Edmund Spenser (1552?–1599)

[Upon the Death of Sir Philip Sidney]

SHEPHERDS that wont on pipes of oaten reed,

Oft times to plaine your loues concealèd smart;

And with your piteous layes haue learnd to breed

Compassion in a countrey lasses hart.

Hearken ye gentle shepheards to my song,

And place my dolefull plaint your plaints emong.

To you alone I sing this mournfull verse,

The mournfulst verse that euer man heard tell:

To you whose softened hearts it may empierse,

With dolours dart for death of Astrophel.

To you I sing and to none other wight,

For well I wot my rymes bene rudely dight.

Yet as they been, if any nycer wit

Shall hap to heare, or couet them to read:

Thinke he, that such are for such ones most fit,

Made not to please the liuing but the dead.

And if in him found pity euer place,

Let him be moov’d to pity such a case.