That England lost, that Learning lov'd, that every mouth commended, That fame did prayse, that Prince did rayse, that Countrey so defended, Here lyes the man: lyke to the Swan, who knowing she shall die, Doeth tune her voice unto the Spheares, and scornes Mortalitie. Two worthie Earles his uncles were; a Lady was his Mother; A Knight his father; and himselfe a noble Countesse Brother. Belov'd, bewaild; alive, now dead; of all, with Teares for ever; Here lyes Sir Philip Sidneis Corps, whom cruell Death did sever. He liv'd for her, hee dyde for her; for whom he dyde, he lived: O graunt (O God) that wee of her, may never be deprived. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A CERTAIN CRITIC by AMY LOWELL IN MAY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A SMUGGLER'S SONG by RUDYARD KIPLING FOR AN ALLEGORICAL DANCE OF WOMEN (BY ANDREA MANTEGNA) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE POET by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |