Sonnet XX: Fly, Fly, My Friends (Sir Philip Sidney Poems)
Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound; fly! See there that boy, that murthering boy I say, Who ...
Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound; fly! See there that boy, that murthering boy I say, Who ...
The heavenly frame sets forth the fame Of him that only thunders; The firmament, so strangely bent, Shows his handworking ...
Queen Virtue's court, which some call Stella's face, Prepar'd by Nature's choicest furniture, Hath his front built of alabaster pure; ...
Love, born in Greece, of late fled from his native place, Forc'd by a tedious proof, that Turkish harden'd heart ...
In highest way of heav'n the Sun did ride, Progressing then from fair twins' golden place: Having no scarf of ...
The curious wits seeing dull pensiveness Bewray itself in my long settled eyes, Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise, ...
Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly! See there that boy, that murd'ring boy, I say, Who, ...
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