Astrophel and Stella: LXIV
by Sir Philip Sidney
No more, my dear, no more these counsels try;
Oh, give my passions leave to run their race;
Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace;
Let folk o’ercharg’d with brain against me cry;
Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye;
Let me no steps but of lost labour trace;
Let all the earth with scorn recount my case,
But do not will me from my love to fly.
I do not envy Aristotle’s wit,
Nor do aspire to Caesar’s bleeding fame;
Nor aught do care though some above me sit;
Nor hope nor wish another course to frame,
But that which once may win thy cruel heart:
Thou art my wit, and thou my virtue art.
End of the poem
15 random poems
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- Алексей Хомяков – Раскаявшейся России
- What the People Said by Rudyard Kipling
- A Song at Weicheng. by Wang Wei
- In Memoriam 3: O Sorrow, Cruel Fellowship poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- The Wife Of Usher’s Well poem – Andrew Lang poems
- The Princess (part 1) poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
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- A Melody By Scarlatti poem – Aldous Huxley poems | Poetry Monster
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- Stony Grey Soil by Patrick Kavanagh
- Кондратий Рылеев – К N. N. (Когда душа изнемогала)
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586) was an English courtier, statesman, soldier, diplomat, writer, and patron of scholars and poets. He was a godson of Philip II of Spain. Sir Philip Sidney was considered the ideal gentleman of his day. He is also one of the most important poets of the Elizabethan Era.