The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney In Three Volumes |
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OTHER SONNETS OF VARIABLE VERSE.
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 | The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney |  |
OTHER SONNETS OF VARIABLE VERSE.
First Sonnet.
[Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth]
[1]
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,Which now my brest surchargd with musick lendeth?
To you, to you all song of praise is due,
Onely in you my song begins and endeth.
2
Who hath the eyes which marrie state with pleasure,Who keepes the key of Natures chiefest treasure:
To you, to you al song of praise be due,
Onely for you the heavens forget all measure.
3
Who hath the lips where wit with fairenes raigneth,Who womenkinde at once both decks and staineth:
To you, to you all song of praise is due,
Onely by you Cupid his crowne maintaineth.
4
Who hath the feet whose steps al sweetnes planteth,Who els for whom Fame worthie trumpets wanteth:
To you, to you all song of praise be due,
Onely to you her scepter Venus granteth.
5
Who hath the brest whose milk doth patience nurish,Whose grace is such, that when it chides doth cherish:
To you, to you al song of praise be due,
Onely through you the tree of life doth flourish.
287
6
Who hath the hand which without stroke subduethWho long hid beautie with encrease reneueth:
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely at you al envie hopelesse endeth.
7
Who hath the haire which most loose most fast tieth,Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth:
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely of you the flattrer never lieth.
8
Who hath the voyce which soule from senses sunders,Whose force but yours the bolt of beautie thunders?
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely with you no miracles are wonders.
9
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,Which now my breast orechargd with musicke lendeth?
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely in you my song begins and endeth.
Second Sonnet.
[Have I caught my heavenly Juel]
[1]
Have I caught my heavenly JuelTeaching Sleepe most faire to be:
Now wil I teach her, that she
When she wakes is too too cruel.
2
Since sweete Sleep her eyes hath charmed,The two onely darts of Love:
Now will I with that Boy prove
Some play while he is disarmed.
3
Her tongue waking stil refuseth,Giving franklie niggard no:
Now wil I attempt to knowe,
What no her tongue sleeping useth.
4
See the hand that waking gardeth,Sleeping grants a free resort:
Now I wil invade the fort,
Cowards Love with losse rewardeth.
5
But (O foole) thinke of the dangerOf her just and high disdaine,
Now will I (alas) refraine
Love feares nothing else but anger.
288
6
Yet those lippes so sweetly swelling,Do invite a stealing kisse;
Now but venture will I this,
Who will read must first learne spelling.
7
Oh sweet kisse, but ah shee is waking,Lowring beautie chastens mee.
Now will I for feare hence flee,
Foole, more Foole for no more taking.
Third Sonnet.
[If Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musicks Love]
[1]
If Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musicks LoveThrough pores of senseles trees, as it could make them move;
If stones good measure daunst the Thebane walls to builde,
To cadence of the tunes which Amphions Lyre did yeeld,
More cause a like effect at least wise bringeth.
O stones, ô trees, learne hearing, Stella singeth,
2
If Love might sweeten so a boy of Shepheards brood,To make a Lyzard dull to taste Loves food:
If Eagle fierce could so in Grecian maide delight,
As her eyes were his light, her death his endlesse night:
Earth gave that Love, heaven (I trow) Love refineth.
O Beasts, ô Birds, looke Love; for Stella shineth.
3
The beasts, birds, stones, & trees feele this, & feeling love:And if the trees, nor stones stirre not the same to prove,
Nor beasts, nor birds doo come unto this blessed gaze;
Know that smal Love is quick, and great Love doth amaze;
They are amaz'd, but you with reason armed,
O eies O eares of men, how are you charmed?
Fourth Sonnet.
[Onely Joy, now here you are]
[1]
Onely Joy, now here you are,Fit to heare and ease my care;
Let my whispering voyce obtaine
Sweete rewards for sharpest paine:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
289
2
Night hath closde all in her cloke,Twinckling starres love thoughts provoke,
Danger hence good care doth keepe,
Jealozie himselfe doth sleepe:
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
3
Better place no wit can findeCupids knot to loose or binde,
These sweete flowers, our fine bed too,
Us in their best language wooe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.
