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Philip Sidney - Sonnet 99: When Far-Spent Night
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When far-spent night persuades each mortal eye, 
To whom nor art nor nature granted light, 
To lay his then mark-wanting shafts of sight, 
Clos`d with their quivers, in sleep`s armory; 

With windows ope then most my mind doth lie, 
Viewing the shape of darkness and delight, 
Takes in that sad hue which the inward night 
Of his maz`d powers keeps perfect harmony; 

But when birds charm, and that sweet air which is 
Morn`s messenger, with rose enamel`d skies, 
Calls each wight to salute the flower of bliss, 

In tomb of lids then buried are mine eyes, 
Forc`d by their lord, who is asham`d to find 
Such light in sense, with such a darken`d mind.
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