XCVII. Dian, that fain would cheer her friend the Night

Sir Philip Sidney (1554–1586)

DIAN, that fain would cheer her friend the NIGHT,

Shows her oft at the full her fairest face:

Bringing with her those starry nymphs, whose chase

From heavenly standing, hits each mortal wight.

But, ah, poor NIGHT! in love with PHŒBUS’ light,

And endlessly despairing of his grace;

Herself (to show no other joy hath place)

Silent and sad in mourning weeds doth dight.

Even so, alas, a lady, DIAN’s peer!

With choice delights and rarest company,

Would fain drive clouds from out my heavy cheer:

But woe is me! though JOY itself were she;

She could not show my blind brain ways of joy;

While I despair my sun’s sight to enjoy.