Astrophel and Stella - Sonnet XCVII
Dian, that faine would cheare her friend the Night, Shewes her oft, at the full, her fairest face, Bringing with her those starry Nymphs, whose chace From heau'nly standing hits each mortall wight. But ah, poore Night, in loue with Phoebus light, And endlesly dispairing of his grace, Her selfe, to shewe no other ioy hath place; Sylent and sad, in mourning weedes doth dight. Euen so (alas) a lady, Dians peere, With choise delights and rarest company Would faine driue cloudes from out my heauy cheere; But, wo is me, though Ioy her selfe were she, Shee could not shew my blind braine waies of ioy, While I despaire my sunnes sight to enioy.
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"Dian, that faine would cheare her friend the Night,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Philip Sidney (Sir) delivers a powerful performance in "Astrophel and Stella - Sonnet XCVII"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...