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
Page  46

Other Sonnets of variable verse.

First Sonnet.

DOubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my brest surchargd with musick lendeth?
To you, to you all song of praise is due,
Onely in you my song begins and endeth.
Who hath the eyes which marrie state with pleasure,
Who keepes the key of Natures chiefest treasure:
To you, to you al song of praise be due,
Onely for you the heauens forget all measure.
VVho hath the lips where wit with fairenes raigneth,
VVho womenkinde at once both decks and staineth:
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely by you Cupid his crowne maintaineth.
Who hath the feet whose steps al sweetnes planteth,
VVho els for whom Fame worthie trumpets wanteth:
To you, to you all song of praise be due,
Onely to you her scepter Venus granteth.
Who hath the brest whose milk doth patience nurish,
VVhose grace is such, that when it chides doth cherish:
To you, to you al song of praise be due,
Onely through you the tree of life doth slourish.
VVho hath the hand which without stroke subdueth
VVho long hid beautie with encrease renueth:
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely at you al enuie hopelesse endeth.
VVho hath the haire which most loose most fast tieth,
VVho makes a man liue then glad when he dieth:
Page  47To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely of you the flattrer neuer lieth.
VVho hath the voyce which soule from senses sunders,
VVhose force but yours the bolt of beautie thunders?
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely with you no miracles are wonders.
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
VVhich now my breast orechargd with musicke lendeth?
To you, to you al song of praise is due,
Onely in you my song begins and endeth.

Second Sonnet.

HAue I caught my heauenly Iuel
Teaching Sleepe most faire to be:
Now wil I teach her, that she
VVhen she wakes is too too cruel.
Since sweete Sleep her eyes hath charmed,
The two onely darts of Loue:
Now will I with that Boy proue
Some play while he is disarmed.
Her tongue waking stil refuseth,
Giuing franklie niggard no:
Now wil I attempt to knowe,
VVhat no her tongue sleeping vseth.
See the hand that waking gardeth,
Sleeping grants a free resort:
Now I wil inuade the fort,
Cowards Loue with losse rewardeth.
Page  485
But (O foole) thinke of the danger
Of her iust and high disdaine,
Now will I (alas) refraine
Loue feares nothing else but anger.
Yet those lippes so sweetly swelling,
Do inuite a stealing kisse;
Now but venture will I this,
VVho will read must first learne spelling.
Oh sweet kisse, but ah shee is waking,
Lowring beautie chastens mee.
Now will I for feare hence flee,
Foole, more Foole for no more taking.

Third Sonnet.

IF Orpheus voyce had force to breathe such musicks Loue
Through pores of senseles trees, as it could make them moue;
If stones good measure daunst the Thebane walls to builde,
To cadence of the tunes which Amphions Lyre did yeeld,
More cause a like effect at least wise bringeth.
O stones, ô trees, learne hearing, Stella singeth,
If Loue might sweeten so a boy of Shepheards brood,
To make a Lyzard dull to taste Loues food:
If Eagle fierce could so in Grecian maide delight,
As her eyes were his light, her death his endlesse night:
Earth gaue that Loue, heauen (I trow) Loue refineth.
O Beasts, ô Birds, looke Loue; for Stella shineth.
The beasts, birds, stones & trees feele this, & feeling loue:
And if the trees, nor stones stirre not the same to proue,
Nor beasts, nor birds doo come vnto this blessed gaze;
Page  49Know that smal Loue is quick, and great Loue doth amaze;
They are amaz'd, but you with reason armed,
O eies O eares of men, how are you charmed?

Fourth Sonnet.

