thought, thinke to ende, too long the frute of thought
My minde hath tasted.
Teares, drowne your selves, for woe (your cause) is wasted,
Thought, thinke to ende, too long the frute of thought
My minde hath tasted.
But thou, sure Hope, tickle my leaping heart.
Comfort, step thou in place of wonted sadnes.
Fore-felt Desire, begin to savour parts
Of comming gladnes.
Comfort, step thou in place of wonted sadnes.
Fore-felt Desire, begin to savour parts
Of comming gladnes.
Let voice of Sighes into cleare musike runne,
Eyes, let your Teares with gazing now be mended,
In stede of Thought, true pleasure be begunne,
And never ended.
Eyes, let your Teares with gazing now be mended,
In stede of Thought, true pleasure be begunne,
And never ended.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |