Sir Philip Sidney

(1554 - 1586 / Kent / England)

Sir Philip Sidney Poems

121. Sonnet 37: My Mouth Doth Water 4/12/2010
122. Sonnet 65: Love By Sure Proof 4/12/2010
123. Voices At The Window 1/3/2003
124. Philomela 1/3/2003
125. Astrophel And Stella: Xxiii 1/1/2004
126. Psalm 23 4/12/2010
127. Sonnet I: Loving In Truth 1/3/2003
128. Astrophel And Stella: Xli 1/1/2004
129. The Highway 1/3/2003
130. Leave Me, O Love, Which Reachest But To Dust 1/3/2003
131. This Lady's Cruelty 1/4/2003
132. Sonnet Xxxi: With How Sad Steps, O Moon 1/3/2003
133. Ring Out Your Bells 1/3/2003
134. Astrophel And Stella: Iii 1/1/2004
135. Sleep 1/3/2003
136. Astrophel And Stella: Xv 1/1/2004
137. Astrophel And Stella: Xx 1/1/2004
138. Astrophel And Stella: Xxxiii 1/1/2004
139. Astrophel And Stella Lxxxiv: Highway 1/1/2004
140. Astrophel And Stella Vii: Whennature Made Her Chief Work 1/1/2004
141. Astrophel And Stella: Lxxi 1/1/2004
142. Astrophel And Stella: Xxxi 1/1/2004
143. Astrophel And Stella-Eleventh Song 1/13/2003
144. Astrophel And Stella: Xcii 1/1/2004
145. Astrophel And Stella: Xxxix 1/1/2004
146. Astrophel And Stella-First Song 1/13/2003
147. Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet Xxxi 1/13/2003
148. The Bargain 1/4/2003
149. Astrophel And Stella-Sonnet Liv 1/13/2003
150. Loving In Truth, And Fain In Verse My Love To Show 1/13/2003
151. To The Sad Moon 1/13/2003
152. Astrophel And Stella: Lxiv 1/1/2004
153. Thou Blind Man's Mark 1/3/2003
154. Come Sleep, O Sleep! The Certain Knot Of Peace 1/13/2003
155. Astrophel And Stella: I 1/1/2004
156. My True Love Hath My Heart, And I Have His 1/13/2003
157. Leave Me, O Love Which Reachest But To Dust 1/13/2003

Comments about Sir Philip Sidney

  • h8ter (3/26/2018 11:30:00 AM)

    i hop u die alone lozr

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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 X: Reason

Reason, in faith thou art well serv'd, that still
Wouldst brabbling be with sense and love in me:
I rather wish'd thee climb the Muses' hill,
Or reach the fruit of Nature's choicest tree,

Or seek heav'n's course, or heav'n's inside to see:
Why shouldst thou toil our thorny soil to till?
Leave sense, and those which sense's objects be:
Deal thou with powers of thoughts, leave love to will.

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