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Philip Sidney
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Philip Sidney
(1554–86)
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All poems by Philip Sidney on Kalliope, ordered alphabetically by the first line of the text. The list can be used to find a poem when the title is unknown.
A
Ah, bed! the field where Ioyes peace some do see
Alas, haue I not pain enough, my friend
Alas, whence came this change of lookes? If I
And do I see some cause a hope to feede
As good to write, as for to lie and grone
A strife is growne between Vertue and Loue
B
Because I breathe not loue to euery one
Because I oft in darke abstracted guise
Be your words made, good Sir, of Indian ware
C
Come, let me write. And to what end? To ease
Come, Sleepe! O Sleepe, the certaine knot of peace
Cupid, because thou shin’st in Stellaes eyes
D
Deere, why make you more of a dog then me
Desire, though thou my old companion art
Dian, that faine would cheare her friend the Night
Doubt there hath beene when with his golden chaine
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth
E
Enuious wits, what hath bene mine offence
F
Faire eyes, sweet lips, dear heart, that foolish I
Fly, fly, my friends; I haue my deaths wound, fly
Fy, schoole of Patience, fy! your Lesson is
G
Go, my Flocke, go, get you hence
Good brother Philip, I haue borne you long
Griefe, find the words; for thou hast made my braine
H
Haue I caught my heau’nly iewell
Hauing this day my horse, my hand, my launce
High way, since you my chiefe Pernassus be
His mother deere, Cupid offended late
Hope, art thou true, or doest thou flatter me
I
I curst thee oft, I pitie now thy case
If Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musickes loue
I might (vnhappy word!) O me, I might
In a groue most rich of shade
I neuer dranke of Aganippe well
In highest way of heau’n the Sun did ride
In martiall sports I had my cunning tride
In nature, apt to like, when I did see
In truth, O Loue, with what a boyish kind
I on my horse, and Loue on me, doth trie
I see the house, (my heart thy selfe containe!)
It is most true that eyes are form’d to serue
L
Late tyr’d with wo, euen ready for to pine
Leaue, me, O loue which reachest but to dust
Leave me, O Love, which reachest but to dust
Let dainty wits crie on the Sisters nine
Like some weak lords neighbord by mighty kings
Loue, borne in Greece, of late fled from his natiue place
Loue, by sure proofe I may call thee vnkind
Loue, still a Boy, and oft a wanton is
Louing in trueth, and fayne in verse my loue to show
M
Morpheus, the liuely sonne of deadly Sleepe
Muses, I oft inuoked your holy ayde
My mouth doth water, and my breast doth swell
My Muse may well grudge at my heau’nly ioy
My true-love hath my heart and I have his
My words I know do well set forth my minde
N
No more, my deare, no more these counsels trie
Not at the first sight, nor with a dribbed shot
Now that of absence the most irksom night
Nymph of the garden where all beauties be
O
O absent presence! Stella is not here
O deare Life, when shall it bee
O eyes, which do the spheres of beauty moue
Of all the Kings that euer here did raigne
O fate, O fault, O curse, child of my blisse!
Oft with true sighs, oft with vncalled teares
O grammer-rules, O now your vertues show
O happie Thames, that didst my Stella beare!
O how the pleasant ayres of true loue be
O ioy to high for my low stile to show
O kisse, which dost those ruddie gemmes impart
On Cupids bowe how are my heart-strings bent
Onely Ioy, now here you are
O teares! no teares, but raine, from Beauties skies
Out, traytor Absence, dar’st thou counsell me
O you that heare this voice
P
Pardon mine ears, both I and they do pray
Phoebus was iudge betweene Ioue, Mars, and Loue
Q
Queen Virtues Court, which some call Stellaes face
R
Reason, in faith thou art well seru’d that still
Rich fooles there be whose base and filthy heart
S
She comes, and streight therewith her shining twins do moue
Some louers speake, when they their Muses entertaine
Soules ioy, bend not those morning starres from me
Stella is sicke, and in that sicke-bed lies
Stella oft sees the very face of wo
Stella, since thou so right a princesse art
Stella, the fullnesse of my thoughts of thee
Stella, the onely planet of my light
Stella, thinke not that I by verse seeke fame
Stella, whence doth these new assaults arise
Stella, while now, by Honours cruell might
Sweet kisse, thy sweets I faine would sweetly endite
Sweet-swelling lip, well maist thou swell in pride
T
The curious wits, seeing dull pensiuenesse
The wisest scholler of the wight most wise
This night, while sleepe begins with heauy wings
Those lookes, whose beames be ioy, whose motion is delight
Thou blind mans marke, thou fooles selfe-chosen snare
Thou blind man’s mark, thou fool’s self-chosen snare
Though dustie wits dare scorne Astrologie
Thought, with good cause thou lik’st so well the night
V
Vertue, alas, now let me take some rest
Vnhappie sight, and hath shee vanisht by
W
What, haue I thus betray’d my libertie
What may words say, or what may words not say
When far-spent Night perswades each mortall eye
When I was forst from Stella euer deere
When my good Angell guides me to the place
When Nature made her chief worke, Stellas eyes
When Sorrow (vsing mine owne fiers might)
Where be those roses gone, which sweetned so our eyes?
Whether the Turkish new moone minded be
While fauour fed my hope, delight with hope was brought
Who hauing made, with many fights, his owne
Who is it that this darke night
Whose senses in so euill consort their stepdame Nature laies
Who will in fairest booke of Nature know
With how sad steps, O Moone, thou climbst the skies!
With what sharp checkes I in myself am shent
Y
Yet sighes, deare sighs, indeede true friends you are
Your words, my friend, (right healthfull caustiks), blame
You that do search for euery purling spring
You that with Allegories curious frame
