Sir Philip Sidney (November 30 1554 – October 17 1586) was an English courtier, soldier, poet and romancer. He was a friend and patron of Edmund Spenser, whose poetry he deeply influenced. During his own lifetime he attracted extraordinary admiration throughout Europe as the model of a Christian knight and chivalrous gentleman.
Born: November 30th, 1554
Died: October 17th, 1586
Categories: English poets, 16th century deaths
Quotes: 25 sourced quotes total
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....But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay, Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows, And others' feet still seemed but strangers in my way. Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, '''Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: "Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart and write."
Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge.
Sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge.
Many-headed multitude.
They are never alone that are accompanied with noble thoughts.
Thy necessity is yet greater than mine
My true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange, one for the other given.
That sweet enemy, France.
My dear, my better half
I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet.
Have I caught my heav'nly jewel.
And thou my minde aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust.
With a tale forsooth he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner.
There have been many most excellent poets that never versified, and now swarm many versifiers that need never answer to the name of poets.
Hard-hearted minds relent and rigor's tears abound, And envy strangely rues his end, in whom no fault was found. Knowledge her light hath lost, valor hath slain her knight, Sidney is dead, dead is my friend, dead is the world's delight.
Open suspecting others comes of secret condemning themselves.
High-erected thoughts seated in the heart of courtesy.
Poetry, a speaking picture... to teach and delight
A fair woman shall not only command without authority but persuade without speaking.
Certainly, I must confess my own barbarousness, I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet.
Who shoots at the mid-day sun, though he be sure he shall never hit the mark, yet as sure he is he shall shoot higher than who aims but at a bush.
Come sleep, O sleep, the certain knot of peace, The baiting place of wit, the balm of woe, The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release, The indifferent judge between the high and low.
In the sweetly constituted mind of Sir Philip Sidney, it seems as if no ugly thought or unhandsome meditation could find a harbour. He turned all that he touched into images of honour and virtue.
Stella, think not that I by verse seek fame, Who seek, who hope, who love, who live but thee; Thine eyes my pride, thy lips mine history: If thou praise not, all other praise is shame.
The historian…loaden with old mouse-eaten records, authorizing himself (for the most part) upon other histories, whose greatest authorities are built upon the notable foundation of hearsay; having much ado to accord differing writers and to pick truth out of partiality; better acquainted with a thousand years ago than with the present age, and yet better knowing how this world goeth than how his own wit runneth; curious for antiquities and inquisitive of novelties; a wonder to young folks and a tyrant in table talk, denieth, in a great chafe, that any man for teaching of virtue, and virtuous actions is comparable to him.