Dauisons poems, or, A poeticall rapsodie Deuided into sixe bookes. The first, contayning poems and deuises. The second, sonets and canzonets. The third, pastoralls and elegies. The fourth, madrigalls and odes. The fift, epigrams and epitaphs. The sixt, epistles, and epithalamions. For variety and pleasure, the like neuer published. Poetical rapsody Davison, Francis, 1575?-1619? This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A19946 of text S109387 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 6376). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 373 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 144 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A19946 STC 6376 ESTC S109387 99845035 99845035 9910 2240886501

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A19946) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 9910) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1233:20) Dauisons poems, or, A poeticall rapsodie Deuided into sixe bookes. The first, contayning poems and deuises. The second, sonets and canzonets. The third, pastoralls and elegies. The fourth, madrigalls and odes. The fift, epigrams and epitaphs. The sixt, epistles, and epithalamions. For variety and pleasure, the like neuer published. Poetical rapsody Davison, Francis, 1575?-1619? This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A19946 of text S109387 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 6376). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread [14], 272 p. Printed by B[ernard] A[lsop] for Roger Iackson, London : 1621. Includes poems by numerous other authors. Originally published in 1602 as: A poetical rapsody. Printer's name from STC. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. eng eebo Dauisons poems, or, A poeticall rapsodie. Deuided into sixe bookes. The first, contayning poems and deuises. The second, sonets and canzonets. The thi Davison, Francis, 1621 288 58827 86 0 0 0 0 0 14.62 C The rate of 14.62 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2010-12 Assigned for keying and markup 2010-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2011-02 Sampled and proofread 2011-02 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2011-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

DAVISONS POEMS , OR , A Poeticall Rapsodie .

Deuided into sixe Bookes .

The first , contayning Poems and Deuises . The second , Sonets and Canzonets . The third , Pastoralls and Elegies . The fourth , Madrigalls and Odes . The fift , Epigrams and Epitaphs . The sixt , Epistles , and Epithalamions .

For variety and pleasure , the like neuer published .

The Bee and Spider by a diuers power , Sucke hony and poyson from the selfesame flower .

The fourth Impression , Newly corrected and augmented , and put into a forme more pleasing to the Reader .

LONDON , Printed by B. A. for Roger Iackson , 1621.

To the most Noble , Honourable , and worthy Lord , William Earle of Pembrok , Lord Herbert of Cardiffe , Marmion , and Saint Quintine , Lord Chamberlaine of his Maiesties houshold , one of his Maiesties most Honorable Priuie Counsell and Knight of the most noble order of the Garter . GReat Earle , whose braue Heroike mind is higher , And nobler , then thy noble high Degree : Whose outward shape , though it most louely be Doth in faire Robes a fairer soule attire : Who rich in fading wealth , endlesse Treasure Of Vertue , Valour , Learning , richer art , Whose present greatnesse men esteeme but part Of what by line of future hope they measure , Thou worthy Son vnto a peerelesse mother , Or Nephew to great Sidney of renowne , Who hast deseru'd thy Coronet to crowne With Lawrell Crowne a Crowne excelling th' other I consecrate these Rimes to thy great Name , Which if thou like , they seeke no other fame . Fra: Dauison .
To the Reader .

BEing induced by some priuate reasons , and by the instant entreaty of special friends , to suffer some of my worthlesse Poems to bee published , I desired to make some written by my deere friends Anonym●i , and my deerer Brother , to beare them company : Both without their consent , the latter being in the low Country warres , and the rest vtterly ignorant thereof . My friends names I concealed ; mine own and my brothers , I willed the Printer to suppresse , as well as I had concealed the other , which he hauing put in without my priuity , wee must now vndergoe a sharper censure perhaps then our nameles workes should haue done , and I especially . For if their Poems be liked , the praise is due to their inuention : if mislked , the blame both by them , and all men , will be deriued vpon me , for published that which they meant to suppresse .

If thou thinke we affect fame by these kinds of writings , though I thinke them no disparagement euen to the best iudgements , yet I answer in all our behalfes , with the princely shepheard Dorus.

Our hearts do seeke another estimation .

If thou condeme Poetry in generall , and affirme that it doth intoxicate the braine , and make men vtterly vnfit , either for more serious studies , or for any actiue course of life , I only say , Iubio te stultum esse libenter . Since experience proues by examples of many , both dead and liuing , that diuers delighted , and excelling herein , being Princes or states-men , haue gouerned & counselled as wisely : being souldiers , haue commanded armies as fortunately ; being Lawyers , haue pleaded as iuditially and elequently : being Diuines , haue written and taught as profoundly , and being of any other profession , haue discharged it as sufficiently as any other men whatsoeuer . If liking other kinds , thou mislike the Lyricall , because the chiefest subiect thereof is Loue ; I reply , that loue being vertuously intended , and worthily placed , is the whetstone of wit and spur to all generous actions : and many excellent spirits with great fame of wit , and no staine of iudgement , haue written excellently in this kind , & specially the euer praise-worthy Sidney : So as if thou wilt needs make a fault , for mine own part Haud timeo , si iam nequeo defendere crimen Cum tanto commune viro .

If any except against the mixing ( both at the beginning and end of this booke ) of diuers things written by great and learned Personages , without meane and worthlesse scriblings , I vterly disclaime it , as being done by the Printer , either to grace the forefront with sir Philip Sidneys , and others names , or to make the booke grow to a competent volume .

For these Poems in particular , I could alledge these excuses , that those vnder the name of Anonymus were written ( as appeareth by diuers things to sir Philip Sidney liuing , and of him dead ) almost twenty yeares since , when Poetry was farre from that perfection , to which it hath now attained ; that my brother is by profession a Souldier , and was not 18. yeares old when he writ these toyes : that mine owne were made most of them 6. or 7. yeeres since , at idle time : as I iournied vp and down during my trauails . But to leaue their works to iustifie themselues , or the Authors to iustifie their works , & to speak of mine own ; thy mislikes I contemne , thy praises ( which I neuer deserue , nor expect ) I esteeme not , as hoping God willing , ere long , to regaine thy good opinion , if lost ; or more deseruedly to continue it , if already obtained , by some grauer worke , Farewell .

