Posted by Helen on September 12, 1997 at 06:54:39:
In reply to Some poems #3 posted by Helen on September 12, 1997 at 06:51:50
Couldn't stop without a contribution from my hero, Philip Sidney, Renaissance poet, courtier, gentleman, hero, all-round good guy.
The first is unbearable if you're in love and looking at the moon; the second is one of the few poems I know which express happiness perfectly: one for Darcy and Elizabeth, I think (I'm sure they read this in the Library at Pemberley together)
Sonnet from "Astrophil and Stella"
Philip Sidney
With how sad steps, oh 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 archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case:
I read it in thy looks; thy languished grace
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.
Then, even of fellowship, oh Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deemed there but want of wit?
Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?
Do they call "virtue" there ungratefulness?
Song from "Arcadia"
Philip Sidney
My true love hath my heart, and I have his!
By just exchange, one for another given.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss.
There never was a better bargain driven.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his!
His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides.
He loves my heart, for once it was his own:
I cherish his, because in me it bides.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his!
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