Seccombe and Arber, comps. Elizabethan Sonnets. 1904.
Sonnets and Poetical TranslationsXXVII. When, to my deadly pleasure
Sir Philip Sidney (15541586)W
When, to my lively torment,
Lady! mine eyes remained
Joined, alas, to your beams.
Beauty tied to virtue,
Reason abash’d retired;
Gladly my senses yielded.
Thus to betray my heart’s fort;
Left me devoid of all life.
Where by the death of all deaths:
Find to what harm they hastened.
Burned by the light he best liked,
When with a fire he first met.
Lady! you have reservèd!
Lady, the life of all love!
And I be dead, who want sense;
Yet do we both live in you!
Unto the flower that aye turns,
As you, alas, my sun bends.
Thus do I die to live thus,
Changed to a change, I change not.
Thus be my senses on you!
Thus what I think is of you!
Thus what I seek is in you!
All what I am, it is you!