The Lover

…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

Of these fierce darts, Despair at me doth throw;

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.

 

About Avadoro Worden

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