ONely Ioy, now here you are,
Fit to heare and ease my care;
Let my whispering voyce obtaine
Sweete rewards for sharpest paine:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
Night hath closde all in her cloke,
Twinckling starres loue thoughts prouoke,
Danger hence good care doth keepe,
Iealozie himselfe doth sleepe:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
Better place no wit can finde
Cupids knot to loose or binde,
These sweete flowers, our fine bed too,
Vs in their best language wooe:
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.
This smal light the Moone bestoes,
Serues thy beames for to disclose,
So to raise my heart more hie;
Feare not, els none can vs spie:
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
That you heard was but a mouse,
Dumbe Sleepe holdeth all the house,
Page  50Yet a sleepe (me thinkes) they say,
Yong fooles, take time while you may:
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
Niggard time threates if we misse
This large offer of our blisse,
Long stay ere she graunt the same:
Sweet then, while ech thing doth frame
Take me to thee and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
Your faire Mother is a bed,
Candles out, and curtaines spred;
She thinkes you doo letters write:
VVrite, but first let me endite.
Take mee to thee, and thee to mee:
No no no no, my Deare let be.
Sweete, alas why striue you thus?
Concord better fitteth vs;
Leaue to Mars the force of hands,
Your power in your beautie stands.
Take me to thee, and thee to mee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
VVoe to mee, and doo you sweare
Me to hate but I forbeare?
Curst be my destnies all,
That brought mee so high to fall:
Soone with my death Ile please thee.
No no no no, my Deare let bee.
Page  51

The fifth Sonnet.

WHile fauour fed my hope, delight with hope was brought,
Thought waited on delight, & speach did folow thought,
Then drew my tongue and pen records vnto thy glorie;
I thought all words were lost that were not spent of thee,
I thought each place was darke but where thy lights would be,
And all eares worse than deaffe, that hard not out thy storie.
I said thou wert most faire, and so indeed thou art;
I said thou wert most sweete, sweete poyson to my hart;
I said my soule was thine, ô would I then had lied;
I said thy eyes were starres, thy breasts the milken way,
Thy fingers Cupids shafts, thy voyce the Angels lay:
And all is said so well, that no man it denied.
But now that hope is lost, vnkindnes kils delight,
Yet thought and speach do liue, thought metamorphisde quite,
For rage now rules the reynes, which guided were by pleasure,
I thinke now of thy faults, who late wrote of thy praise,
That speech falls now to blame which did thy honour raise:
The same key open can, which can locke vp a treasure.
Then thou whom partiall heauens conspir'd in one to frame
The proofe of beauties worke, the inheritance of fame,
The mansion state of blisse, and iust excuse of louers:
See now those feathers pluckt wherewith thou flewst most hie,
See what cloudes of reproach shall darke thy honours skie;
Whome fault once casteth downe, hardly high state recouers.
And ô my Muse, though oft you luld her in your lap,
And then a heauenly Childe gaue her Ambrosian pap,
And to that braine of hers your highest gifts infused;
Since she disdaining me, doth you in me disdaine,
Page  52Suffer not her to laugh, and both we suffer paine:
Princes in subiects wrongs must deeme themselues abused.
Your client poore, my selfe, shall Stella handle so,
Reuenge, reuenge, my Muse desiance trumpet blowe,
Threate, threat, what may be done; yet do no more but threaten:
Ah, my sute granted is, I feele my breast doth swell;
Now Childe, a lesson new you shall begin to spell,
Sweet babes must babies haue, but shrewd girles must be beaten.
Thinke now no more to heare of warme fine shining snow,
Nor blushing Lillyes, nor pearles Rubie hidden row,
Nor of that golden sea, whose waues in curles are broken:
But of thy soule fraught with such vngratefulnesse,
As where thou soone mightst help, most there thou dost oppresse
Vngrateful who is cald, the worst of ills is spoken.
Yet worse than worse, I say thou art a Thiefe. A thiefe?
Now God forbid: a thiefe, and of worst thieues a thiefe;
Thieues steale for need, & steale for goods, which pain recouers
But thou, rich in all ioyes, dost rob my goods from mee,
Which cannot be restorde by time nor industrie:
Of foes the spoyle is euill, farre more of constant louers.
Yet gentle English thieues doo rob, and will not slay;
Thou English murdring thiefe, wilt haue hearts for thy pray.
The name of murdrer now on thy faire forhead sitteth,
And euen while I do speake my death wounds bleeding bee,
Which I protest proceed from onely cruell thee,
Who may and wil not saue, murther in trueth committeth.
But murthers priuate fault seemes but a toy to thee.
I lay then to thy charge vniustice Tirannie,
If rule by force without all claime, a Tyrant sheweth;
For thou art my hearts Lord, who am not borne thy slaue,
And which is worse makes me most guiltles torments haue,
Page  53A rightfull Prince by vnrightfull deeds a Tyrant groweth.
Loe you grow proud with this, for Tyrants makes folk bow:
Of foule rebellion then I do appeach thee now,
Rebels by Natures lawes rebel by way of reason;
Thou sweetest subiect wert borne in the Realme of Loue,
And yet against thy Prince, thy force dost daily proue,
No vertue merits praise, once toucht with blot of Treason.
But valiant Rebels oft in fooles mouths purchase fame,
I now then staine thy white with blackest blot of shame,
Both Rebel to the Sonne, and vagrant from the Mother;
For wearing Venus badge, in euery part of thee,
Vnto Dianaes traine thou runnaway didst flie:
Who faileth one is false, though trustie to another.
VVhat is not this enough, nay farre worse commeth here:
A Witch I say thou art, though thou so faire appeare.
For I protest, mine eyes neuer thy sight enioyeth,
But Im mee am chang'd, I am aliue and dead.
My feete are turn'd to rootes, my heart becommeth lead,
No witchcraft is so ill, as which mans minde destroyeth,
Yet Witches may repent, thou art farre worse than they:
Alas, that I am forst such euill of thee to say:
I say thou art a Diuel though cloathd in Angels shining:
For thy face tempts my soule to leaue the heauens for thee,
And thy words of refuse doo powre euen hell on mee:
Who tempts, and tempted plagues are Diuels in true desining.
You then vngrateful theefe, you murthering Tyrant you,
You Rebel runnaway to Lord and Lady vntrue,
You witch, you Diuel (alas) you still of me beloued,
You see what I can say; mend yet your froward minde,
And such skill in my Muse you reconcil'd shall finde,
That by these cruell words your praises shalbe proued.
Page  54

The sixth Sonnet.

O You that heare this voice,
O you that see this face,
Say whether of the choice,
Deserues the better place,
Feare not to iudge this bate,
For it is voide of hate.
This side doth Beautie take,
For that doth Musicke speake,
Fit Orators to make,
The strongest iudgements weake,
The barre to plead the right,
Is onely true delight.
Thus doth the voice and face,
The gentle Lawiers wage,
Like louing brothers case,
For Fathers heritage,
That each while each contends,
It selfe to other lends.
For Beautie beautifies
With heauenly view and grace,
The heauenly harmonies;
And in this faultles face
The perfect beauties bee,
A perfect harmonie.
Musicke more lustie swels
In speeches noblie placed,
Beautie as farre excels
In actions aptly graced.
A friend each partie drawes,
To countenance his cause.
Page  556
Loue more affected seemes
To Beauties louely light,
And Wonder more esteemes
Of Musicks wondrous might;
But both to both so bent,
As both in both are spent.
Musicke doth witnes call
The eare, his truth to trie:
Beauty brings to the hall
The iudgement of the eie:
Both in their obiects such,
As no exceptions tuch.
The common Sense which might
Be arbitrer of this,
To be forsooth vpright,
To both sides partiall is:
He laies on this chiefe praise,
Chiefe praise on that he laies.
Then reason Princesse hie,
Whose throne is in the minde;
Which Musicke can in skie,
And hidden Beauties finde:
Say, whether thou wilt crowne
With limitlesse renowne.

The seuenth Sonnet.

