SIR PHILIP SIDNEY
104 Sleep
COME, Sleep; O Sleep' the certain knot of peace. The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, Th' indifferent judge between the high and low, With shield of proof shield me from out the preasc Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw:
make in me those civil wars to cease;
1 will good tribute pay, if thou do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, A chamber deaf to noise and blind of light, A rosy garland and a weary head, And if these things, as being thine by right, Move not thy heavy grace, thou shah in me, Livelier than elsewhere, Stella's image sec.
105 Splendidis Ion gum valedtco Nugis
VE me, O Love, which rcachcst but to dust, And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things' Grow rich m that which never takcth lust Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be , Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light That doth both shine and give us sight to sec. O take fast hold! let that light be thy guide In this small course which birth draws out to death, And think how evil becometh him to slide Who seckcth Heaven, and comes of heavenly breath. Then farewell, world' thy uttermost I see: Eternal Love, maintain thy life in me!
104 prease] press.
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