Treasure Island

Sir Philip Sidney

(1554 - 1586 / Kent / England)

Astrophel and Stella: XX


Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly!
See there that boy, that murd'ring boy, I say,
Who, like a thief, hid in dark bush doth lie
Till bloody bullet get him wrongful prey.
So tyrant he no fitter place could spy,
Nor so fair level in so secret stay,
As that sweet black which veils the heav'nly eye;
There himself with his shot he close doth lay.
Poor passenger, pass now thereby I did,
And stay'd, pleas'd with the prospect of the place,
While that black hue from me the bad guest hid;
But straight I saw motions of lightning grace
And then descried the glist'ring of his dart:
But ere I could fly thence it pierc'd my heart.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: dark, death, heart, wind, friend

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Astrophel and Stella: XX by Sir Philip Sidney )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. राखी, Shobha Khare
  2. साहस, Shobha Khare
  3. आओ सब मिल कर एक साथ, Shobha Khare
  4. Albert Einstein, gajanan mishra
  5. अब तक रहे देखते सब को, Shobha Khare
  6. जीवन, Shobha Khare
  7. Moon Sonnet, Elaine Clarke
  8. भाग्य, Shobha Khare
  9. First unknown, hasmukh amathalal
  10. Nuakhai, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet John Gay

Friendship, as love, is but a name,
Save in a concentrated flame;
And thus, in friendships, who depend
On more than one, find not one friend.

A hare who, in a civil way,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]