Sir Philip Sidney

(1554 - 1586 / Kent / England)

Leave Me, O Love, Which Reachest But To Dust - Poem by Sir Philip Sidney

Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust,
And thou my mind aspire to higher things:
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust:
Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings.

Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might,
To that sweet yoke, where lasting freedoms be:
Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light,
That doth both shine and give us sight to see.

O take fast hold, let that light be thy guide,
In this small course which birth draws out to death,
And think how evil becometh him to slide,
Who seeketh heaven, and comes of heavenly breath.
Then farewell world, thy uttermost I see,
Eternal Love, maintain thy life in me.


Comments about Leave Me, O Love, Which Reachest But To Dust by Sir Philip Sidney

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: farewell, evil, birth, heaven, light, death, world, love, life



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



[Report Error]