ASTROPHEL.
5
Ay, but now it is death, not thou, whom time has
conquered as years pass on.
Ay, not yet may the land forget that bore and loved thee
and praised and wept,
Sidney, lord of the stainless sword, the name of names
that her heart's love kept
Fast as thine did her own, a sign to light thy life till it
sank and slept.
Bright as then for the souls of men thy brave Arcadia
resounds and shines,
Lit with love that beholds above all joys and sorrows
the steadfast signs,
Faith, a splendour that hope makes tender, and truth,
whose presage the soul divines.
All the glory that girds the story of all thy life as with
sunlight round,