4
This smal light the Moone bestoes,Serves thy beames for to disclose,
So to raise my heart more hie;
Feare not, els none can us spie:
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
5
That you heard was but a mouse,Dumbe Sleepe holdeth all the house,
Yet a sleepe (me thinkes) they say,
Yong fooles, take time while you may:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
6
Niggard time threates if we misseThis large offer of our blisse,
Long stay ere she graunt the same:
Sweet then, while ech thing doth frame
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
7
Your faire Mother is a bed,Candles out, and curtaines spred;
She thinkes you doo letters write:
Write, but first let me endite.
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.
290
8
Sweete, alas why strive you thus?Concord better fitteth us;
Leave to Mars the force of hands,
Your power in your beautie stands.
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
9
Woe to mee, and doo you sweareMe to hate but I forbeare?
Curst be my destnies all,
That brought mee so high to fall:
Soone with my death Ile please thee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
The fifth Sonnet.
[While favour fed my hope, delight with hope was brought]
[1]
While favour fed my hope, delight with hope was brought,Thought waited on delight, & speach did folow thought.
Then drew my tongue and pen records unto thy glorie;
I thought all words were lost that were not spent of thee,
I thought each place was darke but where thy lights would be,
And all eares worse then deaffe, that hard not out thy storie.
2
I said thou wert most faire, and so indeed thou art;I said thou wert most sweete, sweete poyson to my hart;
I said my soule was thine, ô would I then had lied;
I said thy eyes were starres, thy breasts the milken way,
Thy fingers Cupids shafts, thy voyce the Angels lay:
And all is said so well, that no man it denied.
3
But now that hope is lost, unkindnes kils delight,Yet thought and speach do live, thought metamorphisde quite,
For rage now rules the reynes, which guided were by pleasure,
I thinke now of thy faults, who late wrote of thy praise,
That speech falls now to blame which did thy honour raise:
The same key open can, which can locke up a treasure.
4
Then thou whom partiall heavens conspir'd in one to frameThe proofe of beauties worke, the inheritance of fame,
The mansion state of blisse, and just excuse of lovers:
See now those feathers pluckt wherewith thou flewst most hie,
See what cloudes of reproach shall darke thy honours skie;
Whome fault once casteth downe, hardly high state recovers.
291
5
And ô my Muse, though oft you luld her in your lap,And then a heavenly Childe gave her Ambrosian pap,
And to that braine of hers your highest gifts infused;
Since she disdaining me, doth you in me disdaine,
Suffer not her to laugh, and both we suffer paine:
Princes in subjects wrongs must deeme themselves abused.
6
Your client poore, my selfe, shall Stella handle so,Revenge, revenge, my Muse defiance trumpet blowe,
Threate, threat, what may be done; yet do no more but threaten:
Ah, my sute granted is, I feele my breast doth swell;
Now Childe, a lesson new you shall begin to spell,
Sweet babes must babies have, but shrewd girles must be beaten.
7
Thinke now no more to heare of warme fine shining snow,Nor blushing Lillyes, nor pearles Rubie hidden row,
Nor of that golden sea, whose waves in curles are broken:
But of thy soule fraught with such ungratefulnesse,
As where thou soone mightst help, most there thou dost oppresse
Ungrateful who is cald, the worst of ills is spoken.
8
Yet worse then worse, I say thou art a Thiefe. A thiefe?Now God forbid: a thiefe, and of worst thieves a thiefe;
Thieves steale for need, & steale for goods, which pain recovers
But thou, rich in all joyes, dost rob my goods from mee,
Which cannot be restorde by time nor industrie:
Of foes the spoyle is evill, farre more of constant lovers.
9
Yet gentle English thieves doo rob, and will not slay;Thou English murdring thiefe, wilt have hearts for thy pray.
The name of murdrer now on thy faire forhead sitteth,
And even while I do speake my death wounds bleeding bee,
Which I protest proceed from onely cruell thee,
Who may and will not save, murther in trueth committeth.
10
But murthers private fault seemes but a toy to thee.I lay then to thy charge unjustice Tirannie,
If rule by force without all claime, a Tyrant sheweth;
For thou art my hearts Lord, who am not borne thy slave,
And which is worse makes me most guiltles torments have,
A rightfull Prince by unrightfull deeds a Tyrant groweth.
