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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