Astrophil and Stella
O absent presence! Stella is not here;
False-flatt'ring hope, that with so fair a face
Bare me in hand, that in this orphan place,
Stella, I say my Stella, should appear:
What sayst thou now? where is that dainty cheer
Thou toldst mine eyes should help their famished case?
But thou art gone, now that self-felt disgrace
Doth make me most to wish thy comfort near.
But here I do store of fair ladies meet,
Who may with charm of conversation sweet,
Make in my heavy mould new thoughts to grow.
Sure they prevail as much with me, as he
That bade his friend, but then new maimed to be
Merry with him, and so forget his woe.
Sir Philip Sidney
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