292
11
Loe you grow proud with this, for Tyrants makes folk bow:Of foule rebellion then I do appeach thee now,
Rebels by Natures lawes rebel by way of reason;
Thou sweetest subject wert borne in the Realme of Love,
And yet against thy Prince, thy force dost daily prove,
No vertue merits praise, once toucht with blot of Treason.
12
But valiant Rebels oft in fooles mouths purchase fame,I now then staine thy white with blackest blot of shame,
Both Rebel to the Sonne, and vagrant from the Mother;
For wearing Venus badge, in every part of thee,
Unto Dianaes traine thou runnaway didst flie:
Who faileth one is false, though trustie to another.
13
What is not this enough, nay farre worse commeth here:A Witch I say thou art, though thou so faire appeare.
For I protest, mine eyes never thy sight enjoyeth,
But I in mee am chang'd, I am alive and dead.
My feete are turn'd to rootes, my heart becommeth lead,
No witchcraft is so ill, as which mans minde destroyeth,
14
Yet Witches may repent, thou art farre worse than they:Alas, that I am forst such evill of thee to say:
I say thou art a Divel though cloathd in Angels shining:
For thy face tempts my soule to leave the heavens for thee,
And thy words of refuse doo powre even hell on mee:
Who tempts, and tempted plagues are Divels in true defining.
15
You then ungrateful theefe, you murthering Tyrant you,You Rebel runnaway to Lord and Lady untrue,
You witch, you Divel (alas) you still of me beloved,
You see what I can say; mend yet your froward minde,
And such skill in my Muse you reconcil'd shall finde,
That by these cruell words your praises shalbe proved.
The sixth Sonnet.
[O you that heare this voice]
[1]
O you that heare this voice,O you that see this face,
Say whether of the choice,
Deserves the better place,
Feare not to judge this bate,
For it is voide of hate.
293
2
This side doth Beautie take,For that doth Musicke speake,
Fit Orators to make,
The strongest judgements weake,
The barre to plead the right,
Is onely true delight.
3
Thus doth the voice and face,The gentle Lawiers wage,
Like loving brothers case,
For Father's heritage,
That each while each contends,
It selfe to other lends.
4
For Beautie beautifiesWith heavenly view and grace,
The heavenly harmonies;
And in this faultles face
The perfect beauties bee,
A perfect harmonie.
5
Musicke more lustie swelsIn speeches noblie placed,
Beautie as farre excels
In actions aptly graced.
A friend each partie drawes,
To countenance his cause.
6
Love more affected seemesTo Beauties lovely light,
And Wonder more esteemes
Of Musicks wondrous might;
But both to both so bent,
As both in both are spent.
7
Musicke doth witnes callThe eare, his truth to trie:
Beauty brings to the hall
The judgement of the eie:
Both in their objects such,
As no exceptions tuch.
294
8
The common Sense which mightBe arbitrer of this,
To be forsooth upright,
To both sides partiall is:
He laies on this chiefe praise,
Chiefe praise on that he laies.
9
Then reason Princesse hie,Whose throne is in the minde;
Which Musicke can in skie,
And hidden Beauties finde:
Say, whether thou wilt crowne
With limitlesse renowne.
The seventh Sonnet.
[Whose senses in so evill comfort their stepdame Nature laies]
[1]
Whose senses in so evill comfort their stepdame Nature laies,That ravishing delight in them most sweete tunes doth not raise,
Or if they doe delight therein yet are so cloid with wit,
As with sententious lips to set a little vaine on it:
O let them hear these sacred tunes, & learn in wonders scholes,
To be (in things past boūds of wit) fooles, if they be not fooles.
[2]
Who have so leaden eyes, as not to see sweete Beauties showe:Or seeing, have so wooden wits as not that worth to knowe;
Or knowing, have so muddie mindes, as not to be in love;
Or loving, have so frothie hearts, as easie thence to move:
O, let them see these heavenly beames, and in faire letters reed
A lesson, fit both sight and skill, Love & firme Love to breed.
3
Hear then, but then with wonder hear; see, but admiring see;No mortal gifts, no earthly frutes now here discerned bee:
See, doo you see this face: a face, nay image of the skyes,
Of which, the two life-giving lights are figured in her eyes:
Heare you this soule-invading voyce, & count it but a voyce,
The verie essence of their tunes, when Angels doo rejoyce.
The eighth.
[In a grove most rich of shade]
[1]
In a grove most rich of shade;Where birds wanton Musicke made:
Maie then young his pide weeds shewing,
New perfumes with flowrs fresh growing.
