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The Twenty-Third Psalm

Sir Philip Sidney
Dominus regit me

The Lord the Lord my shepherd is,
   And so can never I
      Taste misery.
He rests me in green pasture His.
   By waters still and sweet
      He guides my feet.

He me revives, leads me the way
   Which righteousness doth take,
      For His name's sake.
Yea though I should through valleys stray
   Of death's dark shade I will
      No whit fear ill.

For Thou dear Lord Thou me beset'st,
   Thy rod and Thy staff be
      To comfort me.
Before me Thou a table set'st,
   Ev'n when foe's envious eye
      Doth it espy.

With oil Thou dost anoint my head,
   And so my cup dost fill
      That it doth spill.
Thus thus shall all my days be fed,
   This mercy is so sure
      It shall endure,
And long yea long abide I shall,
   There where the Lord of all
      Doth hold His hall.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Sir Philip Sidney

by this poet

poem
The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth 
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking, 
While late bare earth, proud of new clothing, springeth, 
Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making, 
And mournfully bewailing, 
Her throat in tunes expresseth 
What grief her breast oppresseth 
For Tereus' force on her
poem

My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one to the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven:
   My true-love hath my heart, and I have his.

His heart in me keeps him and me in one,
My heart in him his