WHose senses in so euill comfort their step dame Nature laies,
That rauishing delight in them most sweete tunes doth not raise,
Or if they doe delight therein yet are so cloid with wit,
As with sententious lips to set a little vaine on it:
O let them hear these sacred tunes, & learn in wonders scholes,
To be (in things past boūds of wit) fooles, if they be not fooles.
Page  56
VVho haue so leaden eyes, as not to see sweete Beauties showe:
Or seeing, haue so wooden wits as not that worth to knowe;
Or knowing, haue so muddie mindes, as not to be in loue;
Or louing, haue so frothie hearts, as easie thence to moue:
O, let them see these heauenly beames, and in faire letters reed
A lesson, fit both sight and skill, Loue & firme Loue to breed.
Hear then, but then with wonder hear; see, but admiring see;
No mortal gifts, no earthly frutes now here discerned bee:
See, doo you see this face: a face, nay image of the skyes,
Of which, the two life-giuing lights are figured in her eyes:
Heare you this soule-inuading voyce, & count it but a voyce,
The verie essence of their tunes, when Angels doo reoyce.

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.
Page  5812
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.
Page  59

The ninth Sonnet.

GOe my Flocke, goe get you hence,
Seeke a better place of feeding,
VVhere you may haue some defence
From the stormes in my breast bleeding,
And showers from mine eyes porceeding.
Leaue a wretch in whom all woe,
Can abide to keepe no measure;
Merrie Flocke, such one forgoe
Vnto whom mirth is displeasure,
Onely rich in measures treasure.
Yet alas before you goe,
Heare your wofull Masters storie,
VVhich to stones I else would showe;
Sorrow onely then hath glorie,
VVhen tis excellently sorie.
Stella, fairest Shepheardesse,
Fairest, but yet cruelst euer;
Stella, whom the heauens still blesse,
Though against me she perseuer,
Though I blisse inherit neuer.
Stella hath refused mee,
Stella, who more loue hath proued
In this caitiffe hart to bee,
Than can in good to vs be moued
Towards Lambkins best beloued,
Stella hath refused mee
Astrophel that so well serued.
Page  60In this pleasant Spring (Muse) see,
While in pride flowers be preserued,
Himselfe onely, winter starued.
VVhy (alas) then doth she sweare
That she loueth me so deerly;
Seeing me so long to beare
Coales of loue that burne so cleerly:
And yet leaue me hopelesse meerly.
Is that loue? forsooth I trow,
If I saw my good dogg grieued,
And a helpe for him did know,
My loue should not be beleeued,
But he were by me releeued.
No, she hates me (welaway)
Faining loue, somewhat to please me;
Knowing, if she should display
All her hate, death soone would seaze me,
And of hideous torments ease me.
Then my deare Flocke now adieu:
But alas, if in your straying
Heauenly Stella meete with you,
Tell her in your piteous blaying
Her poore Slaues iust decaying.

The tenth Sonnet.

O Deere Life, when shall it bee,
That mine eyes thine eyes shall see,
And in them thy minde discouer,
VVhether absence haue had force
Thy remembrance to diuorce
From the image of thy Louer?
Page  612
O if I my selfe finde not
By thine absence oft forgot,
Nor debard from Beauties treasure,
Let no tongue aspire to tell
In what high ioyes I shall dwell,
Onely thought aimes at the pleasure.
Thought therefore will I send thee
To take vp the place for mee,
Long I will not after tarrie:
There vnseene, thou maist be bold
Those faire wonders to behold,
VVhich in them my hopes doo carrie.
Thought, see thou no place forbeare,
Enter brauely euerie where,
Seaze on all to her belonging:
But if thou wouldst garded bee,
Fearing her beames, take with thee
Strength of liking, rage of longing.
O my Thoughts, my Thoughts sure ease,
Your delights my woes encrease,
My life fleetes with too much thinking:
Thinke no more, but die in mee,
Till thou shalt receiued bee,
At her lips my Nectar drinking.