295
2
Astrophel with Stella sweete,Did for mutual comfort meete:
Both within themselves oppressed,
But either in each other blessed.
3
Him great harmes had taught much care,Her faire necke a foule yoke bare:
But hir sight his cares did banish,
In his sight hir yoke did vanish.
4
Wept they had, alas the while:But now teares themselves did smile,
While their eyes by Love directed,
Interchangeablie reflected.
5
Sighd they had: but now betwixtSighs of woe were glad sighs mixt:
With armes crost, yet testifying
Restles rest, and living dying.
6
Their eares hungrie of each wordWhich the deare tongue would afford,
But their tongues restraind from walking,
Till their harts had ended talking.
7
But when their tongues could not speak,Love it selfe did silence breake:
Love did set his lips asunder,
Thus to speake in love and wonder.
8
Stella, Sovereigne of my joy,Fair Triumphres in annoy:
Stella, Starre of heavenly fire,
Stella, loadstarre of desire.
9
Stella, in whose shining eyesAre the lights of Cupids skyes,
Whose beames where they are once darted
Love therewith is straight imparted.
10
Stella, whose voyce when it speakes,Senses all asunder breakes:
Stella, whose voyce when it singeth,
Angels to acquaintance bringeth.
296
11
Stella, in whose bodie isWrit the caracters of blis:
Whose sweete face all beauty passeth,
Save the minde which it surpasseth.
12
Graunt, ô graunt, but speach (alas)Failes me, fearing on to passe:
Graunt to me, what am I saying?
But no sinne there is in praying.
13
Graunt (ô Deare) on knees I pray(Knees on ground he then did stay)
That not I, but since I prove you,
Time and place for me nere move you.
14
Never season was more fit,Never roome more apt for it:
Smiling aire allowes my reason:
These birds sing; now use the season.
15
This small winde which so sweete is,See how it the leaves doth kis;
Each tree in his best attyring,
Sense of Love to Love inspiring.
16
Love makes earth the water drinke,Love to earth makes water sinke:
And if dumb things be so wittie,
Shall a heavenly Grace want pittie?
17
There his hands (in their speach) faineWould have made tongues language plaine:
But her hands his hands compelling,
Gave repulse, all grace expelling.
18
Therewithall, away she went,Leaving him with passion rent,
With what she had done and spoken,
That therewith my song is broken.
297
The ninth Sonnet.
[Goe my Flocke, goe get you hence]
[1]
Goe my Flocke, goe get you hence,Seeke a better place of feeding,
Where you may have some defence
From the stormes in my breast bleeding,
And showers from mine eyes proceeding.
2
Leave a wretch in whom all woe,Can abide to keepe no measure;
Merrie Flocke, such one forgoe
Unto whom mirth is displeasure,
Onely rich in measures treasure.
3
Yet alas before you goe,Heare your wofull Masters storie,
Which to stones I else would showe;
Sorrow onely then hath glorie,
When tis excellently sorie.
4
Stella, fairest Shepheardesse,Fairest, but yet cruelst ever;
Stella, whom the heavens still blesse,
Though against me she persever,
Though I blisse inherit never.
5
Stella hath refused mee,Stella, who more love hath proved
In this caitiffe hart to bee,
Than can in good to us be moved
Towards Lambkins best beloved,
6
Stella hath refused meeAstrophel that so well served.
In this pleasant Spring (Muse) see,
While in pride flowers be preserved,
Himselfe onely, winter starved.
7
Why (alas) then doth she sweareThat she loveth me so deerly;
Seeing me so long to beare
Coales of love that burne so cleerly:
And yet leave me hopelesse meerly.
298
8
Is that love? forsooth I trow,If I saw my good dogg grieved,
And a helpe for him did know,
My love should not be beleeved,
But he were by me releeved.
9
No, she hates me (welaway)Faining love, somewhat to please me;
Knowing, if she should display
All her hate, death soone would seaze me,
And of hideous torments ease me.
10
Then my deare Flocke now adieu:But alas, if in your straying
Heavenly Stella meete with you
Tell her in your piteous blaying,
Her poore Slaves just decaying.
The tenth Sonnet.
