SPRING. Summer is come, for every spray now springs ; HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY. COME, SLEEP, O SLEEP. COME, Sleep, O Sleep, the certain knot of peace, I will good tribute pay, if thou do so. COME, SLEEP, O SLEEP. A rosy garland, and a weary head. Having this day my horse, my hand my lance Both by the judgment of the English eyes, Others, because of both sides I do take SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. WITH how sad steps, O Moon! thou climb'st the skies, How silently, and with how wan a face! What may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries? |