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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 4011. | Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet LIV by Sir Philip Sidney | | 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 fu... |
| 4012. | Astrophel And Stella-Eleventh Song by Sir Philip Sidney | | "Who is it that this dark night
Underneath my window plaineth?"
'It is one who from thy sight
Being, ah! exiled, disdaineth
Every other vulgar lig... |
| 4013. | Sonnet XXXI: With How Sad Steps, O Moon by Sir Philip Sidney | | With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What, may it be that even in heav'nly place
That busy a... |
| 4014. | Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet XXXI by Sir Philip Sidney | | With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy a... |
| 4015. | Astrophel And Stella-First Song by Sir Philip Sidney | | 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 ... |
| 4016. | Sonnet III: With how sad steps by Sir Philip Sidney | | With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies!
How silently, and with how wan a face!
What! may it be that even in heavenly place
That busy a... |
| 4017. | Astrophel And Stella - Sonnet CVIII by Sir Philip Sidney | | When Sorrow, using mine own fire's might,
Melts down his lead into my boiling breast,
Through that dark furnace to my heart oppressed,
Ther... |
| 4018. | Philomela by Sir Philip Sidney | | The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
Sings o... |
| 4019. | Sonnet XXXIX: Come, Sleep! by Sir Philip Sidney | | Come Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release,
Th' indif... |
| 4020. | Sonnet VI: Some Lovers Speak by Sir Philip Sidney | | 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 p... |
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