Sir Philip Sidney. "Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly." Sonnet 20 from "Astrophil and Stella."

Sir Philip Sidney.

Astrophel and Stella

Sonnet XX

Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly;
    See there that boy, that murth'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 stayed, pleased 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 pierced my heart.

Source:
Poetry of the English Renaissance 1509-1660.
J. William Hebel and Hoyt H. Hudson, Eds.
New York: F. S. Crofts & Co., 1941. 109.

to Works of Sir Philip Sidney