Henry Constable

(1562-1613 / England)

On The Death Of Sir Philip Sidney - Poem by Henry Constable

GIVE pardon, blessed soul, to my bold cries,
If they, importune, interrupt thy song,
Which now with joyful notes thou sing'st among
The angel-quiristers of th' heavenly skies.
Give pardon eke, sweet soul, to my slow eyes,
That since I saw thee now it is so long,
And yet the tears that unto thee belong
To thee as yet they did not sacrifice.
I did not know that thou wert dead before;
I did not feel the grief I did sustain;
The greater stroke astonisheth the more;
Astonishment takes from us sense of pain;
   I stood amazed when others' tears begun,
   And now begin to weep when they have done.


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Read poems about / on: angel, grief, song, pain, death, sky



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



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