Sir Philip Sidney

(1554 - 1586 / Kent / England)

Sir Philip Sidney Poems

1. The Nightingale 5/21/2015
2. Sonnet 97: Dian, That Fain Would Cheer 4/12/2010
3. Sonnet 96: Thought, With Good Cause 4/12/2010
4. Sonnet 92: Be Your Words Made 4/12/2010
5. Sonnet 94: Grief Find The Words 4/12/2010
6. Sonnet 95: Yet Sighs, Dear Sighs 4/12/2010
7. Sonnet 99: When Far-Spent Night 4/12/2010
8. Sonnet Iv: Virtue, Alas 1/3/2003
9. You Gote-Heard Gods 1/3/2003
10. Sonnet 77: Those Looks, Whose Beams Be Joy 4/12/2010
11. Sonnet 86: Alas, Whence Come This Change Of Looks? 4/12/2010
12. Sonnet Xv: You That Do Search 1/3/2003
13. Sonnet 98: Ah Bed, The Field Where Joy's Peace 4/12/2010
14. Sonnet Lxxxiv: Highway 1/3/2003
15. Sonnet Xi: In Truth, Oh Love 1/3/2003
16. Sonnet Xxviii: You That With Allegory's Curious Frame 1/3/2003
17. Sonnet 79: Sweet Kiss, Thy Sweets I Fain 4/12/2010
18. Sonnet 90: Stella, Think Not That I 4/12/2010
19. Sonnet 83: Good, Brother Philip 4/12/2010
20. Sonnet 85: I See The House 4/12/2010
21. Sonnet Xiv: Alas, Have I Not 1/3/2003
22. Sonnet Xiii: Phoebus Was Judge 1/3/2003
23. Sonnet Xxix: Like Some Weak Lords 1/3/2003
24. Sonnet Xxvii: Because I Oft 1/3/2003
25. Sonnet Ii: Not At First Sight 1/3/2003
26. Sonnet Xxv: The Wisest Scholar 1/3/2003
27. Sonnet Xii: Cupid, Because Thou 1/3/2003
28. Sonnet 75: Of All The Kings 4/12/2010
29. Sonnet 66: And Do I See Some Cause 4/12/2010
30. Sonnet 67: Hope, Art Thou True 4/12/2010
31. Sonnet 61: Oft With True Sighs 4/12/2010
32. Sonnet 53: In Martial Sports 4/12/2010
33. Sonnet 104: Envious Wits 4/12/2010
34. Sonnet 32: Morpheus The Lively Son 4/12/2010
35. Sonnet Xxvi: Though Dusty Wits 1/3/2003
36. Sonnet 76: She Comes, And Straight Therewith 4/12/2010
37. Sonnet 80: Sweet Swelling Lip 4/12/2010
38. Sonnet 82: Nymph Of The Garden 4/12/2010
39. Sonnet Ix: Queen Virtue's Court 1/3/2003
40. Sonnet Lxxi: Who Will In Fairest Book 1/3/2003

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Best Poem of Sir Philip Sidney

Leave Me, O Love Which Reachest But To Dust

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 ...

Read the full of Leave Me, O Love Which Reachest But To Dust

Sonnet Vii: When Nature

When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In color black why wrapp'd she beams so bright?
Would she in beamy black, like painter wise,
Frame daintiest lustre, mix'd of shades and light?

Or did she else that sober hue devise,
In object best to knit and strength our sight,
Lest if no veil those brave gleams did disguise,
They sun-like should more dazzle than delight?

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