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Passions in PoetryPhilomela
by Sir Philip Sidney

 

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Passions in Poetry Home > All Poems > Classic Poetry > Sir Philip Sidney > To the Sad Moon To the Sad Moon
Sir Philip Sidney
Poetry | Biography
Philomela
by Sir Philip Sidney

The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making,
And, mournfully bewailing,
Her throat in tunes expresseth
What grief her breast oppresseth,
For Tereus' force on her chaste will prevailing.

O Philomela fair, O take some gladness,
That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness:
Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

Alas, she hath no other cause of anguish
But Tereus' love, on her by strong hand wroken,
Wherein she suffering, all her spirits languish,
Full womanlike complains her will was broken.
But I, who, daily craving,
Cannot have to content me,
Have more cause to lament me,
Since wanting is more woe than too much having.

O Philomela fair, O take some gladness,
That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness:
Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

 

Submission Notes: None

Classic Home > Sir Philip Sidney >> To the Sad Moon To the Sad Moon
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