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Poem by Philip Sidney Sonnet 89. Now, That Of Absence Now that of absence the most irksome night, With darkest shade doth overcome my day; Since Stella's eyes, wont to give me my day, Leaving my hemisphere, leave me in night, Each day seems long, and longs for long-stay'd night; The night as tedious, woos th'approach of day; Tir'd with the dusty toils of busy day, Languish'd with horrors of the silent night; Suffering the evils both of the day and night, While no night is more dark than is my day, Nor no day hath less quiet than my night: With such bad misture of my night and day, That living thus in blackest winter night, I feel the flames of hottest summer day. Philip Sidney Philip Sidney's other poems:
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