Syr P.S. His Astrophel and Stella Wherein the excellence of sweete poesie is concluded. To the end of which are added, sundry other rare sonnets of diuers noble men and gentlemen.
Sidney, Philip, Sir, 1554-1586., Newman, Thomas, fl. 1587-1598. aut, Nash, Thomas, 1567-1601. aut, Daniel, Samuel, 1562-1619. aut

The eighth.

IN a groue most rich of shade;
Where birds wanton Musicke made:
Maie then young his pide weeds shewing,
New perfumes with flowrs fresh growing.
Astrophel with Stella sweete,
Did for mutual comfort meete:
Both within themselues oppressed,
But either in each other blessed.
Him great harmes had taught much care,
Her faire necke a foule yoke bare:
But hir sight his cares did banish,
In his sight hir yoke did vanish.
Wept they had, alas the while:
But now teares themselues did smile,
While their eyes by Loue directed,
Interchangeablie reflected.
Page  575
Sighd they had: but now betwixt
Sighs of woe were glad sighs mixt:
VVith armes crost, yet testifying
Restles rest, and liuing dying.
Their eares hungrie of each word
VVhich the deare tongue would afford,
But their tongues restraind from walking,
Till their harts had ended talking.
But when their tongues could not speak,
Loue it selfe did silence breake:
Loue did set his lips asunder
Thus to speake in loue and wonder.
Stella, Souereigne of my ioy,
Faire Triumphres in annoy:
Stella, Starre of heauenly fire,
Stella, loadstarre of desire.
Stella, in whose shining eyes
Are the lights of Cupids skyes,
VVhose beames where they are once darted
Loue there with is straight imparted.
Stella, whose voyce when it speakes,
Senses all asunder breakes:
Stella, whose voyce when it singeth,
Angels to acquaintance bringeth.
Stella, in whose bodie is
Writ the caracters of blis:
VVhose sweete face all beautie passeth,
Saue the minde which it surpasseth.
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Graunt, ô graunt, but speach (alas)
Failes me, fearing on to passe:
Graunt to me, what am I saying?
But no sinne there is in praying.
Graunt (ô Deare) on knees I pray
(Knees on ground he then did stay)
That not I, but since I proue you,
Time and place from me nere moue you.
Neuer season was more fit,
Neuer roome more apt for it:
Smiling aire allowes my reason:
These birds sing; now vse the season.
This small winde which so sweete is,
See how it the leaues doth kis;
Each tree in his best attyring,
Sense of Loue to Loue inspiring.
Loue makes earth the water drinke,
Loue to earth makes water sinke:
And if dumb things be so wittie,
Shall a heauenly Grace want pittie?
There his hands (in their speach) faine
Would haue made tongues language plaine:
But her hands his hands compelling,
Gaue repulse, all grace expelling.
Therewithall, away she went,
Leauing him with passion rent,
VVith what she had done and spoken,
That therewith my song is broken.