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Short poem

Sir Philip Sidney (1554-1586)

Astrophel and Stella LXIV

              1No more, my dear, no more these counsels try;
              2Oh, give my passions leave to run their race;
              3Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace;
              4Let folk o'ercharg'd with brain against me cry;
              5Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye;
              6Let me no steps but of lost labour trace;
              7Let all the earth with scorn recount my case,
              8But do not will me from my love to fly.
              9I do not envy Aristotle's wit,
            10Nor do aspire to Caesar's bleeding fame;
            11Nor aught do care though some above me sit;
            12Nor hope nor wish another course to frame,
            13But that which once may win thy cruel heart:
            14Thou art my wit, and thou my virtue art.


6] of lost labour: in vain.

Online text copyright © 2003, Ian Lancashire for the Department of English, University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: Sir Philip Sidney, Sir P. S. his Astrophel and Stella ([J. Charlewood] for T. Newman, 1591). STC 22536. Facs. edn.: Menston: Scolar Press, 1970. PR 2342 A7 1591A ROBA.
First publication date: 1591
RPO poem editor: F. D. Hoeniger
RP edition: 3RP 1:121.
Recent editing: 2:2002/4/11

Form: sonnet
Rhyme: abbaabbacdcdee

Other poems by Sir Philip Sidney