Page:Astrophel and other poems (IA astrophelotherpo00swiniala).pdf/23

 Dark as sorrow though night and morrow may lower with presage of clouded fame, How may she that of old bare thee, may Sidney's England, be brought to shame? How should this be, while England is? What need of answer beyond thy name?

From the love that transfigures thy glory, From the light of the dawn of thy death, The life of thy song and thy story Took subtler and fierier breath. And we, though the day and the morrow Set fear and thanksgiving at strife, Hail yet in the star of thy sorrow The sun of thy life.

Shame and fear may beset men here, and bid thanksgiving and pride be dumb: