Sir Philip Sidney: Всі вірші поета

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Sonnet 24: Rich Fools There Be

Rich fools there be, whose base and filthy heart

Lies hatching still the goods wherein they flow:

And damning their own selves to Tantal's smart,

Wealth breeding want, more blist more wretched grow.

Yet to those fools heav'n such wit doth impart

As what their hands do hold, their heads do know,

And knowing love, and loving, lay apart,

As sacred things, far from all danger's show.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 14: Alas, Have I Not

Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend,

Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire,

Than did on him who first stole down the fire,

While Love on me doth all his quiver spend,

But with your rhubarb words you must contend,

To grieve me worse, in saying that desire

Doth plunge my well-form'd soul even in the mire

Of sinful thoughts, which do in ruin end?

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 54: Because I Breathe

Because I breathe not love to every one,

Nor do not use set colours for to wear,

Nor nourish special locks of vowed hair,

Nor give each speech a full point of a groan,

The courtly nymphs, acquainted with the moan

Of them who in their lips Love's standard bear,

"What, he!" say they of me, "now I dare swear

He cannot love. No, no, let him alone."—

by Sir Philip Sidney

Ring Out Your Bells

Ring out your bells, let mourning shows be spread;

For Love is dead—

All love is dead, infected

With plague of deep disdain;

Worth, as nought worth, rejected,

And Faith fair scorn doth gain.

From so ungrateful fancy,

From such a female franzy,

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 6: Some Lovers Speak

Some lovers speak when they their Muses entertain,

Of hopes begot by fear, of wot not what desires:

Of force of heav'nly beams, infusing hellish pain:

Of living deaths, dear wounds, fair storms, and freezing fires.

Some one his song in Jove, and Jove's strange tales attires,

Broidered with bulls and swans, powdered with golden rain;

Another humbler wit to shepherd's pipe retires,

Yet hiding royal blood full oft in rural vein.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 3: Let Dainty Wits

Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine,

That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told;

Or, Pindar's apes, flaunt they in phrases fine,

Enam'ling with pied flowers their thoughts of gold.

Or else let them in statelier glory shine,

Ennobling newfound tropes with problems old;

Or with strange similes enrich each line,

Of herbs or beasts which Ind or Afric hold.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 41: Having This Day My Horse

Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance

Guided so well that I obtain'd the prize,

Both by the judgment of the English eyes

And of some sent from that sweet enemy France;

Horsemen my skill in horsemanship advance,

Town folks my strength; a daintier judge applies

His praise to sleight which from good use doth rise;

Some lucky wits impute it but to chance;

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 29: Like Some Weak Lords

Like some weak lords, neighbor'd by mighty kings,

To keep themselves and their chief cities free,

Do easily yield, that all their coasts may be

Ready to store their camps of needful things:

So Stella's heart finding what power Love brings,

To keep itself in life and liberty,

Doth willing grant, that in the frontiers he

Use all to help his other conquerings:

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 9: Queen Virtue's Court

Queen Virtue's court, which some call Stella's face,

Prepar'd by Nature's choicest furniture,

Hath his front built of alabaster pure;

Gold in the covering of that stately place.

The door by which sometimes comes forth her Grace

Red porphir is, which lock of pearl makes sure,

Whose porches rich (which name of cheeks endure)

Marble mix'd red and white do interlace.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Sonnet 2: Not At First Sight

Not at first sight, nor with a dribbed shot

Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed;

But known worth did in mine of time proceed,

Till by degrees it had full conquest got:

I saw and liked, I liked but loved not;

I lov'd, but straight did not what Love decreed.

At length to love's decrees I, forc'd, agreed,

Yet with repining at so partial lot.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Psalm 19: Coeli Enarrant

The heavenly frame sets forth the fame

Of him that only thunders;

The firmament, so strangely bent,

Shows his handworking wonders.

Day unto day doth it display,

Their course doth it acknowledge,

And night to night succeeding right

In darkness teach clear knowledge.

by Sir Philip Sidney

Astrophel And Stella-First Song

Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,

Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?

To you, to you, all song of praise is due;

Only in you my song begins and endeth.

Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?

Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?

To you, to you, all song of praise is due;

Only for you the heaven forgat all measure.

by Sir Philip Sidney