Astrophil and Stella

Sonnet 42

O eyes, which do the spheres of beauty move; 
Whose beams be joys, whose joys all virtues be, 
Who, while they make love conquer, conquer love; 
The schools where Venus hath learned chastity: 
   O eyes, where humble looks most glorious prove, 
Only loved tyrants, just in cruelty, 
Do not, O do not, from poor me remove: 
Keep still my zenith, ever shine on me; 
   For though I never see them, but straightways 
My life forgets to nourish languished sprites, 
Yet still on me, O eyes, dart down your rays! 
And if from majesty of sacred lights 
   Oppressing mortal sense my death proceed, 
   Wracks triumphs be which love high set doth breed.  
Sir Philip Sidney

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