[O deere Life, when shall it bee]
[1]
O deere Life, when shall it bee,That mine eyes thine eyes shall see,
And in them thy minde discover,
Whether absense have had force
Thy remembrance to divorce
From the image of thy Lover?
2
O if I my selfe finde notBy thine absence oft forgot,
Nor debard from Beauties treasure,
Let no tongue aspire to tell
In what high joyes I shall dwell,
Onely thought aimes at the pleasure.
3
Thought therefore will I send theeTo take up the place for mee,
Long I will not after tarrie:
There unseene, thou maist be bold
Those faire wonders to behold,
Which in them my hopes doo carrie.
299
4
Thought, see thou no place forbeare,Enter bravely everie where,
Seaze on all to her belonging:
But if thou wouldst garded bee,
Fearing her beames, take with thee
Strength of liking, rage of longing.
5
O my Thoughts, my Thoughts surcease,Your delights my woes encrease,
My life fleetes with too much thinking:
Thinke no more, but die in mee,
Till thou shalt received bee,
At her lips my Nectar drinking.
Finis Syr P. S.
SONNET XXXVII.
[My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell]
My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell,My tongue doth itch, my thoughts in labour be:
Listen then Lordings with good eare to me,
For of my life I must a riddle tell.
Toward Auroras Court a Nymph doth dwell,
Rich in all beauties which mans eye can see:
Beauties so farre from reach of words, that we
Abase her praise, saying she doth excell:
Rich in the treasure of deserv'd renowne,
Rich in the riches of a royall hart,
Rich in those gifts which give th'eternall crowne;
Who though most rich in these and everie part,
Which make the patents of true worldly blisse,
Hath no misfortune, but that Rich she is.
300
ELEVENTH SONG.
[Who is it that this darke night]
Who is it that this darke night,
Underneath my window playneth?
It is one who from thy sight,
Being (ah) exild, disdayneth
Every other vulgar light.
Underneath my window playneth?
It is one who from thy sight,
Being (ah) exild, disdayneth
Every other vulgar light.
Why alas, and are you he?
Be not yet those fancies changed?
Deere when you find change in me,
Though from me you be estranged,
Let my chaunge to ruine be.
Be not yet those fancies changed?
Deere when you find change in me,
Though from me you be estranged,
Let my chaunge to ruine be.
Well in absence this will dy,
Leave to see, and leave to wonder:
Absence sure will helpe, if I
Can learne, how my selfe to sunder
From what in my hart doth ly.
Leave to see, and leave to wonder:
Absence sure will helpe, if I
Can learne, how my selfe to sunder
From what in my hart doth ly.
But time will these thoughts remove:
Time doth worke what no man knoweth,
Time doth as the subject prove,
With time still the affection groweth
In the faithfull Turtle dove.
Time doth worke what no man knoweth,
Time doth as the subject prove,
With time still the affection groweth
In the faithfull Turtle dove.
What if you new beauties see,
Will not they stir new affection?
I will thinke thy pictures be,
(Image like of Saints perfection)
Poorely counterfeting thee.
Will not they stir new affection?
I will thinke thy pictures be,
(Image like of Saints perfection)
Poorely counterfeting thee.
But your reasons purest light,
Bids you leave such minds to nourish?
Deere, do reason no such spite,
Never doth thy beauty florish
More, then in my reasons sight.
Bids you leave such minds to nourish?
Deere, do reason no such spite,
Never doth thy beauty florish
More, then in my reasons sight.
301
But the wrongs love beares, will make
Love at length leave undertaking;
No the more fooles it do shake,
In a ground of so firme making,
Deeper still they drive the stake.
Love at length leave undertaking;
No the more fooles it do shake,
In a ground of so firme making,
Deeper still they drive the stake.
Peace, I thinke that some give eare:
Come no more, least I get anger.
Blisse, I will my blisse forbeare,
Fearing (sweete) you to endanger,
But my soule shall harbour thee.
Come no more, least I get anger.
Blisse, I will my blisse forbeare,
Fearing (sweete) you to endanger,
But my soule shall harbour thee.
Well, be gone, be gone I say,
Lest that Argus eyes perceive you,
O unjust fortunes sway,
Which can make me thus to leave you,
And from lowts to run away.
Lest that Argus eyes perceive you,
O unjust fortunes sway,
Which can make me thus to leave you,
And from lowts to run away.
| The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney | |