Phillis: honoured vvith pastorall sonnets, elegies, and amorous delights VVhere-vnto is annexed, the tragicall complaynt of Elstred.

PHILLIS : Honoured with Pastorall Sonnets , Elegies , and amorous delights . Where-vnto is annexed , the tragicall complaynt of Elstred .

Iam Phoebus disiungit equos , iam Cinthia iungit .

At London , Printed for Iohn Busbie , and are to be sold at his shoppe , at the West-doore of Paules . 1593.

TO THE RIGHT worthy and noble Lady , the Countesse of Shrewesbury

I Haue aduentured ( most noble Lady with the wrastlers of Olympia , tho not to win , yet to worke for the Garland ; the iudgement of my industry relyeth on your Ladishippe , who haue both authoritie to conuict , and knowledge to commend . I haue chosen you Madam among many , to be the Soueraigne and shee Mecaenas of my toyle , because I am assured , that the great report of your learning and vertue , ( wherewith as yet it hath not pleased you to dignifie the world ) must euen now be exemplified in mee , who dare promise as much in affection , as any other can performe in perfection . May it please you to looke and like of homlie Phillis in her Country caroling , & to countenance her poore and affectionate Sheepheard , who promiseth vnder the onely encouragement of so noble a Lady , to employ all his best deseignes , life , and studies , to your good lyking .

Your Ladiships most humble to commaund Tho: Lodge .

Induction . I That obscur'd haue fled the Sceane of Fame , Intitling my conceits to nought but care , I that haue liu'd a Phoenix in loues flame , And felt that death I neuer would declare , Now mount the Theater of this our age , To plead my faith and Cupids cursed rage . Oh you high sp'rited Paragons of witte , That flye to fame beyond our earthly pitch , Whose sence is sound , whose words are feat and fitte , Able to make the coyest eare to itch : Shroud with your mighty wings that mount so well , These little loues , new crept from out the shell . And thou the true Octauia of our time , Vnder whose worth , beauty was neuer matched , The Genius of my Muse and ragged rime , Smile on these little loues but lately hatched , Who from the wrastling waues haue made retreate , To pleade for life before thy iudgement seate . And tho the fore-bred brothers they haue had , ( Who in theyr Swan-like songes Amint●s wept ) For all their sweet-thought sighes had fortune bad , And twice obscur'd in Cinthias circle slept : Yet these ( I hope ) vnder your kind aspect , ( Most worthy Lady ) shall escape neglect . And if these Infants of mine artlesse braine , ( Not by theyr worth , but by thy worthinesse ) A meane good liking of the learned gaine , My Muse enfranchis'd from forgetfulnesse : Shall hatch such breede in honour of thy name , As moderne Poets shall admire the same . As moderne Poets shall admire the same , I meane not you ( you neuer matched men ) Who brought the Chaos of our tongue in frame , Through these Herculean labours of your pen : I meane the meane , I meane no men diuine , But such whose feathers are but waxt like mine . Goe weeping Truce-men in your sighing weedes , Vnder a great Mecaenas I haue past you : If so you come where learned Colin feedes His louely flocke , packe thence and quickly haste you ; You are but mistes before so bright a sunne , Who hath the Palme for deepe inuention wunne . Kisse Delias hand for her sweet Prophets sake , Whose not affected but well couched teares : Haue power , haue worth , a Marble minde to shake ; Whose fame , no Iron-age or time out weares . Then lay you downe in Phillis lap and sleepe , Vntill she weeping read , and reading weepe . I that obscurd haue fled the scheane of fame , Intitling my conceites to nought but care : I that haue liu'd a Phoenix in loues flame , And felt that death I neuer would declare : Now mount the Theater of this our age , To plead my faith and Cupids cursed rage . Oh you high spirited paragons of witte , That flye to fame beyond our earthly pitch : Whose sence is sound , whose wordes are feate and fitte , Able to make the coyest eare to itch : Shroud with your mighty wings that mount so well , These little loues new crept from out the shell . And thou the' Ascrean Poet of our time , Vnder whose stile conceit was neuer matched : The Genius of my muse and ragged rime , Smile on these little loues but latlie hatched : Who from the wrastling waues haue made retreate , To pleade for life before thy Iudgement seate . And tho the fore-bred brothers they haue had , ( Who in their Swan-like songes Amintas wept ) For all their sweet-thought sighes had fortune bad , And twise obscurd in Cinthias circle slept : Yet these I hope vnder your kinde aspect , ( Thow flower of knight-hood ) shall escape neglect . And if these infants of mine artlesse braine , ( Not by their worth but by thy worthynes : ) A meane good liking of the learned gaine , My muse enfranchisd from forgetfulnes : Shall hatch such breede in honour of thy name , As moderne Poets shall admire the same . As moderne Poets shall admire the same , I meane not you ( you neuer matched men , ) Who brought the Chaos of our toung in frame , Through these herculean labours of your pen : I meane the meane , I meane no men deuine , But such whose feathers are but waxt like mine . Goe weeping truce-men in your sighing weedes , Vnder a great Mecenas I haue past you : If so you come where learned Colin feedes , His lowely flocke , pack thence and quicklie hast you , You are but mistes before so bright a sunne , Who hath the palme for deepe inuention wunne . Kisse Delias hand for hir sweet Prophets sake , Whose not affected but well couched teares : Haue power , haue worth a marble minde to shake , Whose fame no yron-age or time out weares : Then lay you downe in Phillis lappe and sleepe , Vntill she weeping read and reading weepe .

Phillis . Sonnet I. Oh pleasing thoughts , apprentises of loue , Fore-runners of desire , sweet Methridates The poison of my sorrowes to remoue , With whom my hopes and fearefull oft debates . Inritch your selues and me by your selfe riches , ( Which are the thoughts you spend on heauen bred beauty , ) Rowse you my muse beyond our Poets pitches , And working wonders yet say all is duty . Vse you no Eglets eyes , nor Phenix feathers , To tower the heauen from whence heauens wonder sallies : For why your sonne singes sweetly to hir wethers : Making a springe of winter in the vallies . Show to the world tho poore and scant my skill is , How sweet thoughts bee , that are but thought on Phillis . Sonnet II. You sacred Sea-nimphes pleasantly disporting , Amidst this watrie world , where now I saile : IF euerloue , or louers sad reporting , Had power sweet teares from your faire eyes to hayle : And you more gentle-hearted then the rest , Vnder the Northern Noon-stede sweetly streaming : Lend those moyst riches of your christall crest , To quench the flames from my hearts Aetna steaming . And thou kinde Ariton in thy trompet relish , The ruthfull accents of my discontent : That midst this treauell desolate and hellish , Some gentle wind e that listens my lament . May prattle in the north in Phillis eares , Where Phillis wants Damon consumes in teares . Sonnet III. In fancies world an Atlas haue I beene , Where yet the Chaos of my ceaslesse care : Is by hir eies vnpitied and vnseene , In whom all giftes but pity planted are . For mercie tho still cries my moane-clad muse , And euery paper that she sendes to beautie : In tract of sable teares bringes wofull newes , Of my true heartkinde thoughts and loyall duetie . But ah the stringes of hir hard heart are strained , Beyond the harmonie of my desires : And tho the happie heauens themselues haue pained , To tame hir heart whose will so farre aspires , Yet she who claimes the title of worldes wonder , Thinkes all desartes to bace to bring hir vnder . Sonnet IIII. Long hath my sufferance labored to inforce , One pearle of pittie from hir prettie eyes , Whilest I with restlesse riuers of remorse , Haue bathde the bankes where my faire Phillis lies . The moning lines which weeping I haue written , And writing red vnto my ruthfull sheepe , And reading sent with teares that neuer fitten , To my loues Queene , that hath my heart in keepe : Haue made my Lambkins , lay them downe and sigh : But Phillis sittes , and reades , and cals them trifles : Oh heauens why clime not happie lines so high , To rent that ruthlesse heart , that all hearts rifles ? None wrightes with truer faith , or greater loue , Yet out alas I haue no power to moue . Sonnet V. Ah pale and dying infant of the springe , How rightly now do I resemble thee : That selfe same hand that thee from stalke did wringe , Hath rent my breast and robd my heart from mee . Yet shalt thou liue , for why thy natiue vigor , Shall thriue by wofull dew-droppes of my dollour : And from the woundes I beare through fancies rigor , My streaming blood shall yeeld thee crimson colour . The rauisht sighes ( that ceaslesse take their issue , From out the furnesse of my heart inflamed : ) To yeeld you lasting springs shall neuer misse you , So by my plaints , and paines , you shall be famed Let my hearts heat , and colde , thy crimson norish , And by my sorrowes let thy beautie florish . Sonnet VI. It is not death which wretched men call dying , But that is very death which I endure : When my coy looking Nimph ( hir grace enuying , ) By fatall frownes my domage doth procure . It is not life which we for life approue , But that is life when on hir woul-soft pappes , I seale sweet kisses , which do batten loue : And doubling them do treble my good happes . T is neither loue the sonne , nor loue the mother , Which louers praise and pray to ; but that loue is : Which she in eye and I in heart do smother , Then muse not tho I glory in my misse . Since she who holdes my heart , and me in durance , Hath life , death , loue and all in hir procureance . Sonnet VII . How languisheth the Primrose of loues garden ? How trill hir teares th' Elixar of my sences : Ambitious sicknes , what doth thee so harden , Oh spare and plague thou me for hir offences . Ah Roses , loues faire Roses do not languish , Blush through the milk-white vaile that holdes you couered : If heate or colde may mitigate your anguish , He burne , He frize , but you shall be recouered . Good God would beautie marke now she is crased , How but one shower of sicknesse makes hir tender : Hir Iudgmentes then to marke my woes amazed , To mercy should opinions for t surrender : And I ( oh would , I might , or would she ment it , ) Should herrie loue , who now in hart lament it . Sonnet VIII No starres hir eyes to cleere the wandering night , But shining sunnes of true diuinitye : That make the soule conceiue hir perfect light : No wanton beauties of humanitie Hir prettie browes , but beames that cleare the sight Of him that seekes the true Philosophie : No Corrall is hir lippe , no rose hir faire , But euen that crimson that adornes the Sunne No Nimph is she , but mistresse of the ayre , By whom my glories are but newe begunne , But when I touch and tast as others do , I then shall wright and you shall wonder to . Sonnet IX . The dewie-Roseate morne had with hir haires , In sundrie sorts the Indian Clime adornd : And now hir eies apparrailed in teares , The losse of louely Memnon long had moornd . When as she spide the Nimph whom I admire . Kembinge hir locks , of which the yelow golde , Made blush the beauties of hir curled wire , Which heauen it selfe with wonder might beholde . Then redd with shame , hir reuerend locks she rent , And weeping hid the beauty of hir face , The flower of fancie wrought such discontent : The sighes which midst the aire she breathd a space , A three daies stormie tempest did maintaine , Hir shame a fire , hir eies a swelling raine . Sonnet X. The rumor runnes that heere in I sis swimme , Such stately Swannes so confident in dying ; That when they feele them selues neere Lethes brimme , They sing their fatall dirge when death is nighing . And I like these that , feele my woundes are mortall , Contented dye for hir whom I adore : And in my ioyfull himnes do still exhort all , To die for such a Saint or loue no more . Not that my torments , or hir tiranie . Inforce me to enioyne so hard a taske , But for I know , and yeeld no reason why , But will them trie that haue desire to aske . As loue hath wreathes his pretty eies to feele , So louers must keepe secret what they feele Sonnet XI . My fraile and earthly barke , by reasons guide , ( Which holdes the helme , whilst wil doth weilde the saile : ) By my desires ( the windes of bad betide , ) Hath saild these wordly Seaes with small auaile . Vaine obiectes serue , for dreadfull Rockes to quaile , My brittle boate from hauen of life that flies To haunt the Sea of mundane miseries : My sowle that drawes Impressions from aboue , And viewes my course , and sees the windes aspire , Bids reason watch to scape the shoales of loue : But lawles will enflamd with endlesse ire Doth steerem poope whilest reason doth retire . The streames increase loues waues my barcke do fill , Thus are they wrackt that guide their course by will . Sonnet XII . Ah trees why fall your leaues so fast ? Ah Rocks where are your robes of mosse ? Ah flockes , why stand you all agast ? Trees , rocks , and flocks , what are you pensiue for my losse ? The birdes me thinkes , tune nought but moane , The windes breath nought but bitter plaint , The beasts forsake their dennes to groane , Birdes , windes , and beastes , what doth my losse your powers attaint ? Floodes weepe their springes aboue their boundes , And Eccho wailes to see my woe , The roabe of ruth doth cloath the groundes : Floodes , Eccho , grōudes , why do you al these teares bestow ? The trees , the rockes , and flockes replie , The birdes , the windes , the beastes report , Floodes , Eccho , groundes , for sorrow crie , We grieue suice Phillis nill kinde Damons loue consort . Sonnet XIII . Loue guides the roses of thy lippes , And flies about them like a bee : If I approch he forward skippes , And if I kisse he stingeth me . Loue in thine eyes doth build his bower , And sleepes within their prettie shine : And if I looke the boy will lower , And from their orbes shootes shaftes deuine . Loue workes thy heart within his fire , And in my teares doth firme the same : And if I tempt it will retire , And of my plaintes doth make a game . Loue let me cull hir choycest flowers , And pittie me , and calme hir eye , Make soft hir heart , dissolue hir lowers , Then will I praise thy dietie . But if thou do not loue , I le trulye serue hir , In spight of thee , and by firme faith deserue hir . Sonnet XIIII . I wroat in Mirrhaes barcke , and as I wroate , Poore Mirrha wept because I wroat forsaken : T' was of thy pride I soong in weeping noate , When as hir leaues great moane for pittie maken . The falling fountaines from the mountaines falling , Cride out ah-las , so faire and bee so cruel ? And Babling Echo neuer ceased callinge , Phillis disdaine is fitte for none but truthlesse . The rising pines wherein I had engraued , Thy memorie consulting with the winde : Are trucemen to thy heart , and thoughts depraued , And say thy kind should not bee so vnkinde . But ( out ah-las ) so fell is Phillis pheerlesse , That she hath made hir Damon welnie tearlesse . Sonnet XV. My Phillis hath the morning sunne , At fust to looke vppon hir . And Phillis hath morne-waking birdes , Hir risinges for to honour . My Phillis hath prime-feathered flowers , That smile when she treades on them , And Phillis hath a gallant flocke , That leapes since she doth owne them . But Phillis hath so hard a heart , Ah-las that she should haue it . As yeeldes no mercie to desart , Nor grace to those that craue it : Sweet sunne when thou lookest on , Pray hir regarde my moane . Sweet birdes when you sing to hir , To yeeld some pittie wooe hir . Sweet flowers when as she treades on , Tell hir . hir beautie deades one : And if in life hir loue , she will agree me , Pray hir before I die , she will come see me . Sonnet XVI . I part but how ? from ioy , from hope , from life , I leaue but whom ? loues pride , wits pompe , harts blisse , I pine for what ? for griefe , for thought , for strife : I faint and why ? because I see my misse , Oh ceaslesse paines that neuer may be toulde , You make me weepe as I to water would . Ah wearie hopes in deepe obliuious streames , Goe seeke your graues , since yon haue lost your groundes , Ah pensiue heart seeke out hir radiant gleames , For why thy blisse is shut within those boundes ? Ah traiterous eies to feeble in for sight , Growe dimme with woe , that now must want your light . I part from blisse to dwell with ceaslesse moane , I part from life , since I from beauty part , I part from peace , to pine in care alone , I part from ease to dye with dreadfull smart . I part ( oh death ; ) for why this world containes , More care , and woe then with dispaire remaines , Oh loath depart wherein such sorrowes dwell , As all conceites are s●ant the same to tell . Sonnet XVII . Ah fleeting weale , ah slie deluding sleepe , That in one moment giuest me ioye and paine : How doe my hopes dissolue to teares in vaine ? As wount the Snowes , fore angrie sunne to weepe ? , Ah noysome life that hath no weale in keepe My forward griefe hath forme and working might My pleasures like the shaddowes take their flight : My pathe to blisse is tedious long and steepe . Twise happie thou Endemion that embracest , The liue-long night thy loue within thine armes : Where thou fond dreame my longed weale defacest Whitest fleeting and vncertaine shaddes thou placest Before my eies with false deluding charmes . Ah instant sweetes which do my heart reuiue , How should I ioy if you were true aliue ; Sonnet XVIII . As where two raging venomes are vnited , ( Which of them selues disseuered life would seuer ; ) The sickly wretch of sicknesse is acquited , Which else should die , or pine in torments euer . So fire , and frost , that holde my heart in seasure , Restore those ruines which themselues haue wrought , Where if a part they both had had their pleasure , The earth long since , hir fatall claime had cought . Thus two vnited deathes , keepe me from dying , I burne in Ice , and quake amidst the fire : No hope midest these exteames or fauour spyinge , Thus loue makes me a Martir in his yre . So that both colde and heate do rather feed , My ceaslesse paines , then any comfort breede . Sonnet XIX . Thou tiranizing Monarcke that dost tire , My loue-sicke heart through those assaulting eyes , That are the lampes which lighten my desire , If nought but death furie may suffise : Not for my peace , but for thy pleasure bee it , That Phillis , wrathfull Phillis that repines me , All grace but death , may daine to come and see it , And seeing greeue , at that that which shee assignes me . This onely boone for all my mortall bane , I craue and crie for , at thy mercye seate ; That when hir wrath a faithfull heart hath slaine , And soule is fled , and body rest of heate : She might perceiue how much she might command , That had my life , and death , within hir hand . Sonnet XX. Some praise the lookes , and others praise the lockes , Of their faire Queenes , in loue with curious wordes : Some laud the breast where loue his treasure locks , All like the eie that life and loue affordes . But none of these fraile beauties and vnstable Shall make my pen ryot in pompous stile : More greater giftes shall my graue muse enable , Whereat seuerer browes shall neuer smile . I praise hir honny-sweeter eloquence , Which from the fountaine of true wisdome floweth : Hir modest meane that matcheth exelence , Hir matchlesse faith which from hir ver tue groweth : And could my stile hir happie vertues equale , Time had no power hir glories to enthrale .

Egloga Prima Demades Damon . Demades . NOw sourge of winters wracke is welnie spent , And sunne ginnes looke more longer on our clime , And earth no more to sorrow doth consent , Why beene thy lookes forlorne that viewe the prime ? Vnneth thy flockes may feed to see thee faint , Thou lost , they leane , and both with woe attaint . For shame cast off these discontented lookes , For griefe doth waight one life , tho neuer sought , ( So Thenot wrote admir'd for Pipe and bookes : ) Then to the springe attemper thou thy thought , And let aduice reare vp thy drooping minde : And leaue to weepe thy woes vnto the winde . Damon . Ah Demades no wounder tho I waile , For euen the spring is winter vnto me , Looke as the sunne the earth doth then auaile , When by his beames , his bowels warmed bee : Euen so a Saint more sunne bright in hir shining . First wrought my weale , now hasts my winters pining . Which louely lampe withdrawne from my poore eyes , Both partes of earth , and fire drownd vp in woe : In winter dwell : my ioy my courage dies , My lambes with me that doe my winter knowe ? For pitty scorne the spring that nyeth neere , And pine to see , their Masters pining cheere . The roote which yeeldeth sappe vnto the tree , Drawes from the earth the meanes that makes it spring : And by the sap the siens fostered bee , All from the sunne haue comfort and increasing : And that faire eie that lightes this earthly ball , Killes by depart , and neeting cheereth all . As roote to tree such is my tender heart , Whose sappe is thought , whose braunches are content : And from my soule they drawe their sweet or smarte , And from hir eie , my soules best life is lent . Which heauenly eye that lightes both earth and aire , Quels by depart and quickens by repaire . Demades . Giue periode to the processe of thy plaint , Vnhappie Damon witty in selfe-greeuing : Tend thou thy flockes , let tyrant loue attaint , Those tender heartes that make their loue their liuing . And as kinde time keepes Phillis from thy sight , So let preuention banish fancie quite . Cast hence this Idle fuel of desire , That feede● that flame wherein thy heart consumeth : Let reason schoole thy will which doth aspire , And counsell coole impatience that presumeth : Driue hence vaine thoughtes which are fond loues abetters ; For he that seekes his thraldoome merits fetters . The vaine Idea of this dietie nust at the teate of thine Imagination : Was bred brought , vp by thine owne vanitie , Whose beeing thou mayest curse from the creation : And so thou list , thou maiest as soone forget loue , As thou at first didst fashion and beget loue . Damon Peace Demades peace sheep-heard do not tempt me , The sage-taught wise may speake thus , but not practise : Rather from life , then from my loue exempt me , My happie loue wherein my weale and wracke lies : Where chillie age first left loue , and first lost hir , There youth found loue , likt loue , and loue did foster . Not as Ambitious of their owne decay , But curious to equall your fore deedes : So tread we now within your woonted way , We find your fruites of iudgementes and their seedes . We know you lou'd , and louing learne that lore , You scorne kind loue , because you can no more : Tho from this pure refiner of the thought , The gleanings of your lerninges haue you gathred Your liues had beene abortiue bace and nought , Except by happie loue they had beene fathered , Then still the swaine , for I will still avowe it : They haue no witte nor worth that dis-alow it . Then to renewe the ruines of my teares , Be thou no hinderer Demades I pray thee . If my loue sighes , grow tedious in thine cares , Flye me , that flye from ioy , I list not stay thee , Morne sheepe , morne lambes , & Damon wil weep by you . And when I sigh come home sweete Phillis cry you . Come home sweete Phillis , for thine absence causeth A flowerlesse prime-tide in these drooping medowes , To push his beauties foorth each primrose pauseth , Our Lillies and our Roses like coy widowes Shut in their buddes their beauties , & bemoane them , Because my Phillis doth not smile vpon them . The trees by my redoubled sighes long blasted , Call for thy balme-sweete breath and sunnie eyes , To whom all natures comforts are hand-fasted , Breath , looke on them , and they to life arise : They haue new liueries with each smile thou lendest , And droope with me , when thy faire brow thou bendest . I wooe thee Phillis with more earnest weeping , Then Niobe for hir dead issue spent , I pray thee Nimph who hast our spring in keeping : Thou mistresse of our flowers and my content , Come home and glad our Meades of winter wearie , And make thy wofull Damon blith and merrie , Else will I captiue all my hopes againe , And shut them vp in prisons of dispaire : And weepe such teares as shal destroy this plaine . And sigh such sighes as shall Eclipse the aire . And cry such cries as loue that heares my crying , Shall faint and weepe for griefe , and fall a dying . My little world hath vow'd no sunne shall glad it , Except thy little world her light discouer , Of which heauens would growe proud if so they had it , Oh how I feare least absent Ioue shoulde loue her , I feare it Phillis , for he neuer sawe one , That had more heauen-sweet lookes to lure & awe one . I sweare to thee all-seeing soueraine , Rowling heauens circles round about our center : Except my Phillis safe returne againe , No ioy to heart , no meate to mouth shall enter . All hope ( but future hope to be renouned , For weeping Phillis ) shall in teares be drowned . Demades . How large a scope lendes Damon to his moane , Wasting those treasures of his happy-witte : In regestring his wofull woe-begone ? Ah bende thy Muse to matters farre more fitte : For time shall come when Phillis is interd , That Damon shall confesse that he hath erd . When natures riches shal ( by time dissolued ) Call thee to see with more iudiciall eye : How Phillis beauties are to dust resolued , Thou then shalt aske thy selfe the reason why Thou wert so fond , since Phillis was so fraile , To praise her giftes that should so quickly faile ? Haue mercie on thy selfe cease being idle , Let reason claime and gaine of will his homage : Raine in these brain-sicke thoughts with iudgements bridle , A short preuention helpes a mighty domage . If Phillis loue , loue hir , yet loue hir so : That if she flye , thou maiest loues fire forgo . Play with the fire , yet die not in the flame , Show passions in thy wordes , but not in heart : Least when thou think'st to bring thy thoughtes in frame : Thou proue thy selfe a prisoner by thine Arte. Play with these babes of loue , as Apes with Glasses , And put no trust in feathers , winde , or la●●es . Da. Did not thine age yeeld warrantise ( olde man ) Impatience would inforce me to offend thee , Me list not now thy froward skill to scanne , Yet will I pray that loue may mend or end thee . Spring flowers , sea-tides , earth grasse , skie stars shal banish , Before the thoughtes of loue or Phillis vanish . So get the gone and fold thy tender sheepe , For lo the greate Autumedon of day : In Isis streame his golden lockes doth steepe , Sad Euen her duskie mantle doth display ? Light-flying foules the posts of night disport them , And cheerfull looking Vesper doth consort them . Come you my carefull flocke fore goe your maister , I le folde you vp and after fall a sighing , Wordes haue no worth my secret woundes to plaister , Nought may refresh my ioyes but Phillis nighing . Farewell olde Demades , DE. Damon farewell . How gainst aduise doth headlong youth rebell .

An Elegie . Ah cruel windes why call you hence away : Why make you breach betwixt my soule and mee ? Ye trayterous floodes why 〈◊〉 your floates delaie , Vntill my latest moanes discoursed bee ? For tho yee salte sea-Gods with hold the raigne : Of all your floates . And gentle windes befall ; While I haue wept such teares , as might restraine The rage of tides and windes against then will . Ah shall I lose your sight bright shining eyes ? And must my soule his life and glory leaue ? Must I forsake the bower where solace liues , To trust to tickle fates that still deceiue ? " Ah-las so willes the wanton Queene of chaunge , " That each man tract this laborinth of life , " With slippery steps , now wrongd by fortune strange , " Now drawne by counsell from the maze of strife ? " Ah ioy no ioy because so so soone thou fleetest , Houres , dayes , and times inconstant in your beeing . Oh life , no life since with such chaunce thou meetest , Oh eies , no cies since you must loose your seeing : Soule bee thou sad , dissolue thy liuing powers . To christall teares , and by their pores expresse , The griefe , that my destressed soule deuoures : Cloath thou my body all in heauinesse , My sonnes appeard faire smiling full of pleasure . But now the vale of absence ouer cloudes them : They fed my heart with ioyes exceeding measure Which now shal dy , since absence needs must shroud them Yea die , oh death , sweet death , vouchsafe that blessing , That I may die the death whilest she regardeth , For sweet were death , and sweete , were deathes oppressing , If she looke on who all my life awardeth . Oh thou that art the portion of my ioy , Yet not the portion , for thou art the prime : Suppose my griefes , conceiue the deepe anoy , That wounds my soule vpon this sorrye time : Pale is my face , and in my pale confesses , The paine I suffer , since I needes must leaue thee , Redde are mine eyes through teares that them oppresses , Dul'd are my sprits since fates do now bereue thee . And now , ah now , my plaintes are quite preuented , The windes are faire the sailes are hoysed hie , The Anckers waid , and now quite discontented , Griefe so subdewes my hart as it should dye . A faint farewell , with trembling hand I tender , And with my teares my papers are distained , Which closed vp , my heart in them I render , To tell thee how at parting I complained . Vouchsafe his message that doth bring farewell , And for my sake let him with beautie dwell .

Thirsis Aegloga Secunda . Muses helpe me , sorrow swarmeth , Eyes are fraught with seas of languish : Heauie hope my sollace harmeth , Mindes repast is bitter anguish . Eye of day regarded neuer , Certaine trust , in world vntrusty , Flattering hope beguileth euer : Weary olde , and wanton lustie . Dawne of day beholdes inthroned , Fortunes darling , proude and dreadlesse : Darkesome night doth heare h●m moaned , Who before was rich and needlesse . Robb the sphre of lines vnited , Make a sodaine voide in nature : Force the day to bee benighted , Reaue the cause of time and creature . Ere the world will cease to varie , This I weepe for this I sorrow . Muses if you please to tarry , Further helpes I meane to borrow . Courted once by fortunes fauour , Compast now with enures curies : All my thoughts of sorrow sauer , Hopes runne fleeting like the sourses . ( Ay me ) wanton scorne hath maimed , Al the ioy my heart enioyed : Thoughtes their thinking haue disclaimed , Hate my hopes hath quite anoyed . Scant regard my weale hath scanted , Looking coy hath forst my lowering : Nothing likt where nothing wanted , Weddes mine eyes to ceaselesse showering . Former loue was once admired , Present fauour is estranged , Loath the pleasure long desired , Thus both men and thoughtes are changed . Louely swaine with luckie guiding , Once ( ebut now no more so friended ) Thou my flockes hast had in mindinge , From the morne till day was ended Drinke and fodder foode and foulding , Had my lambes and ewes together I with them was still beholding , Both in warmth and winter weather . Now they languish since refused , Ewes and lambes are paind with pining I with ewes and lambes confused . All vnto our deathes declyning . Silence leaue thy caue obscured , Daine a dolfull swaine to tender , Though disdaines I haue endured . Ye I am no deepe offender . Phillips sonne canne with his finger , Hide his scarre it is so little : Little sinne a day to linger , Wise men wander in a Tittle . Thriftles yet my swaine haue turned , Though my sunne he neuer showeth : Though I weepe I am not mourned , Though I want no pittie groweth . Yet for pittie loue my muses , Gentle silence be their couer : They must leaue their wonted vses , Since I leaue to bee a louer . They shall liue with thee inclosed , I will loath my pen and paper : Arte shall neuer be supposed , Sloath shall quench the watching taper . Kisse them silence , kisse them kindly Though I leaue them , yet I loue them : Though my wit haue led them blindly , Yet my swaine did once approue them . I will trauell soyles remoued , Night and morrowe neuer merie : Thou shalt harbor that I loued , I will loue that makes me werye . If perchaunce the sheepe strayeth , In thy walkes and shades vnhaunted : Tell the teene my heart betrayeth , How neglect my ioyes hath daunted .

Sonnet XXI . Ye heraultes of my heart , mine ardent groanes , O teares which gladly would burst out to brookes , Oh spent on fruitlesse sande my surging moanes , Oh thoughtes enthrald vnto care-boading lookes . Ah iust laments of my vniust distresse , Ah fond desires whom reason could not guide , Oh hopes of loue that intimate redresse , Yet proue the load-stars vnto bad betide . When will you cease ? or shall paine neuer ceasing , Seaze on my heart ? oh molifie your rage , Least your assaultes with ouer switf increasing , Procure my death , or call on timelesse age . What if they do ? they shall but feede the fire , Which I haue kindled by my fond desire . Sonnet XXII . Faire art thou Phillis , I so faire ( sweet mayd ) As nor the sunne , nor I haue seene more faire , For in thy cheekes sweet roses are embayde , And golde more pure then gold doth guilde thy haire . Sweet Bees haue hiu'd their hony on thy tongue , And Hebe spic't hir Necter with thy breath : About thy necke do all the graces thronge , And lay such baites as might entangle death . In such a breast what heart would not be thrall ? From such sweet armes who would not wish embraces ? At thy faire handes who wonders not at all , Wounder it selfe through ignorance embases ? Yet naithelesse tho wonderous giftes you call these , My faith is farre more wonderfull then all these . Sonnet XXIII . Burst burst poore heart thou hast no longer hope , Captiue mine eyes vnto eternall sleepe , Let all my sences haue no further scope , Let death be lord of me and all my sheepe . For Phillis hath betrothed fierce disdaine : That makes his mortall mantion in hir heart , And though my tonge haue long time taken paine , To sue deuorse and wed hir to desart . She will not yeeld , my wordes can haue no power , She scornes my faith , she laughes at my sad layes , She filles my soule with neuer ceasing sower , Who fi lt the world with volumes of hir praise : In such extreames what wretch can cease to craue His peace from death , who can no mercy haue . Sonnet XXIIII No glory makes me glorious or glad , Nor pleasure may to pleasure me dispose , Ne comfort can reuiue my sences sad , Nor hope enfranchise me with one repose . Nor in hir absence tast I one delight , Nor in hir presence am I well content , Was neuer time gaue tearme to my dispight , Nor ioy that dried the teares of my lament : Nor holde I hope of weale in memorie , Nor haue I thought to change my restlesse griefe , Nor doth my conquest yeelde me souerainetie , Nor hope repose , nor confidence , reliefe . For why she sortes hir frownes and fauoures so , As when I gaine or loose I cannot know : Sonnet XXV . I wage the combat with two mightie foes , Which are more strong then I ten thousand folde , The one is when thy pleasure I do lose , The other , when thy person I beholde : In seeing thee a swarme of loues confound me , And cause my death in spight of my resist , And if I see thee not thy want doth wound me , For in thy sight my comfort doth consist . The one in me continuall care createth , The other doth occasion my desire , : The one the edge of all my ioy rebateth , The other makes me a Phenix in loues fire So that I grieue when I enioy your presence , And dye for griefe by reason of your absence . Sonnet XXVI . I le teach thee louely Phillis , what loue is , It is a vision seeming such as thou That flies as fast as it assaultes mine eies : It is affection that doth reason misse ; It is a shape of pleasure like to you , Which meetes the eie , and seene on sodaine dies , It is a doubled griefe a sparke of pleasure , Begot by vaine desire , and this is loue , Whom in our youth we count our chiefest treasure In age for want of power we do reproue : Yea such a power is loue , whose losse is paine , And hauing got him we repent our gaine . Sonnet XXVII . Faire eyes whilest fearefull I your faire admire , By vnexpressed sweetnes that I gaine , My memory of sorrow doth expire , And faulcon like I tower ioyes heauens amaine But when your sonnes in Oceans of their glory , Shut vppe their day-bright shine , I dye for thought : So passe my ioyes as doth a new plaid storie , And one poore sigh breaths all delight to nought . So to my selfe I liue not , but for you , For you I liue , and you I loue , but none else : Oh then faire eyes whose light I liue to viewe , Or poore forlorne despis'd to liue alone els , Looke sweete since from the pith of contemplation , Loue gathereth life , and liuing , breedeth passion . Sonnet XXVIII . Not causlesse were you christned ( gentle flowers ) The one of faith , the other fancies pride , For she who guides both faith and fancies power , In your faire coloures wrapes hir Iuory side : As one of you hath whitenes without staine , So spotlesse is my loue and neuer tainted : And as the other shadoweth faith againe , Such is my lasse , with no fond chaunge acquainted : And as nor tirant sonne nor winter weather , May eeuer chaunge sweet Amaranthus hew : So she tho loue and fortune ioyne together , Will neuer leaue to bee both faire and true : And should I leaue thee then thou prettie else ? Nay first let Damon quite forget himselfe . Sonnet XXIX . I feele my selfe endaungered beyond reason , My death alreadie twixt the cup and lippe , Because my proud desire through cursed treason , Would make my hopes mount heauen , which cannot skip : My fancie still requireth at my handes , Such thinges as are not , cannot , may not bee And my desire altho my power with standes , Will giue me winges , who neuer yet could flee : What then remaines except my maimed soule , Extort compassion from loue-flying age , Or if nought els their furye may controwle , To call on death that quels affections rage . Which death shall dwell with me and neuer flie , Since vaine desire seekes that hope doth denie . Sonnet XXX . I doe compare vnto thy youthly cleare , ( Which alwaies bydes within thy flowring prime , ) The month of Aprill , that bedewes our clime With pleasant flowers , when as his showers appeare , Before thy face , shall flie false crueltie , Before his face , the doaly season fleetes , Milde beene his lookes , thine eyes are full of sweetes : Firme is his course , firme is thy loialtie . He paints the fieldes through liquid christall showers , Thou paint'st my verse with Pallas learned flowers : With Zephirus sweet breath he fils the plaines , And thou my hart with weeping sighes doost wring , His browes are dewd with mornings christall spring , Thou mak'st my eyes with teares bemoane my paines . Sonnet XXXI . Deuoide of reason , thrale to foolish ire , I walke and chase a sauage fairie still , Now neere the flood , straight on the mounting hill , Now midst the woodes of youth , and vaine desire : For leash I beare a cord of carefull griefe , For brach I lead an ouer forward minde , My houndes are thoughtes , and rage dispairing blind , Paine , crueltie , and care without reliefe : But they perceiuing that my swift pursute , My flying fairie cannot ouertake , With open mouthes their pray on me do make , Like hungrie houndes that lately lost their suite . And full of furie on their maister feede , To hasten on my haplesse death with speede . Sonnet XXXII . A thousand times to thinke and thinke the same , To two faire eies to show a naked heart , Great thirst with bitter licor to restraine , To take repast of care and crooked smart : To sigh full oft without relent of yre , To dye for griefe and yet conceale the tale , To others will to fashion my desire , To pine in lookes disguisd through penciue-pale ; A short dispight , a faith vnfained true , To loue my foe , and set my life at nought , With heedlesse eies mine endlesse harmes to viewe , A will to speake , a feare to tell the thought , To hope for all , yet for dispaire to die , Is of my life the certaine destenie . Sonnet XXXIII . When first sweet Phillis ( whom I must adore ) Gan with her beauties blesse our wondring skie , The sonne of Rhea , from their fatall store Made all the Gods to grace her Maiestie . Apollo first his golden rayes among , Did forme the beauty of her bounteous eyes : He grac't her with his sweet melodious song , And made her subiect of his poesies . The warriour Mars , bequeath'd her fierce disdaine , Venus her smile , and Phoebe all her fayre , Python his voyce , and Ceres all her graine , The morne her lockes and fingers did repayre . Young Loue , his bowe , and Thetis gaue her feete : Clio her praise , Pallas her science sweete . Sonnet XXXIIII . I would in rich and golden coloured raine , With tempting showers in pleasant sort discend , Into faire Phillis lappe ( my louely friend ) When sleepe hir sence with slomber doth restraine . I would be chaunged to a milk-white Bull , When midst the gladsome fieldes she should appeare , By pleasant finenes to surprise my deere , Whilest from their stalkes , she pleasant flowers did pull : I were content to wearie out my paine , To bee Narsissus so she were a spring To drowne in hir those woes my heart do wring : And more I wish transformed to remaine : That whilest I thus in pleasures lappe did lye , I might refresh desire , which else would die . Sonnet XXXV . I hope and feare , I pray and hould my peace , Now freeze my thoughtes and straight they frie againe , I now admire and straight my wounders cease , I loose my bondes and yet my selfe restraine : This likes me most that leaues me discontent , My courage serues and yet my heart doth faile , My will doth clime whereas my hopes are spent , I laugh at loue , yet when he comes I quaile . The more I striue , the duller bide I still , I would bee thrald , and yet I freedome loue , I would redresse , yet hourly feede myne ill , I would repine , and dare not once reproue , And for my loue I am bereft of power , And strengthlesse striue my weaknes to deuoure . Sonnet xxxvj . If so I seeke the shades , I presently doe see The God of Loue forsakes his bow and sitte me by : If that I think to write , his Muses plyant be , If so I plaine my griefe , the wanton boy will cry . If I lament his pride , he doth increase my paine , If teares my cheeks attaint , his cheeks are moist with mone , If I disclose the woundes the which my hart hath slaine , He takes his Fascia off , and wipes them dry anone . If so I walke the woodes , the woodes are his delight , If I my selfe torment , he bathes hym in my blood : He will my souldiour be if once I wend to fight , If seas delight , he stears my Barke amidst the flood : In breefe , the cruell God doth neuer from me goe , But makes my lasting loue eternall with my woe . Sonnet xxxvij . These fierce incessant waues that streame along my face , Which show the certaine proofe of my nere-ceasing pains , Fayre Phillis are no teares that trickle from my brains : For why such streames of ruth , within me find no place . These floods that wet my cheeks , are gathered from thy grace And thy perfections , & from hundreth thousand flowers Which from thy beauties spring : wherto I medly showers Of Rose and Lillyes to , the collours of thy face . My loue doth serue for fire , my hart the fornace is , The aperries of my sighes augment the burning flame , The Limbique is myne eye that doth distill the same : And by how much my fire is violent and flye , By so much doth it cause the waters mount on hie , That showre from out mine eyes , for to asswage my misse . Sonnet xxxviij . Who lyues inthrald to Cupid and his flame , From day to day is chang'd in sundry sort : The proofe whereof my selfe may well report , Who oft transformd by him may teach the same . I first was turnd into a wounded Hart , That bare the bloodie arrow in my side : Then to a Swanne that midst the waters glide , With pittious voyce presagd my deadlie smart . Eft-soones I waxt a faint and fading flower , Then was I made a fountaine suddaine dry , Distilling all my teares from troubled eye : Now am I Salamander by his power , Liuing in flames , but hope ere long to be A voice , to talke my Mistresse maiestie . Sonnet xxxix . My matchlesse Mistresse , whose delicious eyes Haue power to perfect natures priuie wants , Euen when the Sunne in greatest pompe did ryse , With pretty tread , dyd presse the tender plants . Each stalk whilst forth she stalkes , to kysse her feete Is proud with pompe , and prodigall of sweete . Her fingers faire in fauouring euery flower That wooed theyr Iuory for a wished touch : By chaunce ( sweet chaunce ) vpon a blessed hower , Did pluck the flower where Loue himselfe did couch . Where Loue did couch , by summer toyle supprest , And sought his sleepes within so sweete a nest . The Virgins hand that held the wanton thrall , Imprisoned him within the Rose-ate leaues : And twixt her teates , with fauour did enstall The louely Rose , where Loue his rest receaues . The lad that felt the soft and sweet so nye , Drownd in delights , disdaines his liberty . And sayd , let Venus seeke another sonne , For heare my onely matchlesse Mother is : From whose fayre orient Orbes the drinke doth ronne , That deifies my state with greater blis : Thys sayd , he suckt , my Mistresse blushing smyld , Since Loue was both her prisoner and her child . Sonnet xl . Resembling none , and none so poore as I , Poore to the world , and poore in each esteeme , Whose first borne loues , at first obscurd did die , And bred no fame but flame of bace misdeeme . Vnder the Ensigne of whose tyred pen , Loues legions forth haue maskt , by others masked : Thinke how I lyue wronged by ill tonged men , Not Maister of my selfe , to all wrongs tasked . Oh thou that canst , and she that may doe all things , Support these languishing conceits that perrish , Looke on theyr growth : perhaps these sillie small things May winne this worldly palme , so you doe cherrish . Homer hath vowd , and I with him doe vowe thys , He will and shall reuiue , if you alowe thys .

An Ode . NOwe I find thy lookes were fained , Quickly lost , and quicklie gained : Soft thy skinne , like wooll of Weathers , Hart vnstable , light as feathers . Tongue vntrustie , subtil sighted , Wanton will , with change delighted : Siren pleasant , foe to reason , Cupid plague thee for this treason . Of thine eyes , I made my mirror , From thy beautie came mine error , All thy words I counted wittie , All thy smiles I deemed pritty . Thy false teares that me agrieued , First of all my trust deceiued , Siren pleasant , foe to reason , Cupid plague thee for this treason . Faind acceptance when I asked , Louely words with cunning masked , Holy vowes but hart vnholly , Wretched man my trust was folly : Lillie white and prettie winking , Sollemne vowes , but sorry thinking . Siren pleasant , foe to reason , Cupid plague thee for this treason . Now I see O seemely cruell , Others warme them at my fuell , Wit shall guide me in this durance , Since in loue is no assurance . Change thy pasture , take thy pleasure , Beautie is a fading treasure . Siren pleasant , foe to reason , Cupid plague thee for this treason . Prime youth lusts not age still follow , And make white these tresses yellow , Wrinckled face for lockes delightfull , Shall acquaint the Dame despightfull : And when time shall eate thy glory , Then too late thou wilt be sorry . Siren pleasant , foe to reason , Cupid plague thee for thy treason .

The complaint of Elstred . THE silent shadowes with their mothers vaile , The brighter lampe of Heauen from Thetis hid : Apolloes sister in her starrie raile , Along her lower spheare in tryumph rid , When I by Seuerus beauteous banckes alone , Encountred with this wofull vision . A dolefull Queene in semblance and array , Attended by a princely looking lasse : Amidst the waltring waue inforc't her way , And landed there where I lamenting was : Both seemd of royall birth , and well begotten , Altho their weedes through eld and wette were rotten . The leaues in Autumne fall not downe so fast , As liquid christall dropped from their eyes : But when their stormie teares were ouer-past , ( The silent spoks-men of their miseries ) They sate them downe where I amaz'd remained , And thus their falls successiuely complained . Amidst the troopes of those whom tyrant Fate Hath ledde in tr●umph to their time-lesse graue : Let wof●ll Elstred weepe her wretched state , Whose storie merrits some regard to haue . Who once inthron'd , and now to fortune thrall , May teach successions to auoyde my fall . Within that Region where proud-byllowed Rhine , Doth animate the babes of fruitfull earth : And baines the bosome of the swelling Vine : From thence my of-spring came , and thence my byrth In swathing clowtes , for happy Princesse heried , In shrowding sheete , a haplesse Princesse buried . What said I , buried ? I in siluer waue . What said I , shrowded ? I in liquid sheete . The water both my winding sheete and graue , Which stifling me , for pitty seemd to greete : But where the life so wretched did become , What talke I of the death , the shrowd , the Tombe ? When first I suckt the sweetes of subtile ayre , Like to a Comet gathered in the North , ( Which in the vernall season makes repayre ) With me all natures ritches issued forth . They that beheld , admird , and did presage By infancie , the honours of myne age . The fame that should present my facts to view , As I from cradle crept , so gathered wing : As grew my beauties , so his feathers grew , As waxt my worth , so was he prest to spring , As yeeres increast , from earth to trees he sprung , From trees to towers , from whence my fame he sung . Thus through continuall motion growing great , His many feathers hatcht as many eyes , His eyes , as many tongues for to intreate , His tongues , as many eares to harken cryes . Which feathers , eyes , tongues , eares , he euer frames To paint our praise , and bruit our endlesse blames . Thys monstrous babe ( that rents his mothers brest , To fill the world with tragick historie ) To register my beauties neuer ceast , Where-through , each eare that heard the nouelty , Summons each sence with wonder to behold , If beauties were so great as they were told . The Germaine Lords , my Fathers neighbour freends , ( For why my Father was a Germaine Peere ) Willing to see the face which Fame commends , Doe haunt his Court , and like and loue me deere . All wooe , none winne , for Fortune would it so , To sette me hie , at last to cast me low . At length , farre bruited through hys famous fight , Renowned Humber terror of hys time , ( More feard then lou'd of euery Germaine Knight ) Came to our Court , and saw me in my prime : All like a mayden-rose , as yet vntainted , Where-with each touch desires to be acquainted . His power , his person farre beyond report , His promise to enstall me in a throne : His working words which mercy might extort , Had power to fashion loue where first was none : So that two Damsels with my selfe agreed , To waight from him our fortunes and good speed . Thus we with armed eyes , whence loue did forage The richest treasures of his tender hart , Inspyred Humber by our lookes with courage , With him from Germaine soyle we did depart : For him , our friends , for him , our land we left , With him , of friends , lands , life we were bereft . His myghty minde which hunted after fame , ( Fore-staling each occasion of delay : ) His warlike troopes to tedious martch did frame , Till all arriu'd where as his shyppes did stay , We were embarckt , and by propitious wind , Within th' Albanian Coast did harbor find . He that hath seene the daughters of the skye , The myracles of nature in the fielde , Who after theyr imperiall chieftaine flye , And cull such comforts as the spring doth yeeld , How each his taske , how all themselues reuiue At his commaund , for to enrich theyr Hiue : Or as the royall Monarcke of the Ants , Arranging of his little-labouring traine , ( In Summer tyme fore-seeing Winters wants ) By theyr indeuours stores his nest with graine , Where each industrious else for common good , Doth gather , seeke , regather happy foode . So striue these Scithian warriours , to expresse Their duties to theyr Prince by industrie : Some pitch theyr Tents , and some theyr Armes addresse , Some scoute , some forage all the Country nie . The Plow-mans hope , the thrifty Husbands tillage , Is now become the wast-full souldiours pillage . Stout Albanact as then the Scottish King , Hearing of Humbers proud inuasion : To stoppe ambition least it further spring , Attended by the flower of all his Nation , Encountered him , and that his barbarous band , Endeuouring force , by force for to withstand . Then pressed forth from depth of horrid hell , The babes of wreakfull warre with threatning browes : Reuengefull Wrath , and sleeplesse Enuie fell , Prodigious Feare her trembling lymmes did rowse : And flesh-lesse Death , ledde blood-affecting Murther , The tragicke change of fortune for to further . The Husbands scithe was chaunged to a sword , The Coblers-aule into a sturdie launce : Peace was obscurd , of warre was euery word , All prayd to Fortune for succes-full chaunce , That sits inthrond on her inconstant seate , And helpes them most who least her helpe intreate . As when to purge excessiue moyst , descending From Saturns spheare , or els superfluous heate Styrd vp by Mars , Ioue ( common good intending ) Sends lyghtning-flash to lay theyr angry threate . So wiser heads that knew the scourge of warre , Sought sooth-fast meanes to mittigate the iarre . But as a troope of fierce incensed Bulles , The Heards-mans strokes or threats doe sette at nought : So they whose rankorous rage their iudgment dulles , Had little minde to peace or peace-full thought . " Who fight for Crownes , set life , set all to light , " Who aime so hie , will die or hit the white . The battailes ioynd , heauen mournd to see them ioyne , The burnisht Armes , heauens brightest beautie basht : On warlike-steades with many a fatall foine , The moodie men at Armes together dasht . The Heauens to see , the Earth to beare did grone , What God consents to set these iarres at one ? As when a troope of haruest thriftie swaines , With cutting scithes earth ripned ritches mowe : Whole sheaues of Corne lye strewd vpon the plaines , So fall the Scots before the conquering foe . My Humber gaind both kingdome and renowne , And Albanact lost life , his state , his Crowne . When Albanact lost life , his state , his crowne , Then we our lyues , our states , our crownes attained : We came to conquer and to put him downe , And what we sought , by warlike sword we gained . Caesar no more then Humber could intend , Who came , who saw , who conquered in the end . But ( woe is me ) promotion is a puffe , These worldly honors are but shades of sweete : Who seeke too much , before they gette enough , Before they meete the meane , with death doe meete . With death they meete , the Hauen of all desire , Where will must waine , and pride cannot aspire . For when Locrinus with his warlike brother , His warlike brother Cambre , vnderstood How partiall Fortune which deserts doth smother , Had brought to nought the nestling of theyr brood : They leuied men , marcht forth without in comber , And fought , and gaind , and tryumpht ouer Humber . Then fled my loue , who thought the world shold flie him , And what he fledde , he mette with ere he sought it , For why the floods that passage did denie him , Deni'de him not the death , before he thought it : And in that stood which terminats the bound , Whereon the waters are called Humber waters to thys day . Twixt England & twixt Scotland , death he found . There death he found , with many a warlike Knight . There found we thraldome , farre more worse then death , Cordes were our Crownes , our dainties were despight , My two consorts ( aie's me ) there lost their breath . There lost I friends , there lost I helpes , there hope , But loe my fortune aymes at higher scope . For where I lost my loue , my friends , my hope , There found I hope , there faithful friends , there loue : And whilst I went fast fettered in a rope , Weeping such teares as might compassion moue , I was presented by vnhallowed hand , To stoute Locrinus King of Logiers land . Who like that thunder-threatning Potentate , The Arbiter of changes and increase , Sate lightning forth such lookes as might amate Warre-breeding Mars , the countercheck of peace : Him when I saw , I shooke , and shaking wept , And weeping , to his throne for mercy crept . And whilst I rent my carelesse-scattered locks , Those tricked trammels where true loue was tangled , At Locrins breast for mercy fancie knocks , Shadowed in seemely lookes where-with loue angled : And when I cry'd , O pitty me my King , His eyes cry'd pitty me , by woe looking . Each motion of mine eyes , enforc't commotion Betwixt his will and reason what to aunswere : ( But will where loue will rule , must haue promotion . ) My sute first past for life , with listning eare He heard , and graunted what I did require , Ennobling of my life by his desire . My bonds newe broke , and I from fetters los'd , As mount the brother twinnes from waterie vast , Within fayre Thetis liquid lappe fore-clos'd , So from their humbled closures lightned fast My louely lampes , which earst made intercession , And by one looke , of all harts tooke possession . All wonder , and with dazeled eyes with-draw them , Onely the right-borne Egle by these lights Approu'd his birth-right , and no sooner saw them Apparailed in hope , and choyce delights , But vp he lookes , by suddaine sight confounded , And I by selfe-like sight , was likely wounded . " For where there growes a simpathie of harts , " Each passion in the one , the other paineth , " And by each cariage of the outward parts , ( Wherein the actuall worke of loue remaineth ) The inward griefes , mislikes , and ioyes are tought : And euery signe bewraies a secrete thought . Short tale to tell , Locrinus had the palme And interest in all my best desseignes : Each kisse I lent him , breathed Indian balme To cure his woundes , to breake affections cheines He had Loues Moly growing on my pappes , To charme a hell of sorrow and mishappes . Loe heere my second steppe to high estate , Now marke my second fall and ouerthrow : Behold in me the tragedy of fate , The true Idea of this worldly woe : The Eris and Erynnis that proceedes From wretched life , that trusts to Fortunes weedes . Locrinus freed from hostile detriment , Possest of loue by me , and me by loue : ( Whose lookes vnto his loue gaue nutriment ) Whether by fatall motion from aboue , Or through the hote suggestions of his Lords , Vnto a second loue at last accords . To Guendolen , to Guendolen ( woe's me ) To Corincus daughter , by consult My deere Locrinus must espoused be , Euen heere gan Fortune proudly to insult . What sayd I , to insult , nay rather raigne , For hence his tyranny he did maintaine . The English King God knowes against his will , ( Or els his will , farre differed from his vowes ) His Nobles intimations to fulfill , The Cornish Guendolena did espouse . Shee got the Crowne , tho I was promist faire , And he by her begot a royall heyre . Then to my pride , rebated by her rysing , No day , no night , could passe me without plaint : My thoughts were pensiue , ful of sad surmising , My dreames , some dreadfull domage did depaint . Aloud my conscience tolde , and I confest it , My life was loose , and bad me to detest it . I feard Locrinus through his new contract , Should grow in hatred of his auncient choyce : I saw my credite was already crackt , My life condemnd for leud by common voyce . And what is worse ? I knew the Queene intended That but with death her wrath should not be ended . Amidst these thriuing thoughts , whilst I assaied With vaine-affected hopes , to ouer-top The true-inflicted paines my hart betraid , Locrinus came : and by sweet words did stop The breach , which guilty conscience and vnrest Had made , within the rampayres of my brest . The ruines which incessant feare prouokt , By his well tempered reasons were renewed : My halfe-dead ioyes whom danger long had chokt , Were cheer'd with kisses which sweet words insewed . Hys words attended by truth-meaning teares , Rauisht my hart , through myne attentiue eares . Tho Guendolen ( saith he ) doth tyrannise , Yet Elstred is the soueraigne of my soule : Th' inforced sollace , like to vapour flies That hath no power repining harts to towle . And wrested wedlocks breed but hated heate , Where no loue seemes so sweet , as stolne and secrete . Ah , temporise my loue a little season ; And reape the ripning haruest of all pleasure : Gleane all my loues , and doe me but this reason , To serue occasion tyll she gyues thee seasure . Rent out thy feares to mindes more bace and abiect , And trust thy lyfe to me , thy beauties subiect . Disparage not my hope by thy misdeeming , The nest is thine , altho the Cuckow hatch there : Loue lyues not there where lookes make louely-seeming , Beare witnes heauens , I neuer meant to match there . But I inforst to flye a further mischiefe , In colour her , in hart doe hold thee chiefe . All these and more , sweet chaines of honny speech , Deliuered by a trick Herculean tongue , Able to tice all eares , and all griefes teach , So rooted vp my sorrowes as they sprung , That hope suruiu'd , and ioy exhaled greefe : " For perfect loue is quickest of beleefe . And to effect his honny promise plighted , No pleasures were vnsought to yeeld me sollace : The darksome care which my harts hope benighted , The sunne-shine of his princly loue did chace . Delight in showers of gold , in harmonie , In curious gemmes , was sent to please mine eye . And to assure my lyfe and his content , A second Cretan wonder he began , Wherein nor wanted arte nor ornament , Nor curious worke of high conceited man : By hundreth waies , and twice as mickle winding , Crost , and recrost , beyond all searchers finding . Not that Colossus reared vp in Rhodes , Nor hanging Gardens houering in the sky : Nor all the wonderous mansions and aboades In Egipt , Lemnos , or in Italy , Eyther for riches , cunning , or expence , Might match this Laborinth for excellence . Within thys Maze and curious Caue I kept , And those the Saphires of my shyning eyes Long wakned by my feares , in quiet slept . Heere when Locrinus list to wanton nise , I payd him trybute for those gifts he sent me , With all the sweets that God and nature lent me . So long in lystes of pleasure did we striue , Till both affections mutually agreed , The happy heauens a Trophie did reuiue , A Trophie of our tryumph and good speede : A pretty babe for me to stay withall , A louely child for hym to play withall . Then loe the fire regathered moodie might , Long smothered in the embers of suspect : In me alone Locrinus tooke delight , And so my new-borne Sabrine did affect , That nor his wife , her sonne , or ought could moue him To leaue my loue , who did so deerely loue him . " Mislikes are silly lets where Kings resolue them , " Where counsaile-chasing will hath empery , " Deedes are too prest for reason to dissolue them . " In mighty mindes a grounded vanity " Like Iuie springs , that ceaslesse neuer stoppeth , " Vntill her neighbour-Oake she ouer-toppeth . Locrinus hearing of the haplesse date Of Corineus , Guendolenues Father : Now gan to tempest forth his smothered hate He durst not threaten forth , or publish rather : And both his wife , and his vnhappy chyld , From Crowne , from Court , from fauour quite exild . Then was I drawne like that sea-fostered Queene , From those obscurer prysons of my glory , And brought abroade in tryumphe to be seene : None durst vpbraid , though many harts were sory . All likt my lookes , tho each one curst my life , To see a harlot so supplant a wife . But as the Sunne in March , is held vnholesome For stirring vmors , and not laying them : Filling the earth and ayre with moistnes fulsome , Yet not resoluing or decaying them , So was Locrinus blamed for this action : Who brought to head heere-through a mighty faction . For Guendolen , with that heroick sprite Where-with her Father was enobled erst , To wreake on me her Miriades of despight , The sentence of her wrongs by power reuerst , Her harmes , by armes , she vowd to satis-fie , And heereon leuied a mighty Armie . And thus attended in tryumphant order , And garded by her warlike Cornish crew , She pitcht her field , neere to those banks which border This azure-mantled streame , where now we rewe . The King that sets a womans threates at nought , Prest men , and met hys foe , and with her fought . But so would Fortune , ( fie on Fortune fickle ) That by a shaft Locrinus was confounded : His scattered troopes like sheaues before the sickle , Fell downe , or fled , or died deadly wounded . Ah guilt lesse soules , they perrisht for my sinnes , And from theyr fall , my tragedy beginnes . Ah Fortune , nurse of fooles , poyson of hope , Fuell of vaine desires , deserts destruction , Impugner of preuentions , errors scope , Supposed soueraigne through our vaine construction , Princesse of Paganisme , roote of impietie , Deuill on earth masked in deitie ; Scorne of the learned , Follies eldest sister , Bastard of tyme , begot by vaine opinion Against thy power , O peeuish proud resister , Mother of lyes , and Mistresse of illusion , Vampe of vaine glory , double faced shroe , Whose smyles at first succesfull , end in woe . It was not thou , ( tho worldly wits accuse thee ) That sette Mount Gibel of my plagues a burning : It was not thou , my conscience doth excuse thee , It was my sinne that wrought myne ouer-turning . It was but iustice , from the heauens inflicted On lustfull life , defamed and conuicted . As when the poule that vnder-props the Vine , Is rest away , the crimson clusters fall , And as the buildings suddainly decline , That want the meanes to stay them vp withall : So when the King , and all his trusty freends Were fled or slaine , then loe mine honour ends . My lyttle daughter left alone with me , Both trauersing the fatall blood-dewd plaine : More fit to feare , then fleete away to flee , At last arriu'd where as my loue lay slayne : Oh slaying sight , wounds wounding , death , death breeding , Pale lookes ( yee seales of sorrow ) palenes feeding . Sweet Image of his lyuing excellence , Whilst thus it lay ( ah-las that thus it lay ) Impatient greefe would leaue me no defence , I cald on death , but teares wept death away . His worst was past , I sigh'd , but sighes nor slender Teares worke no truce , but where the hart is tender . And as the straw vnto the Iette fast cleaueth , So clunge I both myne armes about his necke : Pouring my plaints in eares that nought conceaueth . Ah loue ( quoth I ) vnkind , why dost thou checke , Why dost thou mate the minds that most admire thee , And in our needes , in constant thus retire thee ? Breathe life in him againe , or leaue me breathlesse , Or from thine enuious tryumphant throne , Send forth Despayre with locks vnkempt and wreathlesse , To ioyne by death two soules in life but one . And since at once our harts thou didst inspire , Let both of vs ( O Loue ) at once expire . Oh spent on barraine ground , my flood-like weeping Loue would not heare : tho gan I trembling try If kisses could reuiue his ceaslesse sleeping , But death repines these baites of fond desire . I suckt his wounds , and wrapt them round about , But ( ah ) the life before was issued out . I faynting fell , enfeebled through my sufferaunce , My child that saw me fall , for griefe fell by me : I wept , she cryde , both gaue griefe sustenaunce , I fainted , and she fainting layd her nie me . Euen what I kyst , she kist , and what I sayd She sayd , and what I fear'd , made her afrayd . For euery sigh , a sigh , for euery teare , A teare , she was no niggard of her moane ; Ah beauties blossome blasted in the eare , Thou daughter of the haplesse woful one , The croppes of cares together must thou gather , And loose at once , both Mother , life , and Father . Whilst thus we breath'd our Elegies of sorrow , Not recking who beheld , or who surpris'd vs , The free-booters that raunge the Champion thorow , ( Who by our robes , of some high race surmis'd vs ) Layd hands on vs , and brought vs to the Queene , Who sate tryumphant royally beseene . Looke how fayre locked Iuno was affected , When she the monster-queller did behold , With selfe-like proud-full enmitie infected The Queene sate , hatching murthers manifold ; And as the wrathfull tempest , that doth follow In high-topt trees , long murmureth ere it blow , So gan she to euacuate by her tongue , The Hydraes of reuenge she had intended : With tyring taunts at first my heart she stoonge , And fierce vpbraydes with bitter buffets ended . Suborner of lasciuiousnesse , ( she cride ) Hast thou no vale of shame , thy lookes to hide ? Misgouern'd Minion , in whose wanton browes The registers of wretched life are written : Suborner of contempt , lasciuious blowse , By whom my ioyes were blasted and frost-bitten . Mistresse of murthers , loosenesse , and what not ? Now are you compast in your proud complot . The Caedar tree is falne , that did protect you From euery stormie threat and hate I ment thee : But now fierce rage by footsteps shall direct you To timelesse death ; for-thy vaine wretch repent thee , Thou art but dead : for death my hate must bound , Thy childe , thy selfe , together shall be drownd . This said , she wild the Ministers to bind Our tender armes : and now pale feare addrest Our wayning roses , quite beyond theyr kind , To flie our cheekes , and helpe our hearts opprest . Feare sommond teares , teares came , and stroue to stint A ceaslesse hate , within a hart of flint . But weladay our Doomesday was ordaind , For when the oceans of our moane assaild her : A ruthles rocke , deaf-eared , she disdaind , We faild not to submit , but pittie faild her . Then lowlie-creeping prostrate at her feete , In these laments for mercy I intreate . Pittifull Queene ( sayd I ) vouchsafe t'assommon , The partiallest opinions of thy mind : And yet remembring thee thou art a woman , Heare thou with reason , not affection blind : Then loe my proofes to such effect shall sort , As they from thee some pittie shall extort . If vnder couert of ambitious rising , Or fond intention to suggest the King , Or by complots of mine owne lewd deuising , I had surmisd or practisd any thing , Where-through Locrinus should affect me so , Iust were my death , and iust mine ouerthrow . But happy heauens haue registred the truth , They know my cause , and they can thee assure It was not I , it was thy husbands youth That made him loue , and traind him to the lure . What should poore Captiues doo ? or what should I ? T were better loue and liue , than loath and die . My sexe was weake , my sences farre more weaker , Afflictions taught me to accept occasion : I am a poore vnwilling wedlock breaker , I was vnable to withstand inuasion : For where the Conquerer crau'd , I knew full well He could commaund , if so I should rebell . What is the Wren , to wrastle with the Gripe ? Or mine vnarmed will to resolution ? Although my beauty made affections ripe , His was the palme , and his the execution . My sufferaunce was my fault , he did exact all , He sought , he taught me first for to enact all . Then mighty Soueraigne mittigate thine ire , For why I sinn'd vnwilling and enforced : And tho an exile , let me hence retyre . But if compassion be from thee diuorced , O let me die , and true compassion take Vpon my daughter , for her fathers sake . Looke how in royall characters inchased , She beares the records of his haughty hart . Stoope princely mayde , be not so losty paced , Not what thou wert thinke thou , but what thou art . Wilt thou not stoope ? ah wretch , perhaps thou deemest The Queene will pardon , since so sweet thou seemest . Fayre-looking soule , how often did I seale Kisses vppon her cheekes , whilst thus I pleaded ? But all in vaine for pitty I appeale , Sentence of death already was arreaded ; Fast bound , to Seuerns bancke I was conducted , Readie to die , yet not to death instructed . Meane-while , my sweet Sabrina weeping hasted To Guendolen , and with her little palme Strooke on her marble-breast , by no griefe wasted , Striuing by smiles her moody wrath to calme . She kist her hand , and straight embrast her neck , As if inforcing mercie by a beck . Pardon she cry'd , oh Madam , saue my Mother . Yea Mother so I cry'd , said Sabrine tho . Oh let me now no longer sorrow smother , But by my selfe capitulate my woe : Since none are fit , or meetest to reueale it , Then those who like my selfe , doe likewise feele it . I saw the death prepared for my life , I saw the teares my Mother wept for me : I saw the wofull louer and the wife , Th' one past pitty , th' other pittying me . I pittied both , th' one , wanting remorse , Th' other , since her plaints had little force . And both of these with selfe like pittie wounded , Beheld me , whilst I dallyed for my death : I dallied with that lippe which me confounded , The lippe that gaue eiection to my breath . The lippe which through the office of the toung , Made age-pursuing death to sease on young . How much for thee sweet mother did I flatter , Pledging transparant Christall for some pittie ? I know , God knowes , God knowes , I know the matter , Will would not heare the words of wanton prettie : Both , both must dye , I mother , thou must dye , Thou must be drownd , sweet mother , so must I. As climes the auncient shaddow of the field , The Father-oake , whose rootes so deepely enter , As where the spreading boughes midst heauens doo build , The rest lyes closd in the Tartarian center : Whom fierce Vulturnus ( wonder-working blast ) Nor Southerne healthles wind can ouercast . So sat the Queene vndaunted and vntainted , Like to her selfe , an enuious minded woman : With no kind pleas , her eares would be acquainted , Away with them she cryes . Ah-las that no man Weepes now with me ; for then what creature curst not The cruell Queene , tho reprehend they durst not . Sabrine . Then you and I sweet Mother were led forth , Elstred . We were led foorth sweet daughter to our last ; Sabrine . Our words , our beauties had but little worth , Elstred . So will the heauens : that purest , soonest wast . Sabrine . I cride , help mother , help , when I was drowne● Elstred . Ah helples both , yet wanting helpe renowme● Thus cast at once into the wofull waue , That laught for to embowell natures treasures : I forst my selfe , my Sabrine for to saue , But death no time , no age , no reason measures . Helpe mother when thou crydst , I came vnto thee , And then I died , when drowning did vndoe thee , Both dyed at once : the Annals of mishap , Wherein woe-tempted men may read theyr fortune : Since all are subiect to the selfe like trap , And selfe like death may sweetest soules importune . Sabrine . I thus we dyed , yet not with selfe like same , For floting Seuerne loues Sabrinaes name . So may he prattle still vnto his waue , Sabrinaes name , whilst brine salt teares sea weepeth : And if the Gods or men compassion haue , Compassion that with tender hearts nere sleepeth , We both shall liue . This said , both sought their Tomb● Within the waues , and suncke vnto the bottome . The Water-Nimphes with their vnkembed tresses , The byrds that saw the Water-Nimphes assembled The fishes that were fedde by their distresses , The stoods with all of these , together trembled : And I gotte home and weepingly thus pend it , Carelesse of those that scorne and cannot mend it . FINIS .

Notes, typically marginal, from the original text

Notes for div A06170-e13660