Astrophil and Stella — Sonnet LIX
Astrophil and Stella — Sonnet LIX
Sir Philip Sidney
Deere, why make you more of a dog then me?
If he doe loue, I burne, I burne in loue;
If he waite well, I neuer thence would moue;
If he be faire, yet but a dog can be;
Little he is, so little worth is he;
He barks, my songs thine owne voyce oft doth proue;
Bidden, perhaps he fetched thee a gloue,
But I, vnbid, fetch euen my soule to thee.
Yet, while I languish, him that bosome clips,
That lap doth lap, nay lets, in spite of spite,
This sowre-breath'd mate taste of those sugred lips.
Alas, if you graunt onely such delight
To witlesse things, then Loue, I hope (since wit
Becomes a clog) will soone ease me of it.
Verse breaks and indentation are preserved. Wrapped lines have a hanging indent. Width adapts to your screen.
108 sonnets and 11 songs. Source: Renascence Editions public-domain transcription. Two supplementary sonnets printed after CVIII are outside the sequence.
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