Poems by Sir Philip Sidney
Sonnet 13: Phoebus Was Judge
... Which through a bleeding heart his point did shove: ...
Sonnet 42: Oh Eyes, Which Do The Spheres
... Wracks triumphs be, which Love (high set) doth breed ...
Sonnet 56: Fie, School Of Patience
... When I might read those letters fair of bliss, ...
Sonnet 103: Oh Happy Thames
... And fain those Aeol's youth there would their stay ...
Sonnet 63: Oh Grammar Rules
... For late, with heart most high, with eyes most low, ...
Sonnet 107: Stella, Since Thou So Right
... Which pants as though it still should leap to thee, ...
Sonnet 27: Because I Oft
... To them that would make speech of speech arise, ...
Sonnet 57: Woe, Having Made With Many Fights
... The thoroughest words, fit for Woe's self to groan, ...
Sonnet 80: Sweet Swelling Lip
... Nature's praise, Virtue's stall, Cupid's cold fire, ...
Sonnet 76: She Comes, And Straight Therewith
... But with short breath, long looks, staid feet and walking head, ...
Sonnet 85: I See The House
... But give apt servants their due place: let eyes ...
Sonnet 79: Sweet kiss, Thy Sweets I Fain
... The friendly fray, where blows both wound and heal, ...
Sonnet 29: Like Some Weak Lords
... So Stella's heart finding what power Love brings, ...
You Gote-herd Gods
... She, whose lest word brings from the spheares their musique, ...
Sonnet 15: You That Do Search
... But if (both for your love and skill) your name ...
