Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 48, by PHILIP SIDNEY


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ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 48, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Soul's joy, bend not those morning stars from me
Last Line: A kind of grace is to slay with speed.
Subject(s): Love; Stars


Soul's joy, bend not those morning stars from me,
Where virtue is made strong by beauty's might,
Where love is chasteness, pain doth learn delight,
And humbleness grows one with majesty.
Whatever may ensue, O let me be
Co-partner of the riches of that sight;
Let not mine eyes be hell-driv'n from that light;
O look, O shine, O let me die and see.
For though I oft my self of them bemoan,
That through my heart their beamy darts be gone,
Whose cureless wounds even now most freshly bleed,
Yet since my death wound is already got,
Dear killer, spare not thy sweet cruel shot;
A kind of grace is to slay with speed.




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