…from the quills of dead white poets
Sir Phillip Sidney (1554-1586)
‘The Sleepless Lover
Come Sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting place of wits, the balm of woe,
The poor man’s wealth, the prisoners release.
Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low;
With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease
O make in me those civil wars to cease:
I will good tribute pay if thou do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed,
A chamber deaf of noise, and blind of light,
A rosy garland, and a weary head;
And if these things (as being thine in right)
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me,
(Livelier than else) rare Stella’s image see.