Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/175

 SIR PHILIP SIDNEY

/02 The Highway

" IGHWAY, since you my chief Parnassus be,

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��And that my Muse, to some ears not unsweet, Tempers her words to trampling horses' feet More oft than to a chamber-melody, Now blessed you bear onward blessed me To her, where I my heart, safe-left, shall meet; My Muse and I must you of duty greet With thanks and wishes, wishing thankfully; Be you still fair, honour'd by public heed; By no encroachment wrong'd, nor time forgot; Nor blamed for blood, nor shamed for sinful deed, And that you know I envy you no lot

Of highest wish, I wish you so much bliss, Hundreds of years you Stella's feet may kiss'

705 His Lady's Cruelty

WITH how sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies' How silently, and with how wan a face' What' may it be that even in heavenly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries ? Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou fcel'st a lover's case: I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. Then, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me, Is constant love decm'd there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be? Do they above love to be loved, and yet

Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?

Do they call 'virtue' there ungratefulness?

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