Fra. Dauison .
An Alphabeticall Table of all the Canzonets , Dialogues , Deuises , Eglogues , Elegies , Epigrams , Epitaphs , Epistles , Epithalmions , Madrigalls , Odes , Pastoralls , Poems , Sonets , and other principall matters contayned in this booke . A A Contention betwixt a Wife a Widow , & a Maid . 5 A fiction how Cupid made a Nymph wound her selfe . 15 A liuing death 132 Absence . 212 Absence and time , 253 Affection 29 , 219 A●ax who kild himselfe 48 Allegory of his loue to a ship . 111 Allusion to Thesius voyage against the Minataure . 90 Antereons Odes 248 An answere to what loue is . 211 An inuectiue against loue . 107 Anotomy of loue 147 Astreas praise with silence 156 Allusion to the confusion of Babel . 209 B Batcheler . 3 Beauty causeth loue 77 Beggers life praised . 136 B●●ides his torments 109 Blankes 46 , 47 Bodkin 46 Bracelets 46 Breake heauy heart 129 Brutus his inhabiting this I le. 25 C Cato Vtican who slew himself , 49 Chaine 45 Christian Stoick 103 Clitemnestra to Orestes 47 Commendation of beauty . 226 Commendation of Verse . 69 Comparison between the strength of beasts 249 Comparison of loue between Beggers and Kings . 136 Comparison to a candle flye . 211 Comparison with perfect loue . 134 Complaint of loue very wittily . 17 Contention of loue & reason . 73 Contrarieties of loue . 1●7 Corinaes singing . 143 Country Gentlemen . 3 courtier 1 Courtiers rule . 259 Coife and Crascloth 45 Cra●●bo the louz●e shifter 260 Cuckolds Epigram Cuddies Embleme 103 Cuddies Pastorall . 175 Eglogue 175 Cupid made a Nymph to wound her selfe 15 Cupids marriage with dissimulation . 240 Cupid proued a Fencer . 210 Cupid shoots light , but wounds sore . 21 Cushinet 46 Cinthia queene of fortune 254 Canzonets The lye giuen to sundry sorts and degrees 100 The christian Stoick 103 Vpon seeing his face in her eyes 104 A Dialogue betweene his flaming heart , & her frozen brest . 104 He will esteeme of her as she is to him 105 An inscription for the Statute of Dido . 106 Loues Hyperboles 106 An inuectiue against loue 107 Petrarcks sonnet translated 108 He prooues himself to endure the tortures of Tantalus 109 Loues discomodities . 110 Execration of his passed loue 112 Of the Sunne , A Iewell being a Sun-shining , &c. 113 To his mistresse eyes 114 His hart araigned of theft &c 115 Deadly sweetenesse 116 Ladies eyes fed Cupid for darts & fire 116 Loues contrarieties 117 Her outward gesture deceiued his inward hope 118 That he is vnchangeable . 119 Vpon her absence . 120 The louers absence kils me her presence , &c. 121 Faire face , and hard heart . 123 An Inuectiue against loue . 124 Vpon his Ladies buying strings for her Lure 125 Car● wil not let him liue , nor hope dye . 126 In praise of the Sunne 127 Death in loue 128 Breake heauy heart . 129 Desires gouernment 130 Loues properties 1●1 Liuing death 132 The passionate Prisoner 132 Hopelesse desires soone withers & dies 233 Naturall comparisons with perfect loue 134 Loue is not like ; in beggers and in Kings . 134 To time 137 A hymn in praise of Neptune 140 An hymne in praise of Musick 138 An hymn in praise of his Mistresse face 141 Vpon her palenesse . 142 Vpon his Ladies sicknesse of the Poxe 143 Of Corin●es singing 143 In the grace of wit , tong , and face 144 An inuectiue against women 145 Of loue gift 146 The anotomy of loue 147 Loue the only price of loue 148 D Death in loue 128 Description of loue 23 Desire of hope 133. 134 Desire hath conquered reuenge 86 Desires gouernement 130 Dialogues Between a louer and his Lady 57 Between a Louer and Cupid 189 Betweene a louer , death , and Cupid 190 Betweene a louers flaming heart , and his Ladies frozen brest . 104 Betweene the louer and his heart . 50. 129 Betweene the soule and the Body 56 In praise of Astraea 156 Didoes inscription 106 Disdaine at variance with desire 239 Disdaines Altar & sacrifice 55 Dispraise of a courtly life 152 Dispraise of louers folly 242 Deuine 1 Dozen of points 44 Diall 46 Deuises . A Lottery before Queene Elizabeth . 42 Inscriptions of Thesbe , Orestes , Aiax , Romulus , Fabritius , Curio , and Cato Vtican 47 to 50 Of the lightnesse of a Woman , 50 A Dialogue betweene the louer & his heart . 50 A Dialogue betweene a louer , death , and loue 51 Phaleuciacks 52 Phaleuciacks 53 Phaleuciacks 54 An altar and sacrifice to disdaine 55 Vpon beginning without making an end 56 A Dialogue betweene the soule & the body 56 Saphicks vpon the Passion of Christ 57 A Dialogue betweene the Louer and his Lady . 57 Of mans fall in Adam , and restoring by Christ 59 Elegies . He renounceth his foode and former delight 196 For what cause he obtaines his Ladies fauour 197 To his Lady who vowed Virginity 199 Her Praise is in her want . 202 Of a womans heart 202 Loues Embassie , &c 203 Eglogues Eglogue intituled Cuddy 175 Eglogue concerning old age 192 Epigrams Ad Alian 255 In Herm 256 De Mannella 256 De Milone 256 De Codro 257 Ad quintum 257 To poore Schollers 257 In Cinnam 258 To his friends 258 De Philone 258 Ad Pessimos coniuges . 259 A rule for courtiers 259 On a painted Courtizan : 259 In Aulam 259 For a looking glasse 260 On a limping Cuckold 260 On Crambo a lowzie shifter 260 In Asinium . 260 In Quintum ! In Sabam . 261 In Aulum . 261 Epitaphs An Epitaph on King Henry the 3 King of France . 265 An Epitaph on King Henry the 4 King of France . 265 An Epitaph on Queene Elizabeth 266 Epistles Sundry Epistles or letters in verse 662 F Fabritius Curio his Vertues . 49 Face 141 , 145 Faire face and hard heart 123 Falling band 45 Fanne 46 Fortunes Wheeles 43 G Garden 21 Garters 45 Girdle 44 Glasse 144 Gloues 44 Gift 146 H Hand 110 Handkerchiefe 44 Hexameters to Sir Philip Sidney 262 Horace imitated . 20 Hearts captiuity 93 Hymnes . In praise of Musick 138 In praise of Neptune 140 An hymne in praise of his mistresse face 141 I Of Aiax who kild himselfe 48 Of Cato Vtican who slew himself . 49 Of Climennestra and her sonne Orestes 49 Of Dido 106 Of Fabritius curio 49 Of Romulus who was nursed by a she Wolfe . 48 Of Thesbie . 47 Inuectiue against loue 107. 124 Inuectiue against women . 145 Inuerted rimes of loue 158 Ixion his torments 20● K Kisse begged 208 Kisse receiued 209 King Henries Epitaph 265 Kniues 44 L Lace 4 Lawyer . 2 Lenuoy in riming 53 Loue makes a man a Poet 84 Lottery presented before Queene Elizabeth 42 Lots 44 Loue enters by fame . 87 Loue like childrens Physicke 87 Loue punishable with loue 71 Louers knot . 216 Loue the only price of loue 148 Louers complaint 136 Loues contention 73 Loues contrarieties 117 Loues description . 123 Loues discommodities 110 Loues dispraise and folly 242 Loue verball ●14 Loues naturall comparisons 134 Loues properties 131 Loues Embasie . 203 Lye 100 M Maid 45 Married man 3 Marriners song & speech . 42 Maske 44. 66 Meditations on the frailty of mans life 27 Marchant 3 Madrigals . He must loue her if he loue his life 205 That all happines is deriued from her 205 Vpon her dreaming that she saw him dead 206 Vpon his departure 206 To Cupid . 207 Vpon his Mistresse sicknesse , and his owne health . 208 He begs a kisse 208 Vpon a kisse receiued . 209 Allusion to the confusion of Babel 209 To her hand vpon giuing him her gloue . 210 Cupid proued a Fencer . 210 He compares himself to a candle-flye . 211 Answer to the question what loue is 211 Vpon his timerous silence in her presence 212 Vpon her long absence 212 Vpon her hiding her face from him . 213 Vpon her heauty and inconstancy 213 In praise of her eyes 214 Verball loue 214 In praise of two . 215 To his ladies garden being absent far from her . 215 The true loues knot . 216 In praise of his loue . 217 N Necklace . 46 Neptun●s praise 140 Nutmeg 46 O That only her beauty and voyce pleaseth him . 218 Vpon her protestation of kind affection . 219 His restlesse estate 220 His farewell to his mistresse . 223 A Prosopopaeia wherein his heart &c. 224 Vpon her giuing him backe the paper , &c. 225 Commendation of her beauty , stature , &c 226 That each creature hath his abiding 227 His Lady to be condemned &c 228 A Dialogue betweene him and his heart . 229 Wherein his Lady keepes his heart 231 The more fauour he obtaines , the more he desires 232 Desire and hope 233 Vpon visiting his Lady by moon-light 234 The kind louers complaint 236 Vnhappy eyes . 238 Disdaine at variance with desire 239 Cupids marriage with dissimulation . 240 Dispraise of Loue , and louers follyes . 242 To his Muse . 243 To his heart . 244 A defiance of disdainefull loue . 146 The tombe of dead desire 247 Three Odes translated out of Anacreon 148 A comparison betwixt the strength of beasts , the wisedome of Man , and the beauty of a womans heart 249 Anacreons second Ode 251 Anacreons third Ode 252 That time and absence proues ra-rather helps than hurts to loues . 253 Of Cinthia . 254 P Petrarck● sonet , Pace non trouo , &c. 108 Physitian 2 Poxs 143 Poesie of a Ring 44 Prayer book 45 Praise of a Beggers life 136 Praise of her eyes 73 Praise of Musicke 138 Praise of Sir Philip Sidney . 262 Praise of the two countesses , of Cumberland and Warwick 98 Purse 43 Twelue wonders of the world . 1 Cupid makes a Nimph wound her selfe . 15 A complaint of which al the staues end with the words of the first 17 A dialogue in imitation of Horace 20 Cupid shoots light , but wounds sore . 21. 22 A true description of loue 23 Of the first inhabiting this I le by Brute , &c 25 A Meditation on the frailty of this life 27 A Poesie to proue affection is not loue 29 A Louers request if hee hold his peace 30 A complaint for Iustice flight 30 A Poem in the nature of an Epitaph 31 Loues contentment 32 A Repentant Poem 34 Vnions Iewell 35 A Panegyricke to the King . 38 Q Quatraine 105 R Repentant Poem 34 Reporting Sonet of praise 72 Ring plaine 44 Rings poesie 44 Roundelay very pretty in inuerted Rimes 158 S Saphicks vpon the Passion of Christ 57 Scarfe 45 Sicknesse 208 Sicknesse and recouery . 89 Sizers . Snufkin 45 Hee tells her how hee le hide his ioyes 62 Hee promiseth to loue as he is loued 63 To mistresse Diana 63 Dedication of these Rimes , &c 64 That he cannot hide or dissemble his affection 65 Vpon his absence from her 65 To Q. E. at a Maske 1594 66 To pitty 67 Vpon her acknowledging his desert 67 Her answer in the same 68 Vpon her commending his verses 69 To a worthy Lord , now dead , 70 He demands pardon for louing 70 Loue punishable 71 He calls his eares , 72 Praise of her eyes 73 Contention of loue 73 That she hath great power ouer his life , &c. 74 Of his Ladies weeping 75 He paints out his torment 75 His sight & teares are bootles 76 Her beauty makes him liue euen in despaire 77 Why her lips yeelds him no comfort 77 Comparison of his heart , &c 80 That he cannot leaue to loue , &c 81 He desires leaue to write , &c 81 That time hath no power to end his loue 82 Of the Moone , &c 83 That loue only made him a Poet. 84 Desire hath conquered reuenge 86 To his eies for causing his pain . 86 Vpon loues entering by the eare . 87. 88 Of his own and his Mistresse sicknesse at one time 89 Another of her sicknesse and recouery . 89 Allusion to Thaesus voyage . 90 Vpon her secret looking out at a window as he past by 91 To his Mistresse , &c : 92 To the Sunne , &c. 92 Vpon sending her a Ring ; &c 93 The hearts captiuity 93 For her heart only 94 That his loue kils him with kindnesse 95 She only might cure him , &c : 96 He expresseth his great loue vnto her 96 He wisheth both their hearts euer vnited . 97 Loues seuen deadly sins 97 To two most honorable and vertuous Ladies and sisters , &c. 98 To my Lord the Prince . 99 To the Lady Elizabeth : &c. 99 T Time cannot end or diminish loue 82 The meane estate is best 152 To Pitty 67 Tongue 144 V Vnions Iewell 35 Vranias answere . 163 W Writing tables 45 Wit 144 Womens weight in Latine and English . 60 Womens hearts and vnconstancy 145
Epithalmion vpon the spousals of W.A. and I.A. He who first did institute holy wedlock , Knitting man and woman in happy bedlock , Putting on their concupisence a holy fetlock , Not to be broken : Grant O grant , ye grace to loue one another , Like a Sister , Christian , and a brother , So make the weaker of you a mother , Loues happy token .
Another of the same . Loue is foolery if it be not founded , And on heauenvly beauty chiefely grounded All deformity from the first sin runneth , Al true beauty from our God only commeth With loues puritie him then only praise ye , That by mercy he to himselfe may raise ye , Hee 's the fountaine of all true perfect beauty , And best meriteth all harts , loue , and duty , Then send vp to him al your sighs & gronings Then poure out to him all your teares and mournings , And fixe only on him your ioyes and gladnesse , For to ioy in earthly things is madnesse .
A short Contents of all the sixe Bookes contained In this volume , &c. The 1. book contayning Poems & Deuises , begins fol. 1. to folio 62. The 2 book of Sonets & Canzonets , begins folio . 62. to follio . 150. The 3. book of Pastorals & Elegies ▪ begins folio . 150. to folio . 205. The 4. book of madrigalls & Odes , begins folio 205. to folio 255. The 5. book of Epigrams & Epitaphs begins folio 255. to folio 266. The 6. book of Epistles , begins folio 266 to 272. And Epithalmions begins before follio 1.
THE FIRST BOOKE OF POEMS AND DEVISES .
I. POEM . YET OTHER TWELVE WONders of the World , by Sir Iohn Dauis . I. The Courtier . LOng haue I liu'd in Court , yet learn'd not all this while , To sel poore sutors , smoke : nor where I hate to smile : Superiors to adore , Inferiors to despise , To flye from such as fall , to follow such as rise , To cloake a poore desire , vnder a rich array , Not to aspire by vice , though t were the quicker way . II. The Diuine . My calling is Diuine , and I from God am sent , I will no chop-Church be , nor pay my patron rent , Nor yeeld to sacriledge , but like the kind true mother , Rather will loose all the child , then part it with another , Much wealth I will not seeke , nor worldly masters serue , So to grow rich & far , while my poore flock doth sterue . III. The Souldier . My occupation is , the noble trade of Kings , The tryall that decides the highest right of things : Though Mars my Master be , I doe not Venus loue , Nor honour Bacchus oft , nor often sweare by loue : Of speaking of my selfe , I all occasion shunne , And rather loue to doe , then boast what I haue done . IIII. The Lawyer . The Law my calling is , my robe , my tongue , my pen , Wealth and opinion gaine and make me Iudge of men . The knowne dishonest cause , I neuer did defend , Nor spun out sutes in length , but wisht and sought an end : Nor counsell did bewray , nor of both parties take , Nor euer tooke I fee for which I neuer spake , V. The Physition . I study to vphold the slippery state of man , Who dies , when we haue done the best and all we can . From practise and from bookes I draw my learned skill , Not from the knowne receipt of Pothecaries bill . The earth my faults doth hide , the world my cures doth see . What youth and time effects , is oft ascribde to me . VI. The Merchant . My trade doth euery thing to euery land supply , Discouer vnknowne coasts , strange Countries to ally , I neuer did forestall , I neuer did ingrosse , Nor custome did withdraw , though I return'd with losse ▪ I thriue by faire exchange , by selling and by buying , And not by Iewish vse , reprisall , fraud , or lying . VII . The Country Gentleman . Though strange outlandish spirits praise towns & country scorn The country is my home , I dwel where I was born : There profit and command with pleasure I pertake , Yet do not Haukes and dogs , my sole companions make . I rule , but not oppresse , end quarrels , not maintaine , See towns , but dwel not there t' abridge my charg or train VIII . The Bacheler . How many things as yet are deere alike to me , The field the horse , the dog , loue armes or liberty . I haue no wife as yet , whom I may call mine owne , I haue no children yet , that by my name are knowne . Yet if I married were I would not wish to thriue , If that I could not tame the veriest shrew aliue . IX . The married man . I only am the man among all married men , That do not wish the Priest to be vnlinck●agen . & thogh my shoo did wring , I wold not make my mone , Nor think my neighbors chance , more happy then mine own Yet court I not my wife , but yeeld obseruance due . Being neither fond , nor crosse , nor iealous , nor vntrue . X. The Wife . The first of all our Sex came from the side of man , I thither am returnd , from whence our Sex began , I doe not visite oft , nor many , when I doe : I tell my mind to few , and that in counsell too . I seeme not sick in health , nor sullen but in sorrow , I care for somewhat else , then what to weare to morrow , XI . The Widdow . My husband knew , how much his death would grieue me , And therefore left me wealth , to comfort and relieue me . Though I no more will haue , I must not loue disdaine , Penelope her selfe did sutors entertaine , And yet to draw on such , as are of best esteeme , Nor yonger then I am , nor richer will I seeme . XII . The Maid . I marriage would forsweare , but that I heare men tell , That she that dies a maid , must leade an Ape in Hell . Therefore if fortune come , I will not mock and play , Nor driue the bargaine on , till it be driuen away . Titles and lands I like , yet rather fancy can , A man that wanteth gold , then gold that wants a man .
II. POEM . A contention betwixt a Wife , a Widdow and a Maide . Wife . WIddow well met , whither goe you to day ? Will you not to this solemne offering go ? You know it is Astreas holy day : The Saint to whom all hearts deuotion owe : Widow . Marry what else ? I purpos'd so to doe , Doe you not marke how all the wiues are fine , And how they haue sent presents ready too , To make their offering at Astreas shrine ? See then the shrine and tapers burning bright , Come friend and let vs first our selues aduance , We know our place , and if we haue our right , To all the parish we must leade the dance . But soft , what means this bold presumptuous maid To goe before without respect of vs ? Your forwardnesse ( proude maide ) must now be staide , Where learnd you to neglect your betters thus ? Maide . Elder you are , but not my betters here , This place to maids a priuiledge must giue : The Goddesse being a maid , holds maidens deare , And grants to them her owne prerogatiue . Besides , on all true virgins at their birth , Nature hath sent a crowne of excellence , That all the wiues and widdowes of the earth , Should giue them place , and doe them reuerence . Wife . If to be borne a maid be such a grace , So was I borne and grac't by nature to , But seeking more perfection to embrace I did become a wife as others doe . Widow . And if the maid and wife such honour haue , I haue beene both , and hold a third degree . Most maides are Wardes , and euery wife a slaue , I haue my liuery sued , and I am free . Maid . That is the fault that you haue maidens beene , And were not constant to continue so : The fals of Angels did increase their sinne , In that they did so pure a state forgoe . But Wife and Widdow if your wits can make , Your state and persons of more worth then mine : Aduantage to this place I will not take : I will both place and priuiledge resigne . Wife . Why marriage is an honourable state , Widow And widdowhood is a reuerend degree : Maid . But maidenhead that will admit no mate , Like maiestie it selfe must sacred be . Wife . The wife is mistresse of her family , Widow Much more the widdow , for she rules alone : Maide . But mistresse of mine owne desires am I , When you rule others wils and not your owne . Wife . Onely the wife enioyes the vertuous pleasure , Widow . The widow can abstaine from pleasures known : Maid . But th' vncorrupted maid preserues such measure , As being by pleasures wooed she cares for none . Wife . The wife is like a faire supported vine , Wid. So was the widdow , but now stands alone : For being growne strong , she needs not to incline Maide . Maids like the earth , supported are of none . Wife . The wife is as a Diamond richly set , Maid . The maide vnset doth yet more rich appeare , Widow . The widdow a Iewell in the Cabinet , Which though not worn is stil esteemd as deare . Wife . The wife doth loue , and is belou'd againe , Widow . The widdow is awakt out of that dreame , Maide . The maids white minde had neuer such a staine , No passion troubles her cleare vertues streame . Yet if I would be lou'd , lou'd would I be , Like her whose vertue in the bay is seene : Loue to wife fades with satietie , Where loue neuer enioyed is euer greene . Widow . Then what s a virgin but a fruitlesse bay ? Maide . And what s a widdow but a rose-lesse bryer ? And what are wiues , but woodbinds which decay The stately Oakes , by which themselues aspire ? And what is marriage but a tedious yoke ? Widow . And what s virginitie but sweete selfe-loue ? Wife . And what s a widdow but an axell broke ? Whose one part failing neither part can mooue ? Widow . Wiues are as birds in golden cages kept , Wife . Yet in those cages chearefully they sing : Widow . Widdowes are birds out of those cages lept , Whose ioyfull notes makes all the forrest ring . Maide . But maides are birds amidst the woods secure , Which neuer hand could touch , nor yet could take : Nor whistle could deceiue , nor baite allure , But free vnto themselues doe musicke make . Wife . The wife is as the turtle with her mate , Widow . The widdow , as the widdow doue alone : Whose truth shines most in her forsaken state , Maid . The maid a Phoenix , and is still but one . Wife . The wife 's a soule vnto her body tyed , Widow . The widdow a soule departed into blisse , Maid . The maid an Angell which was stellified , And now t 'as faire a house descended is . Wife . Wiues are faire houses kept and furnisht well , Widow . Widdowes old castles voide , but full of state : Maide . But maids are temples where the Gods do dwell , To whom alone themselues they dedicate . But marriage is a prison during life , Where one way out , but many entries be : Wife . The Nun is kept in cloyster , not the wife , Wedlocke alone doth make the virgin free , Maid . The maid is euer fresh , like morne in May , Wife . The wife with all her beames is beautified , Like to high noone the glory of the day , Widow . The widow like a milde sweet euen-tide . Wife . An office well supplide is like the wife , Widow . The widow like a gainfull office voide : Maide . But maids are like contentment in this life , Which al the world haue sought , but none enioid , Go wife to Dunmow , and demaund your flitch . Widow . Goe gentle maide , goe leade the Apes in hell . Wife . Goe widow make some younger brother rich . And then take thought and die , and all is well . Alas poore maid , that hast no help nor stay : Widow . Alas poore wife , that nothing dost possesse : Maid . Alas poore widdow , charitie doth say , Pittie the widdow and the fatherlesse . Widow . But happy widdowes haue the world at will , But happier wiues whose ioyes are euer double : Maide . But happiest maids whose hearts are calme & still , Whom feare , nor hope , nor loue , nor hate doth trouble . Wife . Euery true wife hath an indented heart , Wherein the couenants of loue are writ , Whereof her husband keepes the counterpart , And reades his comforts and his ioyes in it . Widow . But euery widdowes heart is like a booke , Where her ioyes pastimprinted doe remaine , But when her iudgements eye therein doth looke : She doth not wish they were to come againe . Maide . But the maids heart a faire white table is , Spotlesse and pure , where no impressions be , But the immortall Caracters of blisse , Which onely God doth write , and Angels see . Wife . But wiues haue children , what a ioy is this ? Widow . Widows haue children too , but maids haue none , Maid . No more haue Angels , yet they haue more blisse , Then euer yet to mortall man was knowne . Wife . The wife is like a faire manured field : Widow . The widow once was such , but now doth rest , Maid . The maide , like Paradice , vndrest , vntil'd . Beares crops of natiue vertue in her breast . Wife . Who would not dye a wife as Lucrece died ? Widow . Or liue a widdow as Penelope ? Maide . Or be a maide , and so be stellified , As all the vertues and the graces be . Wife . Wiues are warme Climates well inhabited : But maids are frozen zones where none may dwel Maide . But fairest people in the North are bred , Where Africa breeds Monsters blacke as hell . Wife . I haue my husbands honour and his place , Widow . My husbands fortunes all suruiue to me . Maid . The moone doth borrow light , you borrow grace , When maids by their owne vertues graced be . White is my colour , and no hew but this It will receiue , no tincture can it staine . Wife . My white hath tooke one colour , but it is An honourable purple dyed in graine . Widow . But it hath beene my fortune to renue My colour twice from that it was before , But now my blacke will take no other hue , And therefore now I meane to change no more . Wife . Wiues are faire Apples seru'd in golden dishes , Widow . widows good wine , which time maks better much Maide . But Maids are grapes desired by many wishes , But that they grow so high as none can touch . Wife . I haue a daughter equals you my girle , Maid . The daughter doth excell the mother then , As pearles are better then the mother of pearle , Maids loose their value , when they match with men Widow . The man with whom I matcht , his worth was such , As now I scorne a maide should be my peare , Maide . But I will scorne the man you praise so much , For maids are matchlesse , and no mate can beare Hence is it that the virgine neuer loues , Because her like she finds not any where : For likenesse euermore affection moues , Therefore the maide hath neither loue nor peere : Wife . Yet many virgins married wiues would be , Wid. And many a wife would be a widdow faine . Maide . There is no widdow but desires to see , If so she might , her maiden daies againe . Wife . There neuer was a wife that lik'd her lot : Widow . Nor widdow but was clad in mourning weeds , Maid . Doe what you will , marry , or marry not , Both this estate and that , repentance breedes . Wife . But she that this estate and that hath seene , Doth find great ods betweene the wife and girls Maide . Indeed she doth , as much as is betweene The melting haylestone , and the solid pearle . Wife . If I were Widdow , my merry dayes were past , widow . Nay , then you first become sweete pleasures guest , For mayden-head is a continuall fast , And marriage is a continuall feast . Maid . Wedlock indeed hath oft compared bin , To publike Feasts where meete a publike rout ; Where they that are without would faine go in , And they that are within would faine go out . Or to the Iewell which this vertue had , That men were mad till they might it obtaine , But when they had it they were twise as mad , Till they were dispossest of it againe . Wife . Maids cannot iudge , because they cannot tell , What comforts and what ioyes in marriage be : Maid . Yes , yes , though blessed Saints in heauen do dwell , They doe the soules in Purgatory see . widow . If euery wife do liue in Purgatory : Then sure it is , that Widdowes liue in blisse : And are translated to a state of glory , But Maids as yet haue not attain'd to this . Maid . Not Maids ? To spotlesse maids this gift is giuen , To liue in incorruption from their birth , And what is that but to inherit heauen , Euen while they dwell vpon the spotted earth ? The perfectest of all created things ; The purest gold that suffers no allay : The sweetest flower that on th' earths bosome springs , The pearle vnbord , whose price no price can pay . The Christall Glasse that will no venome hold , The mirror wherein Angels loue to looke , Dianaes bathing Fountaine cleere and cold , Beauties fresh Rose , and vertues liuing booke . Of loue and fortune both the Mistresse borne , The soueraigne spirit that will be thrall to none : The spotlesse garment that was neuer worne , The Princely Eagle that still flyes alone . She sees the world , yet her cleere thought doth take No such deepe print as to be chang'd thereby , As when we see the burning fire doth make , No such impression as doth burne the eye . Wife . No more ( sweete maid ) our strife is at an end , Cease now : I feare we shall transformed be , To chattering Pies , as they that did contend , To match the Muses in their harmony . Widow Then let vs yeeld the honour and the place , And let vs both be sutors to the maid : That since the Goddesse giues her speciall grace , By her cleere hands the offring be conuaide . Maid . Your speech I doubt hath some displeasure mou'd Yet let me haue the offring , I will see , I know she hath both wiues and widdowes lou'd , Though she would neither wife nor widdow be .
III. POEM . A Fiction how Cupid made a Nymph wound her selfe with his Arrowes . IT chan'st of late a Shepheards swaine That went to seeke a strayed sheepe , Within a thicket on the plaine , Espide a dainty Nymph asleepe . Her golden haire ore-spred her face , Her carelesse armes abroad were cast , Her Quiuer had her pillowes place , Her brest lay bare to euery blast . The shepheard stood and gaz'd his fill , Nought durst he doe , nought durst he say , When chance or else perhaps his will , Did guide the God of loue that way . The crafty Boy that sees her sleepe , Whom if she wak't he durst not see , Behinde her closely seekes to creepe , Before her nap should ended be . There come , he steales her shafts away , And puts his owne into their place , Ne dares he any longer stay , But ere she wakes , hies thence a pace . Scarce was he gone , when she awakes , And spies the shepheard standing by : Her bended bow in hast she takes , And at the simple swaine let flie . Forth flew the shaft , and pierst his heart , That to the ground he fell with paine : Yet vp againe forth with he start , And to the Nymph he ran amaine . Amaz'd to see so strange a sight , She shot , and shot , but all in vaine : The more his wounds , the more his might , Loue yeeldeth strength in midst of paine . Her angry eyes are great with teares , She blames her hands , she blames her skill , The bluntnesse of her shaft she feares , And try them on her selfe she will . Take heede sweete Nymph try not the shaft , Each little touch will prick thy heart , Alas , thou knowst not Cupids craft , Reuenge is ioy , the end is smart . Yet try she will , and prick some bare , Her hands were glou'd , and next to hand , Was that faire brest , that brest so rare , That made the shepheard sencelesse stand . That brest she prickt , and through that brest , Loue finds an entry to her heart : At feeling of this new-come guest , Lord how the gentle Nymph doth start , She runnes not now , she shootes no more , Away she throwes both shafts and bow : She seekes for that she shun'd before , She thinks the shepheards hast too slow . Though mountaines meete not , louers may , So others doe , and so do they : The God of Loue sits on a tree , And laughs that pleasant sight to see .
IIII. POEM . A complaint , of which all the staues end with the words of the first , like a Sestine . 1. YE gastly groues , that heare my wofull cryes , Whose shady leaues would helpe to ease my paine , Thou siluer streame that dost with teares lament : The cruell chance that doth with griefe increase : Ye chirping birds whose cheerelesse notes declare , That ye bewaile the woes I beare in mind , Beare witnesse how with care I do consume , And heare the cause why thus I pine away . 2 Loue is the cause that makes me pine away , And makes you heare the Eccho of my cryes Through griefes increase : And though the cause of paine Which doth enforce me still thus to lament , Proceede from loue : and though my paine increase By dayly cries which do that paine declare , And witnesse are of my afflicted mind , Yet cry I will , till crying me consume . 3 For as the fire the stubble doth consume , And as the winde doth driue the dust away : So pensiue hearts are spent with dolefull cryes , And cares distract the mind with pinching paine . But all in vaine , I do my case lament ; My sorrow doth by sobs and sighs encrease : It nought auailes my torments to declare , Since that my teares cannot her flinty mind 4 To pitty moue ; I am cast out of mind , So hath she sworne I shall in paine consume , My weary dayes , my life must wast away , Consum'd with deadly paine and restlesse cryes . So Philomele too much opprest with paine , By his misdeede that causeth her lament , Both day and night her mournefull layes encrease ; And pind , in paine her sorrowes doth declare . 5 It is some ease hid sorrowes to declare , But too small case to such a grieued mind , As by repeating cryes doth more consume , To end that which he finds at all no way , But carefull sighs mingled with ruthfull cryes , ( A simple salue to cure so great a paine ) Come then ye gastly owles , helpe me lament , With fearefull shrikes , and as your shrikes increase . 6 When as the Sunne departing doth encrease , The doubbled shadowes which as signes declare , The night drawes neere : so I to ease my mind , Here will augment my plaints ; so to consume My loathed life : and though you flye away , Soone as the day returnes and cease your cryes , Yet I vnhappy wretch opprest with paine , But day and night am forced to lament , 7 So foule a change : But while I thus lament , My griefe with teares : The more for to increase My woe ; with scoffs , my state she doth declare , To him who first , from me her wanton mind ; By gifts did win : since when I still cnnsume Ay more and more ; ne find I any way , To ease my mind : but thus with mournefull cries , I liuing dye , and dying liue in paine . 8. And now adue delight and farewell paine , Adue vaine hope ; I shall no more lament , Her fained faith which did my woes increase , And ye to whom my griefes I thus declare , Ye which haue heard the secrets of my mind , And seene my lingring life in paine consume , Adue ye woods , and waters hence away , By death I must , and cease my ruthfull cries . Ye which heare not my cries nor know my paine , Yet do my chance lament , let pitty increase : Your griefe by teares declare : To case your mind , Witnesse how I consume , and wast away .
V. POEM . Or Dialogue in Imitation of that betweene Horace and Lidia , beginning , Donec , gratus eram tibi , &c. 1. Louer . WHile thou diddest loue me , & that neck of thine , More sweet , white , soft , then roses , siluer , downe , Did were a necklace of no armes but mine , I enuide not the King of Spaine his Crowne . 2. Ladie . While of thy heart I was sole Soueraigne , And thou didst sing none but Mellinaes name , Whome for browne Cole thou dost now disdaine , I cauide not the Queene of Englands fame . 3. Louer . Though Cole be lesse faire , she is more kind , Her gracefull dancing so doth please mine eye , And through mine eares her voyce so charmes my mind , That so deare she may liue , I le willing dye . 4. Lady . Though Cripsus cannot sing my praise in verse , I loue him so for skill in Tilting showne , And gracefull managing of Coursiers fierce : That his deare life to saue , i le lose mine own . 5 Louer . What if I sue to thee againe for grace , And sing my prayses sweeter then before , If I out of my heart blot Coles face , Wilt thou loue me againe , loue him no more ? 6 Lady . Though he be fairer then the morning star , Though lighter then the floting Corke thou be And then the Irish sea more angry farre , With thee I wish to liue , and dye with thee .
VI. POEM . Cupid shoots light , but wounds sere . CVpid at length I spy thy crafty wile , Though for a time thou didst me sore beguile , When first thy shaft did wound my tender heart , It toucht me light , me thought I felt some paine : Some little prick at first d●●●ke me me smart , But yet that griefe was quickly gone againe . Full small account I made of such a sore , As now doth ranckle inward more and more . So poyson first the sinewes lightly straines , Then strayes , and after spreds through all the vaines : No otherwise , then he , that prickt with thorne , Starts at the first , and feeles no other griefe , As on whose heart so little hurt did scorne , And deigned not to seeke despis'd reliefe : At last , when rest doth after trauell come , That little prick the ioynt with paine doth numme . What may I thinke the cause of this thy craft , That at the first thou stickst not deepe thy shaft : If at the first , I had thy stroake espide , ( Alas I thought thou wouldst not dally so ) To keepe my selfe alwayes I would haue tride , At least , I thinke , I might haue cur'd my woe , Yet truth to say , I did suspect no lesse , And knew it too , at least I so did gesse . I saw , and yet would willingly be blind , I felt the sting , yet flatt'red still my mind . And now too late I know my former guilt , And seeke in vaine to heale my curelesse sore , My life , I doubt , my wealth I know is spilt , A iust reward for dallying so before : For I that would not when I might haue ease , No maruell though I cannot when I please . Clipeum post vulnera .
VII . POEM . A true description of Loue .

Paraphrastcally translated out of Petrarkes 103. Sonnet beginning . S. Amor non è , the dunque è quel ch'io sento .

IF Loue be nothing but an idle name , A vaine deuise of foolish Poets skill : A fained fire , deuoid of smoake and flame , Then what is that which me tormenteth still . If such a thing as loue indeede there be , What kind of thing , or which , or where is he ? If it be good , how causeth it such paine , How doth it breede such griefe within my brest ? If nought , how chance the griefe that I sustaine , Doth seeme so sweete amidst my great vnrest ? For sure me thinks it is a wondrous thing , That so great paine should so great pleasure bring . If with my will amidst these flames I fry , Whence come these teares ? how chance I thus complaine ? If force perforce I beare this misery , What helpe these teares that cannot ease my paine ? How can this fancy beare such sway in me , But if my selfe consent , that so it be ? And if my selfe consent , that so it be , Vniust I am thus to complaine and cry , To looke that other men should succour me , Since by my fault I feele such misery . Who will not helpe himself when wel he can , Deserues small helpe of any other man . Thus am I tost vpon the troublous seas . By sundry winds , whose blasts blow sundry wayes , And euery blast still driuing where it please , Brings hope and feare to end my lingring daies , The steers man gone , saile , helme , & tackle lost , How can I hope to gaine the wished coast ? Wisedome and folly is the lucklosse fraught My ship therewith ballast vnequally : Wisedome too light , folly of too great waight , My Barke and I , through them in ieopardy : Thus in the midst of this perplexity , I wish for death , and yet am loth to dye .
VII . POEM . Vpon an Heroicall Poem which he had begun ( in Imitation of Virgil , ) of the first inhabiting this famous I le by Brute , and the Troyians . MY wanton Muse that whilome wont to sing , Faire Beauties praise and Venus sweete delight , Of late had chang'd the tenor of her string , To higher tunes then serue for Cupids fight Shrill Trumpets sound , sharp swords & 〈◊〉 ●●●ong , Warre , bloud , and death , were matter 〈◊〉 ●●ng . The God of loue by chance had heard thereof , That I was prou'd a rebell to his crowne , Fit words for warre , quoth he , with angry scoffe , A likely man to write of Mars his frowne , Well are they sped whose prayses he will write , Whose wanton Pen can nought but loue indite . This saide , he whiskt his party-colour'd wings , And downe to earth he comes more swift then thought , Then to my heart in angry hast he flings , To see what change these newes of warres had wrought : He pries , and lookes , he ransacks eu'ry vaine , Yet finds he nought , saue loue , and louers paine . Then I that now perceiu'd his needlesse feare , With heauy smile began to plead my cause : In vaine ( quoth I ) this endlesse griefe I beare , In vaine I striue to keepe thy grieuous lawes , If after proofe , so often trusty found , Vniust suspect condemne me as vnsound . Is this the guerdon of my faithfull heart ? Is this the hope on which my life is staid ? Is this the ease of neuer-ceasing smart ? Is this the price that for my paines is paid ? Yet better serue fierce Mars in bloudy field , Where death , or conquest , end or ioy doth yeeld . Long haue I seru'd , what is my pay but paine ? Oft haue I sude , what gaine I but delay ? My faithfull loue is quited with disdaine , My griefe a game , my pen is made a play . Yea loue that doth in other fauour find , In me is counted madnesse out of kind . And last of all , but grieuous most of all , Thy selfe sweete loue , hath kild me with suspect : Could loue beleeue , that I from loue would fall ? Is warre of force to make me loue neglect : No , Cupid knowes , my minde is faster set , Then that by warre I should my loue forget . My muse indeed to warre inclines her mind . The famous acts of worthy Brute to write : To whom the Gods this Ilands rule assignde , Which long he sought by Seas through Neptunes spight , With such conceits my busie head doth swell , But in my heart nought else but loue doth dwell . And in this war thy part is not the least , Here shall my Muse Brutes noble Loue declare : Here shalt thou see thy double loue increast , Of fairest twins that euer Lady bare : Let Mars triumph in armour shining bright , His conquerd armes shall be thy tryumphs light . As he the world , so thou shalt him subdue , And I thy glory through the world will ring , So by my paines , thou wilt vouchsafe to rue , And kill despaire . With that he whisk't his wing , And bad me write , and promist wished rest , But sore I feare false hope will be the best .
IX . POEM . Or a Meditation vpon the frailty of this life . O Trifling toyes that tosse the braines , While loathsome life doth last ! O wished wealth , O sugred ioyes , O life when death is past : Who loaths exchange of losse with gaine ? Yet loath we death as hell . What wofull wight would wish his woe ? Yet wish we here to dwell . O fancy fraile that feeds on earth , And stayes on slipp'ry ioyes : O noble minde , O happy man , That can contemne such toyes . Such toyes as neither perfect are , And cannot long endure , Our greatest skill , our sweetest ioy , Vncertaine and vnsure : For life is short , and learning long , All pleasure mixt with woe . Sicknesse and sleepe , steale time vnseene , And ioyes doe come and goe . Thus learning is but learn'd by halfes , And ioy inioy'd no while , That serues to shew thee what thou want'st , This helps thee to beguile . But after death is perfect skill , And ioy without decay , When sinne is gone that blinds our eyes , And steales our ioyes away . No crowing Cocke shall raise vs vp , To spend the day in vaine . No weary labour shall vs driue , To goe to bed againe . But for we feele not what we want , Nor know not what we haue , We loue to keepe the bodies life , We loath the soule to saue .
X. POEM . A Poesie to proue affection is not loue . COnceit begotten by the eyes , Is quickly borne , and quickly dies : For while it seekes our hearts to haue , Meane while there reason makes his graue : For many things the eyes approue , Which yet the heart doth seldome loue . For as the seeds in spring time sowne , Die in the ground ere they be growne ; Such is conceit , whose rooting failes , As child that in the cradle quailes : Or else within the mothers wombe , Hath his beginning , and his tombe . Affection followes Fortunes wheeles : And soone is shaken from her heeles , For following beauty or estate , Her liking still is turn'd to hate . For all affections haue their change , And fancie onely loues to range . Desire himselfe runs out of breath , And getting , doth but gaine his death , Desire , nor reason hath , nor rest , And blinde doth seldome chuse the best . Desire attain'd is not desire , But as the cinders of the fire . As ships in ports desir'd are drownd , As fruit once ripe , then fals to ground , As flies that seeke for flames , are brought To cinders by the flames they sought : So fond desire when it attaines , The life expires , the woe remaines . And yet some Poets faine would proue , Affection to be perfect loue , And that desire is of that kinde , No lesse a passion of the minde . As if wilde beasts and men did seeke , To like , to loue , to chuse alike ,
XI . POEM . WHen I to you of all my woes complaine , Which you make me endure without release , With scornefull smiles you answere me againe , That louers true must beare and hold their peace . Deere I will beare , and hold my peace , if you Will hold your peace , and beare what I shall do .
XII . POEM . IF wrong by force had Iustice put to flight , Yet were there hope she might returne againe , If lawlesse warre had shut her vp from sight , Yet lawfull peace might soone restore her traine . But now alas , what hope of hope is left , When wrongfull death hath her of life bereft ? The Sunne that often fals , doth often rise , The Moone that waineth , waxeth full with light : But he that death in chaines of darknesse ties , Can neuer breake the bands of lasting night . What then remaines but teares of losse to waile , In which all hope of mortall helpe doth faile ? Who then shall weepe , nay who shall teares refraine , If common harmes must moue the minds of all ? Too few are found that wrongfull hearts restraine , And of too few , too many death doth call . These common harmes I waile among the rest , But priuate losse denies to be exprest .
XIII . POEM . A P●●● in the nature of an Epitaph of a friend . IF stepdame na●ure hath beene scant , In dealing beau●ies gifts to mee : My wit shall helpe supply that want , And skill in steed of shape shall bee . My stature I confesse is small , And therefore nill I boast of warre . My name shall fill the heauens and all , This skin shall serue to hide that skarre . My head to beare the helme vnfit , My hands vnapt to murther men : But little heads oft hold much wit , And feeble hands can guide a Pen.
XIIII . POEM . Loues contentment . DEath is my doome , awarded by disdaine , A lingring death that will not let me die , This length of life is lenghtning of my paine , And length of paine gets strength of paine thereby : And strength of paine , makes paine of longer last , Ah who hath ty'de my life to paine so fast ? And yet I seeme , as if I did but faine , Or make my griefe much greater then I need , When as the care to hide my burning paine , With secret sighes , constraines my heart to bleed . Yet well I wote , beleeu'd I shall not be , Vntill by death a proofe thereof you see . But if this lodge , the witnesse of my woe , Whose stony wals vnheard my plaints containe , Had sence to feele , and tongue my paine to show , Which he inclosde , I vtter all in vaine . You soone should know that most I make my mone , Alone , if here that loues can be alone . Why should I seeke to make my shame be knowne , That foolish loue is causer of my paine : ( Forgiue me loue ) the speech is not mine owne , But so they speake that thee and thine disdaine . And I my selfe confesse my skill too small , To plead for loue , and cleere my selfe withall . What reason can my simple wit deuise , Why bootlesse griefe should thus my mind afflict ? I loue the thoughts , that loue it selfe despise , I seeke for that I neuer looke to finde . Oft haue I heard , on which I thinke I die , Thine angry tongue all kind of loue defie . Yet is my life vpon thy promise staid , By which thou hast assur'd me of thy loue , And though thereby my heare be not allaid , No stay of slight , where gaine is still aboue . Yet since thy heart can yeeld to loue no more , I rest content , although I die therefore , Quis Deus opposuit nostris sua numin votis ?
XV. POEM . A repentant Poem . THough late my heart , yet turne at last , And shape thy course another way , T is better lose thy labour past , Then follow on to sure decay . What though thou long haue straid awry , In hope of grace for mercy cry . Though weight of sinne doth presse thee downe , And keepe thee grou'ling on the ground , Though blacke dispaire , with angry frowne , Thy wit and iudgement quite confound : Though time and wit haue beene mispent , Yet grace is left if thou repent . Weepe then my heart , weepe still and still , Nay melt to floods of flowing teares , Send out such shrikes as heau'n may fill , And pierce thine angry Iudges eares , And let thy soule that harbours sin , Bleed streames of bloud to drowne it in . Then shall thine angry Iudges face , To cheerefull lookes it selfe apply , Then shall thy soule be fild with grace , And feare of death constraind to fly . Euen so my God , oh when ? how long ? I would , but sinne is too too strong . I striue to rise , sinne keepes me downe , I fly from sinne , sinne followes me , My will doth reach at glories crowne , Weake is my strength , it will not be . See how my fainting soule doth pant , O let thy strength supply my want .
XVI . POEM . Vnions Iewell . DIuers rare Iems in thee O vnion shine : First seauen Margarits in thy Iewell stand , Matildaes three , three Ianes of regall line , Two royall Maries , two Elizaes , and One Isbell , Anne , Sibill , and Margery , All royall Iems , set princely shine in thee . But first in it doth Agasia shine , Who first with Dutstus it began to make . Then Margret , next of our King Edgars line , Whom Malcolme King of Scots to wife did take . Whose grandchild Mawde our Empresse did conioyn , Scots , Saxon , Norman blood in our Kings line . For their childe Mawde , our first Henry did marry , Of them Matild our said Empresse did spring : By whose second husband our Kings did carry Name of great Plantagenet then Scots King . First Alexander did Sibilla wed , Who sprung from out William Conquerors bed . The third Matild their first King Dauid married , Earle Waldoffes daughter , Neece to great K. William : Iane our King Iohns daughter thither was caried By their second Alexander after came Their third King Alexander who did marry Another Margaret , daughter of our third Harry . From them two did another Margaret spring , Who by Norwaies Prince a fourth Margret had , Scots infant Queene : whom first Edward our King : To haue married to his Sonne , would haue beene glad . So Scotlands Peares would too : her death said nay , Which onely this great vnion then did stay . Though that most noble and victorious king , This naturall vnion could not then aduance , Another he as great t' effect did bring When he his sonne married to th' heire of France , Isbell , by whom since all our Kings haue claimed The crowne of France , which some of them haue gained . Though this our second Edward did preuent , That he from Scotland did not take his wife , His daughter Iane performed his intent With second Dauid spending there her life . He did the child of second Edward marry , As third Alexander did of our third Harry . Without issue they dyed , then Margery , Their first King Roberts daughter Bruse by name , Scots Queene by birth , must needs remembred be : By whom Lord Stewart did encrease his fame . From them second Robert , & Iames Stewart from him Third Robert nam'd , whence first Iames did begin . A valiant Prince who spent his youthfull prime , In martiall deeds , with our fift Henry in France : To whom our sixt King Henry in his time , Iane our third Edwards grandchild did aduance In marriage , she of Henry Bewford sprong , Somersets Earle was vertuous , faire and yong . Fifth Margaret Richmonds Countes forth did bring Our seuenth Henry , who one diuision ended , With Eliza , heire of our fourh Edward King : From both whom great'st Margaret of all descended : From whom & fourth Iames fift Iames Scottish king : And from him Mary Scots last Queene did spring . Fourth Iames being dead , Margret did Douglas marry , They a daughter Margret had , Earle Lyneux wife : Whose sonne Lord Darnley married their last Mary , Of whom comes Charles Iames finisher of strife . Who with Anne makes vnion by the childlesse death , Of our Queenes Mary , and Elizabeth . The rarest pearles , and richest Margarits all , Which euer did in any Iewell stand : The rarest Iewell too , and most Angelicall , Almost made vp by God and Natures hand , By men to be finisht , to this Isle sent , Then to be worne for her best ornament .
XVII . POEM . Or Panegyricke to my Soueraigne Lord the King . GReat King , since first this I le by Ioues owne hand , Was set apart within great Oceans armes , And was appointed by her selfe to stand , Fenc't round about with rockes from forren harmes : She into sundry parts hath oft beene torne , And greatest wounds by her owne blowes hath borne . But all the fractions now which man did make , Since it in one whole number nature gaue , Are added vp , and brought to one great stake , And being all sum'de vp , one totall haue . For Brittaine now to all the diuidend , In one whole quotient all doth comprehend . For thou the Monarch of this westerne I le , Now all her shiuered parts hast brought together : Spreading thy Empires wings eight hundred mile In length , and foure in breadth , there staying neither . But ore old Oceans breast thy arme doth stretch Through Ireland , making it to India reach . To Iuda thou the Tribes hast brought againe , Which by themselues did in Samaria dwell : Iordane by thee whose streame did runne amaine , Is now dride vp , that euery Tribe may well To other go : thou hast broke downe the wall , Which Adrian made , and which we Picticke call . Thou vertues Orbe where Fame is still ascendent , And neuer can her highest auge attaine , Conqueror of all hearts , all flattries transcendent , Who hold'st it losse to take , to giue great gaine . Of bountious deeds the euer-running spring , To many wealth , to all dost gladnesse bring . The Muses dearling , who with golden Pen , And silu'red tongue thy princely mind canst tell , In whom learning , a Princes richest Iemme , Both humane , and diuine abounding dwell . The great contriuer of this triple I le , To one Imperiall Diadem and stile . The royall product of the princely Doue , Which Englands Noah from peaces Arke sent forth , After warres deluge , who Oliue branch of loue , Dost bring with thee in thy returne from North : How ioyfully did Brittaine reach her hand . To take thee in t' the Arke of this her land ? With great Eliza glory of her owne , Wonder of future times , true Churches nurse , The ancient faiths reuiuer , on whom were shewne , Heauens blessings , all mens prayers , no mans curse . Fortunes fauours , natures wealth Gods high grace , The Muses lodge , all vertues dwelling place . Our Sunne did set with great Elizabeth , Before night thou a new day-light didst bring , Our summers peace did close at her cold death , Without warres winter thou renewd'st our spring , All our liues ioyes with her dead seem'd to be , Before intombde they were reuiude by thee . Center of royall births , in whom do meete , Lines drawne from all the noble Conquerors blood , Which euer in any part with warlike feete , Of this great Iles circumference haue stood , With thy faire Queene , a sea whither do runne , Streames of all royall blood of Christendome . Both royall plants whence princely branches spring , Whereon grow our best fruits of hope and ioy , Great off-springs both , of many a Noble King , An antidote sh' against this lands annoy . In whose milde lookes hath princely maiestie , A marriage made with modest courtesie . She vertues booke bound in a golden couer , Wherein nature hath writ with Gods owne quill , All beauties learning , where thou her true louer , Maist reade sweete lectures of delight at will . And on the frame of whose diuinest feature , All graces shine that can be in a creature . Sprung of a double , knit to a triple King , Late quadruple , the holy number , Three , Gratefull to God did seeme more apt to bring , Peace to this Land with loue and vnity . Plant royall , set by Iuno in this land , Whose ancestors by Mars heere once did stand . Sacred beauty makes seeme angelicall , Thee heauenly wisedome to the starrs do raise , Minerua her , Apollo thee do call Their dearlings , both truest theames of all our praise . Together liue and loue , and long do raigne , To our , to your , to Gods , ioy , blisse and gaine .
Heere endeth the Poems .
I. DEVICE . A Lottery presented before the late Queenes Maiesty at the Lord Chancelors house . 1601.

A Marriner with a Boxe vnder his arme , contayning all the seuerall things following supposed to come from the Carrick came into the Presence singing this Song .

CYnthia Queene of Seas and Lands , That fortune euery where commands , Sent forth fortune to the Sea , To try her fortune euery way . There did I fortune meet , which makes me now to sing , There is no fishing to the Sea , nor seruice to the King . All the Nymphs of Thetis traine , Did Cinthias fortunes entertaine : Many a Iewell , many a Iem , Was to her fortune brought by them . Her fortune sped so well , as makes me now to sing , There is no fishing to the Sea , nor seruice to the King . Fortune that it might be seene , That she did serue a royall Queene , A franke and royall hand did beare , And cast her fauors euery where . Some toyes fell to my share , which makes me now to sing There is no fishing to the Sea nor seruice to the King .

And the Song ended , he vttred this short speech .

GGd saue you faire Ladies all : and for my part , if euer I be brought to answere my sinnes , God for giue my sharking , and lay vsury to my charge . I am a Marriner , and am now come from ihe sea , where I had the fortune to light vpon these few tristes . I must confesse I came but lightly by them , but I no sooner had them , but I made a vow , that as they came to my hands by Fortune , so I would not part with them but by Fortune . To that end I euer since carried these Lots about me , that if I met with fit company I might deuide my booty among them . And now ( I thanke my good Fortunes ) I am lighted into the best company of the world , a company of the fairest Ladyes that euer I saw . Come Ladies try your fortunes , and if any light vpon an vnfortunate Blanke , let her thinke that Fortune doth but mock her in these tristes , and meanes to pleasure her in greater matters .
The Lots . 1 Fortunes Wheele . FOrtune must now no more on triumph ride , The wheeles are yours that did her Chariots guide . 2 A Purse . You thriue , or would or may , your Lots a Purse , Fill it with gold , and you are nere the worse . 3 A Maske . Want you a Maske , heere Fortune giues you one , Yet nature giues the Rose and Lilly none . 4 A looking glasse . Blinde Fortune doth not see how faire you be , But giues a glasse that you your selfe may see . 5 A Hankerchiefe . Whether you seeme to weepe , or weepe indeed , This Hand-kerchiefe will stand you well in steed . 6 A plaine Ring . Fortune doth lend you , hap it well or ill , This plaine gold Ring , to wed you to your will . 7 A Ring with this Poesie . As faithfull as I find . Your hand by Fortune on this Ring doth light , And yet the words do hit your humour right . 8 A paire of Gloues . Fortune these Gloues to you in challenge sends , For that you loue not fooles that are her friends . 9 A dozen of Points . You are in euery point a louer true , And therefore Fortune giues the points to you . 10. A Lace . Giue her the Lace that loues to be straightlac'd , So Fortunes little gift , is aptly plac'd . 11 A paire of Kniues . Fortune doth giue these paire of Kniues to you , To cut the thred of loue if 't be not true . 12 A Girdle . By Fortunes Girdle you may happy be , But they that are lesse happy are more free . 13 A payre of writing Tables . These Tables may containe your thoughts in part , But write not all , that s written in your heart . 14 A payre of Garters . Though you haue Fortunes Garters . you must be , More staid and constant in your steps then she . 15 A Coife and Crosse cloth . Frowne in good earnest , or be sick in iest , This Coife and Crosse-Cloth will become you best . 16 A Scarfe . Take you this Scarfe , bind Cupid hand and foote , So loue must aske you leaue before hee shoote . 17 A Falling Band. Fortune would make you rise , yet guides your hand , From other Lots to take the falling band . 18. A Stomacher . This Stomacher is full of windowes wrought , Yet none through them can see into your thought . 19 A paire of Sizzers . These Sizzers do your huswifery bewray , You loue to worke , though you are borne to play . 20. A Chaine . Because you scorne loues Captiue to remaine , Fortune hath sworne to leade you in a Chaine . 21 Prayer Booke . Your Fortune may prooue good another day , Till Fortune come , take you a booke to pray . 22. A Snuftkin . T is Summer yet , a Snuftkin is your Lot , But t' will be winter one day , doubt you not . 23. A Fanne . You loue to see , and yet to be vnseene , Take you this Fanne to be your beauties skreene . 24. A paire of Bracelets . Lady your hands are fallen into a snare , For Cupids manicles these Bracelets are . 25 A Bodkin . Euen with this Bodkin you may liue vnharmed , Your beauty is with vertue so well armed . 26 A Necklace . Fortune giues your faire neck this lace to weare , God grant a heauier yoke it neuer beare . 27. A Cushinet . To her that little cares what Let she wins , Chance giues a little Cushinet to stick pinnes . 28. A Dyall . The Dyal's yours , watch time least it be lost , Yet they must lose it that doth watch it most . 29 A Nutmeg with a blanke Parchment in it . This Nutmeg holds a Blanke , but chance doth hide it : Write your owne wish and Fortune will prouide it . 30 Blanke . Wot you not why Fortune giues you no prize , Good faith she saw you not she wants her eyes . 31 Blanke . You are so dainty to be pleasz'd , God wot , Chance knowes not what to giue you for a Lot . 32 Blanke . T is pitty such a hand should draw in vaine , Though it gaine nought , yet shall it pitty gaine . 33 Blanke . Nothing 's your Lot , that 's more then can be told , For nothing is more precious then gold . 34 Blanke . You faine would haue , but what you cannot tell , In giuing nothing Fortune serues you well . Sir I.D.
II. DEVICE . Inscriptions . Thesbe . YE wofull Sires , whose causelesse hate hath bred , Griefe to your selues , death to my loue and me . Let vs not be dis-ioyn'd when we are dead , Though we aliue conioyn'd could neuer bee . Though cruell starres denide vs two one bed Yet in one tombe vs two intombed see . Like as the dart was one , and one the knife That did begin our loue and end our life . Clytemnestra to her sonne Orestes , comming to kill her for murthering his father Agamemnon . HOld hold thy hand , vile sonne of viler mother . Death I deserue , but O not by thy knife . One parent to reuenge , wilt thou kil tother , And giues her death that gaue thee ( wretch thy life . Furies will plague thy murthers execrable , Stages will play thee , and all mothers curse thee . To wound this wombe or breast , how art thou able , When the one did beare thee , and the other nurse thee ? AIAX . THis sword is mine , or will Laertes sonne , Win this as he Achilles armour wonne ? This sword which you O Greeks oft bath'd haue known In Troian bloud , I le now bath in mine owne . This fearefull brest which all my enemies fierce Haue left vnpierst , now I my selfe will pierce . So men shall say , Aiax to none did yeeld , But t'Aiax selfe , and Aiax , Aiax kild . ROMVLVS . NO common wombe was fit me forth to bring , But a pure virgin Priest , child to a King . No mortall father worthy was to breede me , Nor humane milke was fierce enough to feed me , Therefore the God of war by wonder bred me , And a Shee-Wolfe by no lesse wonder fed me . In fine , the Gods because earth was too base T' entombe me dead , did me in heauen place . Fabritius Curio , who refused gold of the Samnites , and discouered to King Pyrrhus his Physition that offred to poyson him . MY famous Country values gold farre lesse , Then conquest braue of such as gold possesse . To be orecome with wealth I do not vse , And to orecome with poyson I refuse , No hand loues more then mine , to giue to many , No hart hates more then mine to take of any . With so firme steele , vertue my mind hath armed , That not by gold nor yron it can be harmed . Cato Vtican , Who slew himselfe because he would not fall into Caesars bands . CAESAR , thou hast o'recome to thy great fame Proud Germanes , valiant Gauls , and Brittons rude , Romes liberty ( but to thine eternall shame ) And her great Champion thou hast eke subdude . Yet nether shall thy triumphs with my name , Be grac't , nor sword be with my bloud imbrude . Though all the conquer'd earth do now serue thee , Cato will dye vnconquered , and free .
III. DEVICE . Quid pluma leuius ? Puluis . Quid puluere ? Ventus . Quid vento ? Mulier . Quid mul●ure , Nihil .

Translated thus .

DVst is lighter then a Feather , And the wind more light then either : But a womans fickle mind , More then a Feather , Dust , or Winde .
IIII. DEVICE . Or a Dialogue betweene the Louer and his heart . L Speake gentle heart , where is thy dwelling place , H With her whose birth the heauens themselues haue ble● L. What dost thou heere ? H. Sometimes behold her fac● And lodge sometimes within her christall brest . L. She cold thou hot , how can you then agree ? H. Not Nature now , but loue doth gouerne me . L. With her wilt thou remaine , and let me dye ? H. If I returne we both shall dye for griefe . L. If still thou stay , what shall I get thereby , H. I le moue her heart to purchase thy reliefes L. What if her heart be hard , and stop his eares ? H. I le sigh aloud , and make him soft with teares . L. If that preuaile , wilt thou returne from thence ? H. Not I alone , my heart shall come with me . L. Then will you both liue vnder my defence ? H. So long as life will let vs both agree . L. Why then despaire , goe packe thee hence away . H. I liue in hope to haue a happy day .
V. DEVICE . Or a Dialogue betweene a Louer , Death , and Loue . Louer . Come gentle death . D. Who calls ? L. one that 's opprest . D. What is thy will ? L. That thou abridge my woe , By cutting off my life . D. Cease thy request , I cannot kill thee yet . L. Alas , why so ? D. Thou want'st thy heart . L. who stole that same away ? D. Loue whom thou seru'st , entreate him if thou may . Louer . COme Cupid come . C. Who calleth me so oft ? L. Thy vassall true who thou should know by right . C. What makes thy cry so faint ? L. My voyce is soft , Quite broke and spent with crying day and night . C. What then , what 's thy request ? L. That thou restore To me my heart , and steale the same no more . And thou O death , when I possesse my heart , Dispach me then at once . D. Alas why so ? L. By promise thou art bound to end my smart . D. But if thy heart returne , then what 's thy woe ? D. That brought from frost , it neuer will desire , To rest with me that am more hot then fire .
VI. DEVICE Phaleuciacks . TIme nor place did I want , what held me tongtide ? What charmes , what magicall abused Altars ? Wherefore wish I so oft that houre vnhappy , When with freedome I might recount my torments , And plead for remedy by true lamenting . Dumbe , nay dead in a trance I stood amazed , When those lookes I beheld that late I long'd for : No speech , no memory , no life remained , Now speech prateth apace , my griese bewraying , Now bootlesse memory my plaints remembreth , Now life moueth againe , but all auailes not . Speech , life and memory die altogether , With speech , life , memory , loue only dies not .
VII . DEVICE . Phaleuciacke . HOw , or where haue I lost my life ? vnhappy ! Dead , nor liue am I neither , and yet am both . Through despaire am I dead , by hope reuiued , Weeping wake I the night from euen to morning Sighing waste I the day from morne to euening . Teares are drinke to my thirst , by teares I thirst more Sighs are meate that I eate , I hunger eating , Might I , O that I might refraine my feeding , Soone would ease to my heart by death be purchast . Life and light do I lack , when I behold not Those bright beames of her eyes , Apollo darkning : Life and light do I lose when I behold them , All as Snow by the Sun resolu'd to water . Death and life I receiue her eyes beholding , Death and life I refuse not in beholding , So that , dead or aliue I may behold them . Lenuoy in riming Phalenciacks . MVse not Lady , to reade so strange a Meeter , Strange griefe , strange remedy for ease requireth When sweete ioy did abound , I writ the sweeter , Now that weareth away , my Muse retireth . In you lies it alone to cure my sadnesse , And therewith to reuiue my heart with gladnesse .
VIII DEVICE . Phaleuciacks . WIsedom warns me to shun that once I sought for , And in time to retire my hasty footsteps . Wisedome sent from aboue , not earthly wisedome . No such thoughts can arise from earthly wisedome , Long , too long haue I slept in ease vneasie , On false worldly reliefe my trust reposing : Health and wealth in a boat , no sterne nor anker , ( Bold and blinde that I was ) to Sea be-taking : Scarce from the shore had I lancht , when all about me , Waues like hills did rise , till helpe from heauen Brought my Ship to the Port of late repentance .
IX . DEVICE . An Altar and Sacrifice to disdaine , for freeing him from loue .

concrete poem in shape of altar My Muse by thee restor'd to life , To thee Disdaine , this Alter reares , Whereon she offers causelesse strife , Self-spending sighs , and bostlesse teares . Long sutes in vaine , Hate for goodwill : Stil-dying paine , Yet liuing still . Selfe-louing pride , Looks coyly strange , Will Reasons guide , Desire of change . And last of all , Blinde Fancies fire , False beauties thral That bindes desire . All these I offer to Disdaine , By whom I liue from fancy free . With vow that if I loue againe , My life the sacrifice shall be .

Vicimus & demitum pedibus calcamus amorem .
X. DEVICE . Vpon beginning without making an end . BEgin , and halfe is done , yet halfe vndone remaines , Begin that half & all is done , & thou art eas'd of pains The second halfe is all againe , new worke must be begun Thus he that still begins , doth nothing but by halues . And things halfe done , as good vndone , half oxen are but calues .
XI . DEVICE , Or a Dialogue betweene the Soule and the Body . Soule . AY my poore soule , whom bound in sinfull chaines , This wretched body keepes against my will ! Body Ay my poore body , whom for all my paines , This froward Soule causelesse condemneth still . Soule Causelesse when as thou striu'st to sin each day ? Body Causelesse when as I striue thee to obey . Soule Thou art the meanes by which I fall to sin . Body Thou art the cause that setst this meanes a worke Soule No part of thee that hath not faulty bin . Body I shew the poyson that in thee doth lurke . Soule I shall be pure when so I part from thee . Body So were I now , but that thou stainest me .
XII . DEVICE . Saphickes vpon the Passion of Christ . HAtred eternall , furious reuenging , Mercilesse raging , bloody persecuting , Scandalous speeches , odious reuilings Causelesse abhorring : Impious , scoffings by the very abiects , Dangerous threatning by the Priests annointed , Death full of torment in a shamefull order , Christ did abide here . He that in glory was aboue the Angels , Changed his glory for an earthly Carkasse , Yeelded his glory to a sinfull outcast , Glory refusing . Me that in bondage many sinnes retained , He for his goodnes , for his onely goodnesse , Brought from hell torments to the ioyes of heauen , Not to be numbred . Dead in offences , by his aide reuiued , Quickned in spirit , by the grace he yeeldeth , Sound then his praises , to the worlds amazement Thankfully singing .
XIII . DEVICE . A Dialogue betwixt the Louer and his Lady . LAdy , my flame still burning , And my consuming anguish , Doth grow so great , that life I feele to languish , Then let your heart be moued , To end my griefe and yours , so long time proued . And quench the heate that my chiefe part so fireth , Yeelding the fruit that faithfull loue requireth . Her answere . SWeete Lord , your flame still burning , And your consuming anguish Cannot be more then mine , in which I languish , Nor more your heart is moued , To end your griefe and mine , so long time proued . But if I yeeld , and so your loue decreaseth . Then I my louer lose , and your loue ceaseth . Ignoto .
A DEVISO .
De lapsu hominis in Adam . PAuper amabilis & venerabilis est benedictus , Diues inutilis , insatiabilis , est maledictus Qui bona negligit , & mala diligit , intrat abyssum . Nulla potentia , nulla pecunia liberat ipsum , Irr●meabilis , insattabilis , illa vorago , Hic vbi me●gitur , horrida cernitur omnis imago . Vir miserabilis Euaque flebilis hoc subierunt , Hic cruciamina , per sua crimina , cum meruerunt . Iussa Dei pia , iussa salubria si tenuissent , Vir neque foemina , nec sua semina , morte perissent , Sed quia spernere iussaque soluere non timuere , Mors grauis irruit , hoc merito fuit , & periere . Ianua mortis passio fortis orimen eorum , Attulit orbi semina morbi , tot que malorum . Illa parentes , atque sequentes culpa peremit , Atque piarum deliciarum munus ademit . Flebile satum dans cruciatum , dansque dolorem , Illa morenti perdere tanti regis honorem . Est data saeuam causa per Euam perditionis , Dum meliorem sperat honorem voce dracenis , Hec male credens , nos quoque laedens crimine magno , Omnia tristi subdidit isti saecula damno . Stirps miserorum plena dolorum postea creuit , His quoque damnis pluribus annis subdita fleuit . De restitutione hominis per Christum . SEd Deus omnipotens , qui verbo cuncta creauit , Sic cecidisse dolens homines quos semper amauit , Ipse suum verbum transmisit ad infima mundi , Exulibus miseris aperire viam redeundi . Filius ergo Dei descendit ab arce superna Nunquam descedens a maiestate paterna , Qui corpus sumens animatum , numine saluo Processit natus sacrae de virginis aluo . Verus homo , verusque Deus , pius & miserator , Verus saluator , nostraeque salutis amator , Sponte sua moriens mortem moriendo peremit Et sic perpetua miseros a morte redemit , Namque pia de morte resurgens , vt Leo fortis , Restituit vitam prostrato principe mortis .
Of the fall of man in Adam . THE poore man belou'd , for vertue approu'd , rignt blessed is he , Where couetous chuff who neuer hath enough , accursed shall be . Who goodnesse reiecteth , and euill affecteth , shall fall in the pit , No plenty of pence , shall free him from thence , no power nor wit . Both vnrepassable and vnsatiable , that galph will appeare , Imbog'd he shall be , where nought he shall see , but horror and feare . Adam vnstable , and Eue variable , the very first time , By falling from God , deserued this rod , ( O horrible crime , ) For had they adhered to God , and him feared , by keeping his reede , Then death had not come on , the man or the woman , or any their seede . But when as the man , from Gods will began , basely to reuolt , For his grieuous sinne , death came rushing in , and on him laid holt : This was the great crime , which at the first time , by craft of the deuill , Did bring in the seed , of sicknesse and need , and all other euill : This was the sinne , which first did begin , our parents to kill , And heauenly food , prepared for our good , did vtterly spill . Vnhappy the fate , which first such a state , such sorrow did bring , To him that had lost , so much to our cost , our heauenly King , The credulous Eue , t was she that did giue , the cause of such euill , Hoping that honor , would come more vpon her , deceiued by the deuill . Beleeuing of him , did make her to sinne , to all our great losse , For mankind e're sence , receiued from hence , an horrible crosse . For all the Nations , through all generations , which after haue beene , With griefe of their heart , haue tasted the smart of that primitiue sinne . Of the restoring of man by Christ . BVt Ioue omnipotent , all things by his word who created , Grieuing man to be falne , whose loue was in him so innated , Sent from aboue his word , for man to prepare a returning Thence , where else had he lien , through all eternity burning . So Gods onely begotten Sonne , came downe to redeeme vs , Yet did he still himselfe , his fathers glory beteeme vs . A body form'd with a soule , to his diuinity taking , And to be borne of a virgin , his humanity making . Borne very God , very man , he a man God , mercifull , holy , Purchased our saluation , was our Sauiour wholy . For by his willing death , he deaths selfe wholy defeated , And so vs all from eternall death , by death rebegetted , From death againe rising , he deaths Prince mightily maimed , Whereby his owne from death , to eternall life he regained ,
The end of the first Booke .
THE SECOND BOOKE OF Sonets and Canzonets .
I. SONET . WHen traitrous Photine , Caesar did present With his great riuals honourable head , He taught his eyes a streame of teares to shed Hiding in his false heart his true content . And Hanniball when Fortunes ballance light , Raiz'd low brought Rome and swaid proud Carthage downe , While all but he , bewail'd their yeelding town He laught to ease his swelling hearts despight . Thus cunning minds can maske with diuers art , Griefe vnder fained smiles , Ioy vnder teares , Like Hanniball I cannot hide my feares , Setting cleare lookes vpon a cloudy heart . But let me ioyes enioy , Deere you shall try , Caesar hid not his ioyes so well as I.
II. SONET . While Loue in you did liue , I onely liu'd in you , While you for me did burne , for you alone I burned , While you did sigh for me , for you I sigh and mourned , Till you prou'd false to me , to you I was most true . But since loue died in you , in you I liue no more , Your heart a Seruant new , mine a new Saint enioyeth : My sight offends your eies , mine eies your sight annoieth Since you held me in scorne , by you I set no store . Yet if dead Loue , if your late flames returne , If you lament your change , & count me your sole treasure , My loue more fresh shall spring , my flame more bright shall burne . I le loue none else but you ▪ & loue you without measure , If not ( vntrue ) farewell : in sand I le sow no graine , Nor plant my loue but where loue yeelds me loue againe .
III. SONET . To Mistresse Diana . PHoebus of all the Gods I wish to be : Not of the world to haue the ouerseeing : For of all things in the worlds circuit being One onely thing I alwaies wish to see . Not of all hearbs the hidden force to know , For ah my wound by herbes cannot be cured : Not in the Sky to haue a place assured , For my ambition lies on earth below . Not to be Prince of the Celestiall quire , For I one Nimph prize more then all the Muses : Not with his bow to offer Loue abuses , For I Loues vassall am , and dread his yre . But that thy light from mine , might borrow'd be , And faire Diana might shine vnder me .
IIII. SONET . Dedication of these Rimes to his first Loue . IF my harsh humble stile , and rimes ill dressed , Arriue not to your worth and beauty glorious , My Muses shoulders are with weight oppressed , And heau'nly beames are o're my fight victorious . If these dimme colours haue your worth expressed , Laid by louers hand , and not by Art laborious , Your Sun-like raies haue my wits haruest blessed , Enabled me to make your praise notorious . But if alas ! ( alas ! the heauens defend it , ) My lines your eies , my loue your heart displeasing , Breede hate in you , and kill my hope of easing : Say with your selfe , how can the wretch amend it ? I wondrous faire , he wondrous dearely louing , How can his thoughts but make his pen be mouing ?
V. SONET . That he cannot hide or dissemble his affection . I bend my wits , and beate my weary braine , To keepe my in ward griefe , from outward show , Alas I cannot : now t is vaine I know , To hide a fire , whose flame appeareth plaine . I force my will , my senses I constraine , T' imprison in my heart my secret woe , But musing thoughts , deepe sighes or teares that flow , Discouer what my heart hides , all in vaine . Yet blame not ( Deere ) this vndissembled passion : For well may loue , within small limits bounded , Be wisely maskt in a disguised fashion . But he , whose heart , like mine , is throughly wounded , Can neuer faine , no though he were assured , That faining might haue greater grace procured .
VI. SONET . Vpon his absence from her . THe fairest eie , ( O eies in blacknesse faire ) That euer shin'de , and the most heauenly face , The daintiest smiling , the most conquering grace , And sweetest breath that ere perfumd the ayre , Those cherry lips , whose kisse might well repaire A dead mans state that speech did displace All meane desires , and all affections base , Clogging swift hope , and winging dead despaire , That snow-white breast , and all those faultlesse features , Which made her seeme a personage diuine , And farre excelling fairest humaine creatures , Hath absence banisht from my cursed eine . But in my heart , as in a mirror cleare , All these perfections to my thoughts appeare .
VII . SONET . Vpon presenting her with the speech of Grayes-Inne Maske , at the Court , 1594. consisting of three parts . The story of Proteus transformations , the wonders of the adamantine Rocke , and a speech to her Maiestie . WHo in these lines may better claime a part , That sing the praises of the maiden Queene , Then you faire sweete , that onely Soueraigne beene , Of the poore kingdome of my faithfull heart ? Or to whose view should I this speech impart , Where th' Adamantine rocks great power is showne : But to your conq'ring eyes , whose force once knowne Makes euen yron hearts loath then to part ? Or who of Proteus sundry tranformations , May better send you the new-fained Story , Then I whose loue vnfain'd felt no mutations , Since to be yours I first receiu'd the glory ? Accept then of these lines , though meanely pend , So fit for you to take , and me to send .
VIII . SONET . To Pitie . WAke Pitie , wake , for thou hast slept too long , Within the Tygrish heart of that fierce faire , Who ruines most , where most she should repaire And where she owes most right , doth greatest wrong . Wake Pittie , wake , O do no more prolong Thy needfull helpe ! but quickly here my pray're Quickly ( alas ) for otherwise despaire By guilty death , will end my guiltlesse wrong . Sweete Pittie , wake , and tell my cruell sweete , That if my death her honour might encrease , I would lay downe my life at her proud feete , And willing dye , and dying hold my peace . And onely liue , and liuing mercy cry , Because her glory in my death will die .
IX . SONET . Vpon her acknowledging his desart , yet reiecting his affection . IF loue conioyn'd with worth and great desart , Merit like loue in euery noble mind , Why then doe I you still so cruell find ? To whom you do such praise of worth impart . And if ( my deere ) you speake not from your heart , To hainous wrongs you do together bind . To seeke with glozing words mine eies to blind , And yet with hatefull deeds my loue to thwart . To want what one deserues engrieues his paine , Because it takes away all selfe accusing : And vnder kindest words to make disdaine , Is to a vexed soule too much abusing . Then if it be false , such glosing words refraine : If true , O then let worth his worth obtaine .
X. SONET . Her answere in the same Romes . IF your fond loue want worth and great desart , Then blame your selfe that you me cruell find : If worth alone moue euery noble mind , Why to no worth should I my loue impart ? And if the lesse to grieue your wounded heart , I seeke your dazled eies with words to blind , To iust disfauour I great fauour bind , With deeds and not with words your loue to thwart : The freeing of your mind from selfe accusing , By granting your desarts should ease your paine , And since loue is your fault t' were some abusing , With bitter words t'enuenome much disdaine . Then if 't be true , all glosing I refraine , If false , why should not worth worths due obtaine .
XI . SONET . Vpon her comming ( though most vndeseruedly ) his verses to his first Loue . PRaise you those barren Rimes long since composed ? Which my great Loue ▪ her greater cruelty , My constant faith , her false vnconstancy , My praises stile , hero're prais'de worth disclosed . O , if I lou'd a scornefull Dame so deerely : If my wilde yeares did yeeld so firme affection : If her Moone-beames , short of your Suns perfection , Taught my hoarse Muse ( as you say ) to sing cleerely How much , how much should I loue and adore you , Diuinest Creature if you deign'd to loue me ? What beauty , fortune , time should euer moue me In these staid yeares to like ought else before you ? And O! how should my Muse by you inspired ? Make heauen and earth resound your praise admired . My then greene Heart so brightly did eflame .
XII . SONET . To a worthy Lord ( now dead ) vpon presenting him for a New-yeares-gift , with Caesars Commentaries and Cornelius Tacitus . WOrthily famous Lord , whose vertues rare , Set in the gold of neuer stain'd Nobility , And noble mind shining in true humility , Make you admir'd of all that vertuous are : If as your Sword with enuy imitates Great Caesars sword in all his deeds victorious , So your learn'd Pen would striue to be glorious , And write your Acts perform'd in forreine States ; Or if some one with the deepe wit inspir'd , Of matchlesse Tacitus would them historifie , Then Caesars works so much we should not glorifie , And Tacitus would be much lesse desir'd . But till your selfe , or some such put them forth , Accept of these as Pictures of your worth .
XIII . SONET . He demaunds pardon for looking , louing , and writing . LEt not ( sweete Saint ) let not these lines offend you , Nor yet the message that these lines impart : The message my vnfained Loue doth send you , Loue , which your selfe hath planted in my heart . For being charm'd by the bewitching art Of those inueagling graces which attend you , Loues holy fire makes me breath out in part , The neuer-dying flames my brest doth lend you . Then if my Lines offend , let Loue be blamed . And if my Loue displease , accuse mine Eyes : If mine Eyes sinne , their sins cause , only lies On your bright eyes , which haue my heart inflamed . Since eyes , loue , lines , erre then by your direction , Excuse mines eyes , my Lines , and my affection .
XIIII . SONET . Loue and Iustice punishable only with like loue . BVt if my lines may not be held excused , Nor yet my Loue find fauour in your Eyes , But that your eyes as Iudges shall be vsed , Euen of the fault which from themselues doth arise , Yet this my humble suite do not despise , Let me be iudged as I stand accused , If but my fault my doome do equalize , What ere it be , it shall not be refused . And since my loue already is expressed , And that I cannot stand vpon denyall , I freely put my selfe vpon my tryall , Let Iustice iudge me as I haue confessed : For if my doome in iustice scales be wayed With equall loue my loue must be repayed .
XV. SONET . He calls his eares , eyes , and heart as witnesses of her sweet voice beauty , and inward vertuous perfections . FAire is thy face , and great thy wits perfection , So faire alas , so hard to be exprest , That if my tyred Pen should neuer rest , It should not blaze thy worth , but my affection Yet let me say , the Muses make election Of your pure mind , there to erect their nest , And that your face is such a flint-hard brest , By force thereof , without force feeles subiection . Witnesse mine eare rauisht when you it heares , Witnesse mine eyes rauisht when you they see . Beauty and vertue , witnesse eyes and eares , In you ( sweete saint ) of equall soueraignty . But if nor eyes , nor eares can proue it true , Witnesse my heart , ther 's none that equalls you . How they make my poore heart at once to dwell , In fire and frost , in heauen and in hell .
XVI . SONET . Praise of her eyes excelling all comparison . I bend my wit , but wit cannot deuise , Words fit to blaze the worth , your eyes containes Whose namelesse worth , their worthles name disdains , For they in worth exeeede the name of eyes . Eyes they be not , but worlds in which there lyes , More blisse then this wide world besides containes . Worlds they be not but stars , whose influence raignes , Ouer my life and liues felicities . Stars they be not , but suns , whose presence driues , Darkenesse from night , and doth bright day impart : Suns they be not , which outward heate deriues , But these do inwardly in flame my heart . Since then in Earth , nor Heauen , they equal'd are , I must confesse they be beyond compare .
XVII . SONET . Contention of Loue and Reason for his heart . REason and loue lately at strife contended , Whose right it was to haue my minds protection Reason on his side Natures will pretended , Loues title was my Mistresse rare perfection . Of power to end this strife , each makes election , Reasons pretence discoursiue thoughts defended , But loue soone brought these thoughts into subiection By beauties troopes which on my Saint depended , Yet since to rule the mind was Reasons duty On this condition it by loue was rendred , That endlesse praise by reason should be tendred , As a due tribute to her conquering beauty . Reason was pleasde withall , and to loues royalty He pledg'd my heart , as hostage for his loyalty .
XVIII . SONET . That she hath greater power ouer his happinesse and life , then either Fortune , Fate , or Stars . LEt fate my Fortune , and my stars conspire . Ioyntly to poure on me their worst disgrace : So I be gracious , in your heauenly face , I weigh not Fates , nor Starres , nor Fortunes yre , T' is not the influence of heauens fire , Hath power to make me blessed in my race , Nor in my happinesse hath Fortune place , Nor yet can Fate my poore lifes date expire . T' is your faire eyes my Starres all blisse do giue , T' is your disdaine my Fate hath power to kill , T' is you ( my Fortune ) make me happy liue , Though Fortune , Fate , and Starres conspire mine ill . Then ( blessed Saint ) into your fauour take me , Fortune , nor Fate , nor Stars can wretched make me .
XIX . SONET . Of his Ladies weeping . WHat neede I say how it doth wound my brest , By fate to be thus rauisht from thine eyes Since your owne teares by me doth simpathize , Pleading with slow departure there to rest ? For when with flouds of teares they were opprest , Ouer those Iuory bancks they did not rise , Till others enuying their felicities , Did presse them forth , that they might there beare rest , Some of which teares , prest forth by violence Your lips with greedy kissing straight did drinke : And othersome vnwilling to part thence , Inamour'd on your cheekes in them did sinke . And some which from your face were forc'd away , In signe of loue did on your garment stay .
XX. SONET . He paints out his torment . SWeete , to my cursed life some fauour show , Or let me not ( accurst ) in life remaine : Let not my sences sence of life retaine , Since sence doth only yeeld me sence of woe , For now mine eyes only your frownes do know , Mine eares heare nothing else but your disdaine , My lips taste nought but teares , and smell is paine , Banisht your lips , where Indian Odours grow . And my deuoted heart your beauties slaue , Feeles nought but scorne , oppressions and distresse , Made eu'n of wretchednesse the wretched caue , Nay , too too wretched for vild wretchednesse . For euen sad sighs , as loathing there to rest , Struggle for passage from my griefe-swolne brest .
XXI . SONET . His sighs and teares are bootlesse . I Haue intreated , and I haue complayned , I haue disprais'd and prayse I likewise gaue , All meanes to win her grace I tryed haue , And still I loue , and still I am disdained , So long I haue my tongue and Pen constrained , To praise ▪ dispraise , complaine , and pitty craue , That now nor tongue nor Pen , to me her slaue Remaines , whereby her grace may be obtained . Yet you ( my sighs ) may purchase me reliefe , And ye ( my teares ) her rockey heart may moue : Therefore my sighs sigh in her eare my griefe , And in her heart my teares imprint my loue : But cease vaine sighs , cease : cease ye fruitlesse teares , Teares cannot pierce her heart , no sighs her cares .
XXII . SONET . Her beauty makes him liue euen in despaire . WOunded with griefe , I weep , and sigh and plaine Yet neither plaints , nor sighs , nor teares do good But all in vaine I striue against the floud , Gaining but griefe for griefe and paine for paine . Yet though in vaine my teares my cheekes distaine : Leauing ingrauen sorrow where they stood And though my sighs consuming vp my bloud , For loue deseru'd , reape vndeseru'd disdaine : And though in vaine I know I beg remorce At your remorcelesse heart more hard then steele , Yet such ( alas ) such is your beauties force , Charming my sence , that though this hell I feele , Though neither plaints , nor sighs nor tears can moue you , Yet must I still persist euer to loue you .
XXIII . SONET . Why her lips yeeld him no word of comfort . OFt do I plaine , and she my plaints doth reade , Which in black colours do paint forth my woe , So that of force she must my sorrow know : And know , for her disdaine my heart doth bleede . And knowledge must of force some pitty breede , Which makes me hope she will some fauour show , And from her sugred lips much comfort flow Into mine eares my heart with ioy to feede : Yet though she reades , and reading knowes my griefe And knowledge moues her pitty my distresse , Yet do her lips , sweete lips take no reliefe . Much do I muse , but find no cause in this , That in her lips her heauenly lips that blisse them , Her words loth thence to part , stay there to kisse them .
XXIIII . SONET . Comparison of his heart to a tempest beaten Ship . LIke a Sea tossed Barke with tackling spent , And stars obscur'd his watry iournies guide , By loud tempestuous winds and raging tide , From waue to waue with dreadfull fury sent , Fares my poore heart , my heart-strings being rent , And quite disabled your fierce wrath to bide , Since your faire eyes my stars themselues do hide , Clowding their light in frownes and discontent : For from your frownes do spring my sighs and teares , Teares flow like seas , and sighs like winds do blow Whose ioyned rage most violently beares My tempest beaten heart from woe to woe . And if your eyes shine not that I may shun it , On rocke , despaire , my sighs , my teares will rue it .
XXV . SONET . That he cannot leaue to loue , though commanded . HOw can my loue in equity be blamed , Still to importune though it ne're obtaine , Since though her face and voyce will me refraine , Yet by her voyce and face I am inflamed ? For when ( alas ) her face with frownes is framed , To kill my loue , but to reuiue my paine : And when h●●●●●e commands , but all in vaine , That loue both leaue to be , and to be named : Her Syren voyce doth such inchantment moue , And though she frowne , eu'n frownes so louely make her , That I of force am forced still to loue . Since that I must and yet cannot forsake her , My fruitlesse prayers shall cease in vaine to moue her : But my deuoted heart ne're cease to loue her .
XXVI . SONET . He desires leaue to write of his Loue , MVst my deuoted heart desist to loue her ? Not loue I may , but I may not confesse it , What harder then loue , and yet depresse it ? Loue most conceal'd , doth most it selfe discouer . Had I no Pen to shew that I approue her , Were I tongue-tide that I might not addresse it ? In plaints and prayers vnfained to expresse it , Yet could I not my deepe affection couer . Had I no Pen my very teares would shew it , Which write my true affection in my face . Were I tongue-tide , my sighs would make her know it , Which witnesse that I grieue at my disgrace . Since then , though silent , I my loue discouer , O let my pen haue leane to say I loue her !
XXVII . SONET . That time hath no power to end or diminish his loue . TIme wasteth yeeres , and months , and daies & houres Time doth consume fame , riches , wit and strength , Time kils the greenest herbes , and sweetest flowers , Time weares out youth , and beauties pride at length , Time maketh euery tree to dye and rot : Time turneth oft our pleasure into paine . Time causeth wars and wrongs to be forgot , Time cleeres the skye that first hung full of raine . Time brings to nought the mightiest Princes state , Time brings a floud from new resolued snow , Time calmes the Sea where tempests roared late , Time eares whatsoe're the Moone doth see below : Yet shall no time vpon my heart preuaile , Nor any time shall make my loue to faile .
XXVIII . SONET . Of the Monne . LOoke how the pale Queene of the silent night , Doth cause the Ocean to attend vpon her , And he as long as she is in his sight , With his full tide is ready her to honor : But when the siluer wagon of the Moone Is mounted vp so high he cannot follow , The sea cals home his christall waues to moue , And with low ebbe doth manifest his sorrow : So you that are the soueraigne of my heart , Haue all my ioyes attending on your will , My ioyes low ebbing when you doe depart , When you returne , their tide my heart doth fill So as you come , and as you doe depart Ioyes ebbe and flow within my tender heart .
Three Sonets . That loue only made him a Poet , and that all sorts of verses , both in rime and measure , agree with his Lady .
XXIX . SONET . SOme men they say , are Poets borne by kind , And sucke that science from their mothers brest , An easie art that comes with so great rest , And happy to men so good hap assign'd . In some desire of praise enflames the mind , To clime with paine Parnassus double crest : Some hope of rich rewards hath so possest , That gold in Castell sands , they seeke to find . Me , neither nature hath a Poet made , Nor loue of glory mou'd to learne the trade , Nor thirst of gold perswaded me to write : For Natures graces are too fine for me , Praise like the Peacock prides her selfe to see , Desire of gaine the basest minds delight .
XXX . SONET . WHat mou'd me then ? say loue for thou canst tell : Of thee I learn'd this skill , if skill I haue . Thou knowst the Muse , whose helpe I alwaies craue , Is none of those that on Parnassus dwell . My Muse is such as doth them all excell , They all to her alone their cunning gaue , To sing , to dance , to play , to make so braue , Thrice threefold graces her alone befell . From her do flow the streames that water me , Here is the praise if I a Poet be . Her only looke both will and skill doth giue . What maruell then if I those lawes refuse , Which other Poets in their making vse , Since by her looks I writ , by which I liue ?
XXXI . SONET . THus am I free from lawes that other binde , Who diuers verse to diuers matter frame , All kind of stiles do serue my Ladies name , What they in all the world in her I find . The lofty verse doth shew her noble mind , By which she quencheth loues inraged flame : Sweet Liricks sing her heauenly beauties fame , The tender Elege speakes her pitty kind , In mournefull Tragicke verse for her I dye , In Comicke she reuiues me with her eye . All serue my Goddesse both for mirth and mone , Each looke she casts doth breede both peace and strife , Each word she speakes doth cause both death and life , Out of my selfe I liue in her alone .
XXXII . SONET . Desire hath conquered reuenge . WRong'd by desire I yeelded to disdaine , Who call'd reuenge to worke my spite thereby , Rash was reuenge and sware , Desire should die , No price nor prayer his pardon might obtaine . Downe to my heart in rage he hasts amaine And stops each passage , least Desire should flye : Within my eares disdainefull words did lie , Proud lookes did keepe mine eyes with scornful traine Desire that earst but flickred in my brest , And wanton like now prickt now gaue me rest , For feare of death sunke deeper in my heart . There raignes he now , and there will raigne alone Desire is iealous , and giues part to none , Nor he from me , nor I from him can start .
XXXIII . SONET . To his eyes . VNhappy eyes the causer of my paine , That to my soe betraid my strongest hold Wherein he like a tyrant now doth raigne And bosts of winning that which reason sold . Too late you call for helpe to me in vaine , Whom loue hath bound in chains of massie gold The teares you shed increase my hot desire , As water on the Smithie kindles fire . The sighs that from my heart ascend , Like wind dispearst the flame throughout my brest , No part is left to harbuor quiet rest , I burne in fire and do not spend : Like him whose growing maw , The vulture still doth gnaw .
XXXIIII . SONET . Ten Sonets to Philomel . Sonet I. Vpon Loues entring by the eares . OFt did I heare our eyes the passage weare , By which Loue entred to assaile our hearts Therefore I garded them and void of feare Neglected the defence of other parts . Loue knowing this , the vsuall way forsooke : And seeking found a by-way by mine eare . At which he entring , my heart prisoner tooke , And vnto thee sweete Phylomel did beare . Yet let my heart thy heart to pittty moue , Whose paine is great , although small fault appeare First it lies bound in fettring chaines of loue , Then each day it is rackt with hope and feare . And with loues flames t is euermore consumed , Only because to loue thee it presumed .
XXXV . SONET . O Why did Fame my heart to loue betray , By telling my Deares vertue and perfection ? Why did my Traytor eares to it conuey , That Syren-song cause of my hearts infection ? Had I beene deafe , or Fame her gifts concealed , Then had my heart beene free from hopelesse Loue , Or were my state likewise by it reuealed , Well might it Philomel to pitty moue . Then should she know how loue doth make me languish Distracting me twixt hope and dreadfull feare : Then should she know my care , my plaints and anguish , All which for her deare sake I meekely beare . Yea I could quietly deaths paines abide , So that she knew that for her sake I dide
XXXVI . SONET . Of his owne , and his Mistresse sicknesse at one time . SIcknesse entending my loue to betray , Before I should sight of my deere obtaine : Did his pale colours in my face display , Lest that my fauour might her fauour gaine . Yet not content herewith , like meanes it wrought , My Philomels bright beauty to deface : And natures glory to disgrace it sought , That my conceiued loue it might displace . But my firme loue could this assault well beare , Which vertue had , not beauty for his ground . And yet bright beames of beauty did appeare , Through sicknesse vaile , which made my loue abound , If sicke ( thought I ) her beauty so excell , How matchlesse would it be if she were well .
XXXVII . SONET . Another of her sicknesse and recouery . PAle Death himselfe did loue my Philomell , When he her vertues and rare beauty saw , Therefore he sicknesse sent : which should expell , His riuals life , and my deare to him draw . But her bright beauty dazled so his eyes , That his dart life did misse , though her it hit : Yet not therewith content , new meanes he tries , To bring her vnto Death , and make life flit . But Nature soone perceiuing , that he meant To spoyle her onely Phoenix , her chiefe pride , Assembled all her force , and did preuent The greatest mischiefe that could her betide . So both our liues and loues Nature defended , For had she di'de , my loue and life had ended .
XXXVIII . SONET . Allusion to Theseus voyage to Crete , against the Minotaure . MY loue is sail'd against dislike to fight Which like vild monster , threatens his decay : The ship is hope , which by desires great might , Is swiftly borne towards the wished bay : The company which with my loue doth fare , ( Though met in one ) is a dissenting crew : They are ioy griefe , and neuer-sleeping care , And doubt which neere beleeues good newes for true : Blacke feare the flag is , which my ship doth beare , Which ( Deere ) take downe , if my loue victor be : And let white comfort in his place appeare . When loue victoriously returnes to me : Least I from rocke despaire come tumbling downe , And in a sea of teares be for'st to drowne .
XXXIX . SONET . Vpon her looking secretly out at a window as he passed by . ONce did my Philomel reflect on me , Her Cristall pointed eyes as I past by : Thinking not to be seene , yet would me see , But soone my hungry eies their food did spy . Alas , my deere , couldst thou suppose , that face Which needs not enuy Phoebus chiefest pride , Could secret be , although in secret place , And that transparant glasse such beames could hide ? But if I had beene blinde , yet Loues hot flame , Kindled in my poore heart by thy bright eye , Did plainly shew when it so neere thee came , By more the vsuall heate then cause was nie . So though thou hidden wert , my heart and eye Did turne to thee by mutuall Sympathy .
XL. SONET . WHen time nor place would let me often view Natures chiefe Mirror , and my sole delight , Her liuely picture in my heart I drew , That I might it behold both day and night , But she , like Philips Sonne , scorning that I Should portraiture , which wanted Apelles Art , Commanded Loue ( who nought dare her deny ) To burne the picture which was in my heart . The more loue burn'd , the more her Picture shin'd : The more it shin'd , the more my heart did burne : So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd , To my hearts ruine and decay did turne . Loue could not burne the Saint , it was diuine , And therefore fir'd my heart , the Saints poore shrine .
XLI . SONET . To the Sunne of his Mistresse beauty eclipsed with frownes . WHen as the Sunne eclipsed is , some say , It thunder , lightning , raine , & wind portendeth , And not vnlike but such things happen may , Sith like effects my Sunne eclipsed sendeth . Witnesse my throat made hoarse with thundring cries , And heart with loues hot flashing lightnings fired : Witnesse the showers which still fall from mine eies , And breast with sighes like stormy winds neare riued . O shine then once againe sweete Sunne on me , And with thy beames dissolue clouds of despaire Whereof these raging Meteors framed be , In my poore heart by absence of my faire . So shalt thou prooue thy beames thy heate , thy light , To match the Sunne in glory , grace and might .
XLII . SONET . Vpon sending her a gold ring , with this Poesie , Pure and Endlesse . IF you would know the loue which I you beare , Compare it to the Ring which your faire hand Shall make more precious , when you shall it weare : So my loues nature you shall vnderstand . Is it of mettall pure ? so you shall proue My loue , which ne're disloyall thought did staine . Hath it no end ? so endlesse is my loue , Vnlesse you it destroy with your disdaine . Doth it the purer waxe the more t is tride ? So doth my loue : yet herein they dissent , That whereas gold the more t' is purifide , By waxing lesse , doth shew some part is spent . My loue doth waxe more pure by your more trying , And yet encreaseth in the purifying .
XLIII . SONET . The hearts captiuitie . MY cruell deere hauing captiu'de my heart , And bound it fast in chaines of restlesse loue : Requires it out of bondage to depart , Yet is she sure from her it cannot moue . Draw backe ( said she ) your hopelesse loue from me , Your worth requires a farre more worthy place , Vnto your suite though I cannot agree , Full many will it louingly embrace . It may be so ( my deere ) but as the Sunne When it appeares doth make the starres to vanish ? So when your selfe into my thoughts do runne , All others quite out of my heart you banish . The beames of your perfections shine so bright , That straight-way they dispell all others light . I. D.
XLIIII . SONET . For her heart onely . ONely ( sweete Loue ) afford me but thy heart Then close thine eyes within their iuory couers , That they to me no beame of light impart , Although they shine on all thy other louers . As for thy lip of ruby , cheeke of rose , Though I haue kist them oft with sweete content , I am content that sweete content to lose , If they sweet Will will not barre me , I assent . Let me not touch thy hand , but through thy gloue , Nor let it be the pledge of kindnesse more : Keepe all thy beauties to thy selfe sweet loue : I aske not such bold fauours as before . I beg but this , afford me but thy heart , For then I know thou wilt the rest impart .
XLV . SONET . BEst pleas'd she is , when loue is most exprest , And sometime saies that loue should be requited , Yet is she grieu'd my loue should now be righted , When that my faith hath prou'd what I protest . Am I belou'd whose heart is thus opprest , Or deere to her , and not in her delighted ? I liue to see the Sunne , yet still benighted , By her despaire is blam'de , and hope supprest , She still denies , yet still her heart consenteth : She grants me all , but that which I desire , She fuell sends , but bids me leaue the fire , She lets me die , and yet my death lamenteth . O foolish loue , by reason of thy blindnesse , I dye for want of loue , yet kild with kindnesse .
XLVI . SONET . WHen a weake child is sicke , and out of quiet , And for his tendernesse cannot sustaine Phisicke of equall strength vnto his paine , Phisitions to the Nurse prescribe a dyet . O I am sicke , and in my sicknesse weake , And through my weaknesse dead , if I but take The pleasantest receit that art can make , Or if I heare but my Phisition speake . But ah ( faire God of Phisicke ) it may be , But Phisick to my nurse would me recouer , She whom I loue with beauty nurseth me , But with a bitter mixture kils her louer . Yet I assure my selfe , I should not die , If she were purged of her crueltie .
XLVII . SONET . WEre I as base as is the lowly plaine , And you ( my loue ) as high as heau'n aboue , Yet should the thoughts of me your humble swaine , Ascend to heauen , in honour of my loue . Were I as high as heau'n aboue the plaine , And you ( my loue ) as humble and as low , As are the deepest bottomes of the Mayne , Whereso'ere you were , with you my loue should go , Were you the earth ( deere loue ) and I the skies , My loue should shine on you like to the Sun , And looke vpon you with ten thousand eyes , Till heau'n wax't blind , and till the world were dun , Where so'ere I am , below , or else aboue you , Where so'ere you are , my heart shall truly loue you .
XLVIII . SONET . THe Poet● faine , that when the world began , Both sexes in one body did remaine , Till loue ( offended with this double man ) Causd Vulcan to diuide him into twaine . In this diuision he the heart did seuer , But cunningly he did indent the heart , That if there were a reuniting euer , Each part might know which was his counterpart . See then ( deere loue ) th' indenture of my heart , And reade the cou'nants writ with holy fire , See ( if your heart be not the counterpart Of my true hearts indented chast desire ) And if it be so may it euer be , Two hearts in one , twixt you my loue and me . I. S.
XLIX . SONET . Loues seuen deadly sinnes . MIne eye with all the deadly sinnes is fraught , 1. First , proud , sith it presum'd to looke so hie : A watchman being made , stood gazing by : 2. And Idle , tooke no heed till I was caught , 3. And Enuious beares enuy , that my thought Should in his absence be to her so nie . 4. To kill my heart , mine eye let in her eye , And so content gaue to a murther wrought : 5. And couetous , it neuer would remoue From her faire haire , gold so doth please his sight . 6. Vnchast , a bawd betweene my heart and loue , 7. A glutton eye , with teares drunke euery night . These sinnes procured haue a Goddesse ire : Wherefore my heart is damn'd in loues sweete fire .
L. SONET . To two most Honor 〈◊〉 and vertuous Ladies and Sisters , the Ladie Margaret , Countesse of Cumberland , the Ladie Anne Countesse of Warwicke . YE Sister-Muses , do not you repine , That I two Sisters doe with nine compare , Since each of these is farre more truly rare , Then the whole troope of all the heau'nly nine . But if ye aske me which is more diuine , I answere , like to their twin eies they are , Of which , each is more bright then brightest starre . Yet neither doth more bright then other shine . Sisters of spotlesse fame , of whom alone Malitious tongues take pleasure to speake well , How should I you command sith either one All things in heau'n and earth so farre excell ? The on ly praise I can you giue is this , That one of you , like to the other is . H. C.
LI. SONET . To my Lord the Prince . DEareling of these , of future times the glory , Branch royall sprung from many a regall stemme , On whose faire structure , written is the story , Of natures chiefest skill , worlds choisest Iemme : Wits richest Cabinet , vertues best aray , Centre where lines of all hearts loues doe meete . Sweete ground whereon the Muses loue to play , Ripe in wit , though greene in yeres , of forme most sweet , Scotlands faire fruit , Englands great hope , Frances loue , Irelands awe , Cambraies ioy , great Brittains fame , Abridgement of all worth , the mighty Ioue , Long lengthen your good daies , and still your name , And when you shall haue honoured long this land , Grant you a glorious Saint in heauen to stand .
LII . SONET . To the excellent Ladie Elizabeth her Grace . FAire vertues Iemme set in most royall gold , The worthiest owner of the fairest mansion , Rich prize for which nature and fortune hold With Muses and graces Great contention : All which by agreement this partition make , None of themselues worthy of all discerning , Nature your beauty , Graces your vertues take , Fortune shares your honour , Muses your learning . Map of perfection , who deserue to be , And are the worthiest marke the world can yeeld , For all great Christian Princes loues , they see Such vertues wheat , growing in beauties field : Long may you liue , a holy and happy life , A royall maide first , then a royall wife .
The end of the Sonets .
Of Canzonets .
I. CANZONET . THE LIE . GOe soule the bodies guest vpon a thanklesse arrant , Feare not to touch the best , the truth shall be thy warrant : Goe since I needs must dye , and giue the world the lye . Say to the Court it glowes , and shines like rotten wood , Say to the Church it shewes what s good , and doth no good . If Church and Court reply . Then giue them both the lye . Tell Potentates they liue acting by others action , Not loued vnlesse they giue , not strong but by affection . If Potentates reply , giue Potentates the lye . Tell men of high condition , that mannage the estate , Their purpose is ambition , their practise onely hate : And if they once reply , then giue them all the lye . Tell them that braue it most , they beg for more by spending , Who in their greatest cost , like nothing but commending . And if they make reply , then giue them all the lie . Tell zeale it wants deuotion , tell loue it is but lust : Tell time it meets but motion , tell flesh it is but dust . And wish them not reply , for thou must giue the lie . Tell age it daily wasteth , tell honour how it alters , Tell beauty how she blasteth , tell fauour how it falters . And as they shall reply , giue euery one the lye . Tell wit how much it wrangles in tickle points of nicenesse , Tell wisedome she entangles her selfe in ouer wisenesse . And when they do reply , straight giue them both the lie . Tell Phisicke of her boldnesse , tell skill it is preuention : Tell Charity of coldnesse , tell law it is contention , And as they doe reply , so giue them still the lye . Tell fortune of her blindnesse , tell nature of decay , Tell friendship of vnkindnesse , tell Iustice of delay . And if they will reply , then giue them all the lie . Tell Arts they haue no soundnesse , but vary by esteeming , Tell schooles they want profoundnesse , and stand so much on seeming . If Arts and Schooles reply , giue arts and schooles the lye . Tell Faith it s fled the Citie , Tell how the countrey erreth , Tell manhood shakes of pittie , tell vertue least preferred . And if they doe reply , spare not to giue the lye . So when thou hast as I , commanded thee , done blabbing , Because to giue the lye , deserues no lesse then stabbing : Stab at thee he that will , no stab thy soule can kill .
Cuddies Embleme . Questo per amar l'aquista . II. CANZONET . The Christian Stoicke . THe vertuous man is free , though bound in chaines , though poore , content , though banisht , yet no stranger , Though sicke , in health of mind , secure in danger , And o're himselfe , the world , and fortune raignes . Nor good haps , proud , nor bad , deiected make him , To Gods , not to mans will , he frames each action ; He seekes no fame , but inward satisfaction , And firmer stands , the more bad fortunes shakes him .
III. CANZONET . Vpon seeing his face in her eye . FAirest and kindest of all women-kind : Since you did me the vndeserued grace , In your faire Eye to shew me my bad face , With loane I le pay you in the selfe same kind : Looke in mine eye , and I will shew to you , The fairest face that heauens eye doth view . But the small worthlesse Glasse of my dimme eye , Scarce shewes the Picture of your heau'nly face Which yet each slightest turne doth strait deface . But could , O could you once my heart espy , Your forme at large you there engrau'd should see , Which , not by Time , nor Death can razed be .
IIII. CANZONET . A Dialogue betweene a Louers flaming heart , and his Ladies frozen Breast . Hart. Shun not ( sweet Breast ) to see me all of fire . Breast . Fly not ( deere Hart ) to finde me all of snow . Hart. Thy snow inflame these flames of my desire . Breast . And I desire , Desires sweet flames to know . Ha. Thy snown'il hurt me . Br. Nor thy fire wil harme me . Ha. This cold wil coole me . Br. And this heat wil warme me : Hart. Take this chast fire to that pure virgin snow , Breast . Being now thus warm'd , I le ne're seeke other fires Hatt . Tou giu'st more blisse than mortal harts may know , Breast . More blisse I take then Angels can desire . Both together . Let one ioy fill vs , as one griefe did harme vs , Let one death kill vs , as one loue doth warme vs .
V. CANZONET . Or Quatrain . IF you reward my loue with loue againe , My blisse , my life , my heau'n I will deeme you , But if you proudly quite me with disdaine . My curse , my death , my hell , I must esteeme you .
VI. CANZONET . An inscription for the Statue of Dido . O most vnhappy Dido , Vnhappy Wife , and more vnhappy Widdow ! Vnhappy in thy Mate . And in thy Louer more vnfortunate . By treason th' one was rest thee , By treason to'other left thee . That left thee means to flye with , This left thee meanes to dye with . The former being dead , From Brothers sword thou flyest : The latter being fled , On Louers , sword thou diest . Piu meritare , che conseguire . F. D.
VII . CANZONET . Loues Hyperboles . IF Loue had lost his shafts , and Ioue downe threw His thunder bolts , or spent his forked fire , They only might recouer'd be anew From out my heart crosse-wounded with desire . Or if debate by Mars were lost a space , It might be found within the selfesame place . If Neptunes waues were all dryed vp and gone , My weeping eyes so many teares distill . That greater seas might grow by them alone : Or if no flame were yet remaining still . In Vulcans forge , he might from out my brest Make choyse of such as should befit him best . If Aeole were depriued of his charge , Yet soone could I restore his winds againe , By sobbing sighs which forth I blow at large , To moue her mind that pleasures in my paine , What man but I could thus incline his will , To liue in loue that hath no end of ill ?
VIII . CANZONET . An inuectiue against Loue . LOue is a sowre delight , a sugred griefe , A liuing death , an euer-dying life . A breath of reasons law , a secret thiefe A sea of teares an euerlasting strife , A baite for fooles a scourge of noble wits , A deadly wound , a shot that euer hits . Loue is a blinded God , a way-ward Boy , A laborinth of doubts , an idle lust , A slaue of beauties will , a witlesse toy , A rauenous bird , a tyrant most vniust . A burning heate in frost , a flattring foe , A priuate hell , a very world of woe . Yet mighty Loue regard not what I say , Who in a trance do lie , reft of my wits , But blame the light that leades me thus astray , And makes my tongue thus raue by frantike fits , Yet hurt me not , least I sustaine the smart , Which am content to lodge her in my heart .
VIII . CANZONET . Petrarks Sonnet translated . Pace non trouo , & non hodasar guera . I Ioy not Peace where yet no war is found , I feare and hope . I burne , yet freeze withall I mount to heauen , yet lye stil on the ground , I nothing hold , yet I compasse all . I liue her bond , which neither is my foe , Nor friend , nor holds me fast , nor lets me goe . Loue will not let me liue , nor let me dye , Nor locks me fast , nor suffers me to scape . I want both eyes and tongue , yet see I cry . I wish for death , yet after helpe I gape . I hate my selfe , yet loue another wight , And feede on griefe in lieu of sweete delight . At the selfe time , I both lament and ioy , I stil am pleas'd and yet displeased still : Loue sometimes seemes a God , somtimes a Boy , Sometimes I sinke , sometimes I swim at will . Twixt death and life , small difference I make , All this ( deere Dame ) endure I for thy sake .
IX . CANZONET . He proues himselfe to endure the hellish torments of Tantalus , Ixion , Titius , Sisyphus and the Belides . IN that I thirst for such a Goddesse grace , As wants remorse , like Tantalus I die , My state is equall to Ixions case , Whose mangled limbs are turn'd continually . In that my rolling toiles can haue no end , Nor loue , nor time , nor chance will stand my friend . In that my heart consuming neuer dies , I feele with Titius an equall paine , Vpon whose heart a vulture feeding lies . In that I rise through hope , and fall agine , By feare like Silyphus I labour still To turne arowling stone against a hill . In that I make my vowes to her alone , Whose eares are deafe , and will retaine no sound , With Belides my state is all but one , Which fill a Tub whose bottome is not sound . Thus in my heart since loue therein did dwell Are all the torments to be found in hell .
X. CANZONET . Loues discommodities . WHere heate of loue doth once possesse the heart , There cares oppresse the mind with wonders ill , Wit runs awry not fearing future smart , And fond desire doth ouer-master will . The belly neither cares for meate nor drinke , Nor ouer-watched eyes desire to winke . Footsteps are false and wauering too and fro : The pleasing flower of beauty fades away , Reason retires , and pleasure brings in woe , And wisedome yeeldeth place to black decay , Counsell and fame , and friendship , are contemn'd , And bashful● shame , and Gods themselues condemn'd . Watchfull suspect is linked with despaire , Inconstant hope is often drown'd in feares , What folly hurts : Fortune cannot repaire , And miserie doth swim in seas of teares , Long vse of life is but a lingring foe , And gentle death is only end of woe .
XI . CANZONET . Allegory of his Loue to a Ship . THe Souldier worne with wars delights in peace , The Pilgrime in his ease when toyles are past , The ship to gaine the Port , when stormes do cease , And I reioyce discharg'd from loue at last . Whom while I seru'd , peace , rest , and land I lost , With wars , with toiles , with storms , worne , tir'd & tost . Sweete liberty now giues me leaue to sing : What world it was , where loue the rule did beare , How foolish Chance by lots rul'd euery thing , How error was main saile , each waue a teare . The master loue himselfe , deepe sighs were winde , Cares row'd with vowes , the Ship a pensiue mind . False hope the healme , oft turn'd the ship about , And constant faith stood vp for middle mast , Despaire the Cable twisted all with doubt , Held griping griefe the piked Anchor fast . Beauty was all the rocks , but I at last . Haue gain'd the the Port , and now my loue is past .
XII . CANZONET . Execration of his passed loue . I Curse the time , wherein these lips of mine , Did pray or praise the dame that was vnkind . I curse my Inke my paper and each line , My hand hath writ in hope to please her mind . I curse her hollow heart , and flattring eyes , Whose ●lye deceits did cause my mourning cries . I curse the sugred speech and Syrens song , Wherewith so oft she hath bewitcht mine care : I cursse my foolish will that staid so long And ooke delight to bide twixt hope and feare : I curse the houre wherein I first began , By louing lookes to proue a witlesse man , I curse the dayes that I haue spent in vaine , In louing one vngratefull and vnkinde : I curse the Bow and shafts that bred my paine , And Loue I curse , that Archer nak'd and blind . But on that howre that my fond loue doth end , Millions of blessings I will euer spend ,
XIII . CANZONET . Of the Sunne : A Iewell , being a Sunne-shining vpon the Marigold closed in a heart of gold , sent to his Mistresse , named Mary . THe Sunne doth make the Marigold to flowrish , The sunnes departure make it droupe againe , So golden Maries sight , my ioyes do nourish , But by her absence all my ioyes are slaine . The sunne , the Marigold makes liue and die , By her the sun shines brighter , so may I. Her smiles do glad the sunne , and light the aires Reuiue my heart , and cleare the cloudy skye . Her frownes the aire make darke , the Sunne to loure . The Marigold to close , my heart to dye , By her the sunne , the flowre , the aire , and I , Shine and darken , spread and close , liue and dye , You are the sunne , you are the golden Mary , Passing the Sunne in brightnesse , gold in powre : I am the flowre whom you do make to vary . Flowrish when you smile , droupe when you do lowre . Oh let this heart of gold , Sun , and flowre , Sill liue , shine , and spring in your hearts bowre ,
XIIII . CANZONET . To her eyes . FAine would I learne of thee thou murth'ring eye , Whether thy glance be fire or else a dart , For with thy looke in flames thou mak'st me fry , And with the same thou strik'st me to the heart . Pierst with thy lookes I burne in fire , And yet those lookes I still desire . The Flie that buzzeth round about the flame Knowes not ( poore soule ) she gets her death thereby , I see my death , and seeing seeke the same , And seeking , find , and finding chuse to dye . That when thy lookes my life haue slaine , Thy lookes may giue me life againe . Turne then to me those sparkling Eyes of thine , And with their fiery glances pierce my heart . Quench not my light least I in darkenesse pine . Strike deepe and spare not , pleasant is the smart . So by thy lookes my life be spilt , Kill me as often as thou wilt .
XV. CANZONET . His heart araigned of theft and acquitted . MY heart was found within my Ladies brest , Close coucht for feare that no man might him see , On whom suspect did serue a straight arrest , And Felon like he must arraigned be . What could he meane so closely there to stay , But by deceit to steale her heart away ? The Bench was set , the Prisoner forth was brought , My Mistresse selfe chiefe Iudge to heare the cause : Th' enditement read , by which his bloud was sought , That he ( poore heart ) by stealth had broke the lawes : His plea was such as each man might descry , For grace and truth were read in either eye . Yet forc'd to speake , his Farther Plea was this , That sore pursu'd by me that sought his bloud , Because so oft his presence I did misse Whilst as he said , he labour'd for my good : He void of helpe to haue his harmes red rest , Tooke sanctuary from his troubled brest . The gentle Iudge that saw his true entent , And that his cause did touch her honour neere , Since he from me to her for succour went ? That truth might raigne , where rigour did appeare , Gaue sentence thus : that if he there would bide , That place was made , a guiltlesse heart to hide .
XVII . CANZONET . Deadly sweetenesse . SWeete thoughts , the foode on which I feeding sterue , Sweet teares , the drink that more augments my thirst , Sweete eyes , the stars by which my course doth swerue , Sweete hope , my death , which waste my life at first . Sweete thoughts , sweete teares , sweet hope , sweet eyes , How chance that death in sweetnesse lies ?
XVIII . CANZONET . Ladies eyes serue Cupid both for Darts and fire . OFt haue I mus'd the cause to find , Why loue in Ladies eyes doth dwell : I thought , because himselfe was blinde , He look't that they should guide him well . And sure his hope but seldome failes , For loue by Ladies eyes preuailes . But time , at last , hath taught me wit . Although I bought my wit full deere , For by her eyes my heart is hit , Dep●i●●●e wound , though none apeare , Their glancing beames as darts he throwes . And sure he hath no shafts but those . I mus'd to see their eyes so bright , And little thought they had bin fire , I gaz'd vpon them with delight , But that delight hath bred desire . What better place can loue require , Then that where grow both shafts and fire ?
XIX . CANZONET . Loues contrarieties . I Smile sometimes amids my greatest griefe , Not for delight , for that long since is fled , Despaire did shut the gate against reliefe , When loue at first , of death the sentence read . But yet I smile sometimes in midst of paine , To think what toies do tosse my troubled head Aow most I wish that most I should refraine , And seeke the thing that least I long to find , And find the wound by which my hart is flain , Yet want both skill and will to ease my mind . Against my will I burne with free consent , I liue in paine , and in my paine delight , I cry for death , yet am to liue content , I hate the day , yet neuer wish for night , I freeze for cold , and yet refraine the fire : I long lo see and yet I shun her sight , I scald in sun , and yet no shade desire , I liue by death , and yet I wish to dye . I feele no hurt , and yet for helpe enquire , I die by life , and yet my life defie . Hen , cogor voti nescius esse mei .
XX. CANZONET . Her outward gesture deceiued his inward hope . SMooth are thy lookes , so is the deepest streame , Soft are thy lips , so is the swallowing sand . Faire is thy sight , but like vnto a dreame , Sweete is thy promise , but it will not stand . Smooth , soft , faire , sweete to them that lightly touch . Rough , hard , soule , soute to them that take too much . Thy lookes so smooth haue drawne away my sight , Who would haue thought that hookes could so be hid ? Thy lips so soft haue fretted my delight , Before I once suspected what they did . Thy face so faire hath burnt me with desire , Thy words so sweete were bellowes for the fire . And yet I loue the lookes that made me blinde , And like to kisse the lips that fret my life , In heate of fire an ease of heate I find , And greatest peace in midst of greatest strife . That if my choise were now to make againe , I would not haue this ioy without this paine .
XXI . CANZONET . That he is vnchangeable . The loue of change hath chang'd the world throughout And nought is counted good , but what is strange , New things waxe old , old new , all turne about , And all things change , except the loue of change . Yet feele I not this loue of change in me , But as I am , so will I alwaies be . For who can change that likes his former choise Who better wish that knowes he hath the best ? How can the heart in things vnknowne reioyce , If ioy well tride can bring no certaine rest ? My choyse is made , change he that list for me , Such as I am , such will I alwaies be . Who euer chang'd and not confest his want ? And who confest his want and not his woe ? Then change who list , thy woe shall not be scant Within thy selfe thou feedst thy mortall foe . Change calls for change , no end no ease for thee , Then as I am , so will I alwayes be . Mine eyes confesse they haue their wished sight , My heart affirmes it feeles the loue it sought . Mine inward thoughts are fed with true delight . Which full consent of constant ioy hath wrought . And full content desires no change to see , Then as I am so will I alwayes be . Rest then ( my heart ) and keepe thine old delight , Which like the Pheoenix waxeth yong each day , Each houre presents new pleasure to my sight , More cause of ioy increaseth euery way . True loue with age doth dayly cleerer see , Then as I am so will I alwaies be . What gain'd faire Cresside by her faithlesse change , But losse of time , of beauty , health , and life ? Marke Iasons hap , that euer lou'd to range , That lost his children and his princely wife . Then change farewell , thou art no mate for me , But as I am , so will I alwaies be .
XXIII . CANZONET . Vpon her absence . THe summer sunne that scalds the ground with heat . And burnes the grasse , and driues the riuers source , With milder beames , the farthest earth doth beate , When through the frozen Goat he runs his course . The fire that burnes what euer comes to hand , Doth hardly heate that farthest off doth stand , Not so the heate that sets my heart on fire , By distance , slakes , and lets me coole againe : But still , the farther off the more desire , The absent fire doth burne with hotter paine . My Ladies presence burne me with desire , Her absence turnes me into flaming fire . Who so hath seene the flame that burneth bright , By outward cold in narrow roome supprest , Encrease in heat , and rage with greater might , May gesse what force of fire torments my brest : So run the swelling streames with double force , Where lockes or piles are set to stay their course . For when my heart perceiu'd her parting neere , By whose sweete sight he liues that else should die , It clos'd it selfe to keepe those beames so cleere , Which from her looke had pierst it through the eye . The fiery beames which would breake out so faine By seeking vent , encrease my burning paine , But if my deere returne aliue and sound , That these mine eies may see her beauty bright , My heart shall spread with ioy that shall abound , And open wide , receiuing cleerer light . She shall recouer that which I possesse , And I thereby enioy no whit the lesse .
XXIIII . CANZONET . The Louer absence kils me , her presence cures me . THe frozen Snake opprest with heaped snow , By strugling hard gets out her tender head , And spies farre off from where she lies below The winter Sunne that from the North is fled . But all in vaine she lookes vpon the light , Where heate is wanting to restore her might . What doth it helpe a wretch in prison pent , Long time with byting hunger ouer-prest , To see without , or smell within the scent , Of dainty fare for others tables drest , Yet Snake and Prisnor both behold the thing , The which ( but not with sight ) might comfort bring . Such is my state , or worse if worse may be , My heart opprest with heauy frost of care , Debar'd of that which is most deare to me , Kild vp with cold , and pinde with euill fare , And yet I see the thing might yeeld reliefe , And yet the sight doth breed my greater griefe . So This be saw her louer through the wall , And saw thereby she wanted that she saw : And so I see , and seeing want withall , And wanting so , vnto my death I draw , And so my death were twenty times my friend , If with this verse my hated life might end .
XXV . CANZONET . Faire Face , and hard Heart . FAire is thy face , and that thou knowest too well , Hard is thy heart , and that thou wilt not know : Thou flear'st and smil'st , when I thy praises tell , But stop'st thine eares when I my griefe would show . Yet though in vaine , needs must I speake , Or else my swelling heart would breake . And when I speake , my breath doth blow the fire , With which my burning heart consumes away : I call vpon thy name , and helpe require , Thy dearest name which doth me still betray : For grace , sweete grace thy name doth sound , Yet ah ! in thee no grace is found . Alas , to what part shall I then appeale ? Thy face so faire disdaines to looke on mee , Thy tongue commands my heart his griefe conceale , Thy nimble feete from me do alwaies flee . Thine eyes cast fire to burne my heart , And thou reioycest in my smart . Then , since thou seest the life I lead in paine , And that for thee I suffer all this griefe , O let my heart this small request obtaine . That thou agree it pine without reliefe ! I aske not loue for my good will , But leaue , that I may loue thee still . Quid minus optari per mea vota potest ?
XXVI . CANZONET . An inuectiue against Loue . ALl is not gold that shineth bright in show , Not euery flowre so good , as faire , to sight , The deepest streames , aboue doe calmest flow , And strongest poysons oft the tast delight , The pleasant baite doth hide the harmelesse hooke , And false deceit can lend a friendly looke . Loue is the gold whose outward hew doth passe , Whose first beginnings goodly promise make , Of pleasures faire and fresh as Sommers grasse , Which neither Sunne can parch , nor winde can shake : But when the mould should in the fire betride , The gold is gone , the drosse doth still abide . Beauty the flowre , so fresh , so faire , so gay , So sweete to smell , so soft to touch and tast : As seemes it should endure , by right for aye , And neuer be with any storme defa'st . But when the balefull Southerne winde doth blow , Gone is the glory which it erst did show . Loue is the streame , whose waues so calmely flow As might intice mens minds to wade therein : Loue is the poison mixt with sugar so , As might by outward sweetnesse liking win . But as the deepe o'reflowing stops thy breath , So poyson once receiu'd brings certaine death . Loue is the baite , whose tast the fish deceiues , And makes them swallow downe the choaking hooke , Loue is the face whose fairenesse iudgement reaues , And makes thee trust a false and fained looke . But as the hooke the foolish fish doth kill , So flattring lookes , the louers life doe spill .
XXVII . CANZONET . Vpon his Ladies buying strings for her Lute . IN happy time the wished faire is come , To fit my Lute with strings of eu'ry kinde , Great pitty 't is , so sweete a Lute be dumme , That so can please the eare , and ease the minde . Go take thy choise , and chuse the very best , And vse them so , that head and heart find rest . Rest thou in ioy , and let me waile alone , My pleasant daies haue tane their last farewell : My heart-strings sorrow strooke so long with mone , That at the last they all in peeces fell . And now they lye in pieces broke so small , That scarce they serue to make me frets withall . And yet they serue and binde my heart so straite , That frets indeed they serue to fret it out : No force for that , in hope thereof I waite , That death may rid me both of hope and doubt . But death , alas , drawes backward all too long , And I each day feele now increase of wrong .
XXVIII . CANZONET . Care will not let him liue , nor hope let him dye . MYy heauy heart which griefe and hope torment , Beates all in vaine against my weary breast , As if it thought with force to make a vent , That death might enter to procure my rest . But foolish heart , thy paines are last I see , For death and life both flie and follow thee . When weight of care would presse me down with paine , That I might sinke to depth of death below , Hope lends me wings and lifts me vp againe , To striue for life and liue in greater woe . So fares the Boate , which windes driue to the shore , And tides driue backward where it was before . Thus neither hope will let me die with care , Nor Care consent that hope assure my life , I seeke for life , death doth his stroke prepare , I come to death , and life renewes my strife . All as the shadow , followes them that flie , And flies from them that after it doe hie . What is my hope ? that hope will faile at last , And griefe get strength to worke his will on me : Either the waxe with which hopes wings are fast , By scalding sighes mine eies shall melted see . Or else my teares shall wet the feathers so , That I shall fall and drowne in waues of woe .
XXIX . CANZONET . In praise of the Sunne . THE Golden Sunne that brings the day , And lends men light to see withall , In vaine doth cast his beames away , Where they are blind on whom they fall , There is no force in all his light , To giue the Mole a perfect sight . But thou my Sunne more bright then he , That shines at noone in Summer tide , Hast giuen me light and powre to see , With perfect skill my sight to guide . Till now I liu'd as blind as Mole , That hides her head in earthly hole . I heard the praise of beauties grace , Yet deem'd it nought but Poets skill , I gaz'd on many a louely face , Yet found I none to bind my will . Which made me thinke that beauty bright , Was noting else but red and white . But now thy beames haue clear'd my sight , I blush to thinke I was so blind : Thy flaming eyes afford me light , That beauties blaze each where I find . And yet these Dames that shine so bright , Are but the shadow of thy light .
XXX . CANZONET . Death in loue . MIne eies haue spent their teares , and now are dry , My weary hand will guide my Pen no more . My voyce is hoarse , and can no longer cry , My head hath left no new complaints in store , My heart is ouerburd'ned so with paine , That sence of griefe doth none therein remaine . The teares you see distilling from mine eies , My gentle Muse doth shed for this my griefe . The plaints you heare are her incessant cries , By which she cals in vaine for some reliefe . She neuer parted since my griefe begun , In her I liue , she dead , my life were done . Then ( louing Muse ) depart , and let me dye , Some brauer youth will sue to thee for grace , That may aduance thy glory to the sky , And make thee scorne blind fortunes frowning face . My heart and head that did thee entertaine , Desire and Fortune with despight haue slaine . My Lady dares not lodge thee in her brest , For feare , vnwares she let in loue with thee , For well she thinkes some part in thee must rest , Of that which so possest each part of me . Then ( good my Muse ) flie backe to heau'n againe . And let me dye , to end this endlesse paine .
XXXI . CANZONET . Breake heauy heart . BReake heauy heart , and rid me of this paine , This paine that still encreaseth day by day : By day with sighes I spend my selfe in vaine : In vaine by night with teares I wast away . Away I wast with teares by night in vaine , Teares , sighes by night , by day encrease this paine . Mine eyes no eyes , but fountaines of my teares , My teares no teares , but floods to moyst my heart : My heart no heart , but labour of my feares , My feares no feares , but feelings of my smart . My smart , my feares , my heart , my teares , mine eies Are blinde , dride , spent , past , wasted with my cries . And yet mine eies , though blind , see cause of griefe , And yet my teares , though dride , runne downe amaine And yet my heart , though spent , attends reliefe . And yet my feares , though past , encrease my paine . And yet I liue , and liuing feele more smart , And smarting , cry in vaine , breake heauy heart .
XXXII . CANZONET . Desires gouernment . WHere wit is ouer-ruld by will , And will is led by fond desire , There reason were as good be still , As speaking , kindle greater fire , For where desire doth beare the sway , The heart must rule , the head obay . What bootes the cunning Pilots skill , To tell which way to shape their course : When he that steers will haue his will , And driue them where he list perforce . So reason shewes the truth in vaine , Where fond desire as King doth raigne .
XXXIII . CANZONET . Loues properties . TWixt heat and cold , t'wixt death and life , I freeze and burne , I liue and die : Which ioyntly worke in me such strife , I liue in death , in cold I fry . Nor hot , nor cold , nor liue , nor dead , Neither , and both , this life I lead . First burning heate sets all on fire , Whereby I seeme in flames to fry : Then cold despaire kils hot desire , That drenched deepe , in death I lye . Heate driues out cold , and keepes my life , Cold quencheth heate , ●o end of strife The lesse I hope to haue my will , The more I feele desire encrease , And as desire encreaseth still , Despaire to quench it doth not cease . So liue I as the Lampe , whose light Oft comes , oft goes , now dim , now bright .
XXXIIII . CANZONET . Liuing Death . IF meanes be none to end my restlesse care , If needs I must o'rewhelm'd with sorrow lie : What better way this sorrow to declare , Then , that I dying liue , and cannot dye ? If nought but losse I reape in stead of gaine , If lasting paine do euery day encrease : To thee ( good Death ) alas I must complaine , Thou art of force to make my sorrow cease . If thou , because I thee refusde sometime , Now shut thine eares , and my request deny , Still must I liue , and waile in wofull rime : That dying still I am , and cannot die . Spiro non viuo .
XXXV . CANZONET . The passionate Prisoner . YE walls that shut me vp from sight of men , Inclosd wherein aliue I buried lie , And thou sometime my bed , but now my den , Where smothred vp , the light of Sunne I flye : O shut your selues , each chinke and creuisse straine , That none but you may heare me thus complaine . My hollow cries that beate thy stony side , Vouchsafe to heare , but beate them backe againe , That when my griefe hath speech to me denide , Mine eares may heare the witnesse of my paine . As for my teares , whose streames must euer last , My silent couch shall drinke them vp as fast .
XXXVI . CANZONET . Hopelesse desire soone withers and dyes . THough naked trees seeme dead to sight , When Winter winde doth keenely blow , Yet if the roote maintaine her right , The Spring their hidden life will show . But if the roote be dead and dry , No maruell though the branches dye . While hope did liue within my brest , No Winter storme could kill desire , But now disdaine hath hope opprest , Dead is the roote , dead is the spire . Hope was the roote , and spire was loue . No sap beneath , no life aboue . And as we see the rootlesse stocke , Retaine some sap , and spring a while Yet quickly p●●●● life lesse blocke , Because the ●o●te doth life beguile : S● liues desi●● which hope hath left , As twilight shines when Sunne is reft .
XXXVII . CANZONET . Naturall comparisons with perfect loue . THE lowest trees haue tops , the Ant her gall , The flye her spleene the little sparkes their heate : The slender haires cast shadowes , though but small , And Bees haue stings , although they be not great . S●●s haue their furges , so haue shallow springs , And loue is loue , in Beggars as in Kings . Where riuers smoothest run , deepe are the fords , The Diall stirres , yet none perceiues it moue , The firmest faith is in the fewest words , The Turtles cannot sing , and yet they loue . True hearts haue eyes , and eares , no tongues to speake , They heare , and see , and sigh , and then they breake .
XXXVIII . CANZONET . An answere to the first staffe , that loue is vnlike in Beggars and in Kings . COmpare the Bramble with the Cedar tree , The Pismires anger with the Lyons rage : What is the buzzing flye where Eagles be ? A drop the sparke , no Seas can Aetna swage . Small is the heate in Beggars breasts that springs , But flaming fire consumes the hearts of Kings . Who shrouds himselfe where slender haires cast shade ? But mighty Oakes may scorne the Summer Sun ; Small cure will serue , where Bees the wound haue made , But Dragons poyson through each part doth run . Light is the loue that beggars bosome stings , Deepe is the wound that Cupid makes in Kings . Small channels serue , where shallow springs do slide , And little helpe will turne or stay their course : The highest bankes scarce hold the swelling tide , Which ouerthrowes all stops with raging force : The baser sort scarce wet them in the springs , Which ouer-whelme the head , of mighty Kings . What though in both the heart be seat of loue , The selfe-same ground both corne and cockle breeds : Fast by the Bryar , the Pine tree mounts aboue , One kinde of grasse , the Iade , and Iennet feeds : So from the heart , by secret vertue springs , Vnlike desire in beggars and in Kings .
XXXIX . CANZONET . A song in praise of a Beggars life . BRight shines the Sunne , Play Beggars play , Heere 's scraps enough to serue to day . What noise of Viols is so sweete , As when our merry clappers ring , What mirth doth want where Beggars meete , A beggars life is for a King . Eate , drinke , and play , sleepe when we list , Go where we will , so stockes be mist . Bright shines , &c. The world is ours , and ours alone , For we alone haue world at will , We purchase not , all is our owne , Both fields and streetes we beggars fill . Nor care to get , nor feare to keepe , Did euer breake a beggars sleepe . Bright shines , &c. A hundred head of blacke and white , Vpon our gownes securely feede , If any dares his Master bite , He dies therefore as sure as Creede . Thus beggars lord it as they please , And none but beggers liue at ease . Bright shines the Sun , &c.
XL. CANZONET . To Time . ETernall Time that wastest without wast , That art , and art not , diest , and liuest still . Most slow of all , and yet of greatest hast , Both ill and good , and neither good nor ill . How can I iustly praise thee , or dispraise , Darke are thy nights , but bright and cleare thy daies . Both free and scarce thou giu'st and tak'st againe , Thy wombe that all doth breede , is Tombe to all : What so by thee hath life by thee is slaine , From thee do all things rise , to thee they fall : Constant , inconstant , mouing , standing still , Was , is , shall be , doe thee both breede and kill . I lose thee , while I seek to find thee out , The farther off , the more I follow thee : The faster hold , the greater cause of doubt , Was , is , I know , but shall , I cannot see , All things by thee are measured , thou by none : All are in thee , thou in thy selfe alone .
XLI . CANZONET . A hymne in praise of Musicke . PRaise , pleasure , profite , is that threefold band , Which ties mens minds more fast than Gordions knot Each one some drawes , all three none can withstand , Of force conioynd , Conquest is hardly got . Then Musicke may of hearts a Monarch be , Wherein prayse , pleasure profite so agree . Praise-worthy Musicke is , for God it praiseth , And pleasant , for brute beasts therein delight , Great profit from it flowes , for why it raiseth The mind ouerwhelmed with rude passions might : When against reason passions fond rebell , Musicke doth that confirme , and those expell . If Musicke did not merit endlesse praise , Would heauenly Spheares delight in siluer round ? If ioyous pleasure were not in sweet layes , Would they in Court and Country so abound ? And profitable needes we must that call , Which pleasure linkt with praise doth bring to all . Heroicke minds with praises most incited , Seeke praise in Musicke and therein excell : God , man , beasts , birds , with Musicke are delighted , And pleasant t' is which pleaseth all so well . No greater profit is then selfe content : And this will Musicke bring , and care preuent . When antique Poets Musicks praises tell , They say it beasts did please and stones did moue : To proue more dull then stones , then beasts more 〈◊〉 Those men which pleasing Musicke did not loue , They fain'd , it Cities built , and states defended To shew the profite great on it depended . Sweete birds ( poore mens Musitians ) neuer slake To sing sweet Musickes praises day and night : The dying Swans in Musicke pleasures take , To shew that it the dying can delight : In sicknesse , health , peace , warre , we do it need , Which proues sweet Musicks profit doth exceed . But I , by niggard praising , do dispraise Praise-worthy musicke in my worthlesse Rime : Ne can the pleasing profit of sweet laies , Any saue learned Muses well define , Yet all by these rude lines may clearely see , Praise , pleasure , profite , in sweet musicke be .
XLII . CANZONET . Or a Hymne in praise of Neptune . OF Neptunes Empire le vs sing , At whose command the waues o bay : To whom the riuers tribute pay , Downe the high mountaines sliding : To whom the scaly Nation yeelds Homage for the Christall fields Wherein they dwell . And euery Sea-God paies a lem , Yeerely out of his watry Cell , To deck great Neptunes Diadem : The Tritons dancing in a ring , Before his Pallace gates , do make The waters with their ecchoes quake , Like the great thunder sounding : The Sea-Nimphs chant their accents shrill , And the Syrens taught to kill With their sweet voyce : Make euery ecchoing rock reply , Vnto their gentle murmuring noyse , The praise of Neptunes Empery , Th. Campion .
XLIII . CANZONET . Or a Hymne that was sung by Amphitryte , Thamasis , & other Sea Nimphs in Graies-Inne , Maske at the Court. 1594. Of his Mistresses face . ANd would you see my mistresse face ? It is a flowry garden place , Where knots of beauty haue such grace , That all is worke , and no where space . It is a sweete delicious morne , Where day is breeding , neuer borne : It is a meadow yet vnshorne , Which thousand flowers do adorne . It is the heauens bright reflexe , Weake eyes to dazle and to vexe : It is th' Idaea of her sexe , Enuy of whom doth world perplexe It is a face of death that smiles , Pleasing , though it kill the whiles , Where death and loue in pretty wiles , Each other mutually beguiles . It is faire beauties freshest youth , It is a fain'd Eliziums truth : The spring that wintred hearts renu'th , And this is that my soule pursu'th .
XLIIII . CANZONET . Vpon her palenesse . BLame not my checks though pile with loue they be , The kindly heare into my heart is flowue : To cherrish it that is dismayd by thee , Who art so cruell and vnstedfast growne . For ●ature cald for by distressed hearts , Neglects , and quite forsakes the outward parts . But they whose cheekes with carelesse bloud are staind , Nurse not one sparke of loue within their hearts , And when they woo , they speake with passion faind , For their fat loue lies in their outward parts . But in their breasts where loue his court should hold Poore Cupid sits , and blowes his nayles for cold . Tho. Campion .
XLV . CANZONET . Of Corinnaes singing . WHen to her Lute Corinna sings , Her voyce reuiues the leaden strings , And doth in highest notes appeare , As any challeng'd eccho cleere , But when she doth of mourning speake , Eu'n with her sighs the strings do breake . And as her Lute doth liue or die , Led by her passions , so must I : For when of pleasure she doth sing , My thoughts enioy a sodaine spring , But if she doe of sorrow speake , Eu'n from my heart the strings do breake . Tho. Campion .
XLVI . CANZONET . Vpon his Ladies sickenesse of the Pox● . CRuell and vnpartiall sickensse , Sword of that Arch-Monarke death , That subdues all strength by weakenesse , Whom all kings pay tribute breath . Are not these thy steps I tracke , In the pure snow of her face , When thou did'st attempt to sacke Her liues fortresse , and it race . Th' heauenly hony thou didst sucke , From her Rose cheeks might suffice , Why then didst thou marre and plucke Those deere flowers of rarest price ? Mean'st thou thy Lord to present With those rich spoiles and adorne , Leauing me them to lament . And in Inkes black teares thus mourne ? No : I le in my bosome weare them , And close lock them in my heart : Thence , nor time , nor death shall beare them , Till I from my selfe depart .
XLVII . CANZONET . In the grace of wit , of tongue and face . Her face : her tongue , her wit , so faire , so sweet , so sharpe , First bent , them drew , now hit , mine eye , mine eare my hart Mine eye , mine eare , my heart , to like to learne to loue , Her face , hir tong , hir wit , doth lead , doth teach , doth moue Her face , her tong , hir wit , with beams , with sound , with art , Doth blind , doth charme , doth rule , mine eie , mine eare , Mine eie , mine eare , my hart , with life , with hope , with skil my heart , Her face , her tong , her wit , doth feed doth feast , doth fill . O face , o tong , o wit , with frowns , with checks , with smart wring not , vex not , wound not mine eie , mine eare , my hart This eie , this eare , this hart shal ioy , shal bind , shal sweare , Your face , your tong , your wit , to serue , to loue , to feare .
XLVIII . CANZONET . An inuectiue against women . ARe women faire ? I wondrous faire to see too , Are women sweet ? Yea passing sweet they be to : Most faire and sweete to them that in lye loue them , Chast and discreete to all , saue those that proue them . Are women wise ? Not wise , but they be witty , Are women witty ? Yea , the more the pitty : They are so witty , and in wit so wily , That be ye ne're so wise , they will beguile ye . Are women fooles ? Not fooles , but fondlings many , Can women fond be faithfull vnto any ? When snow-white swans do run to colour sable , Then women fond will be both firme and stable . Are women Saints ? No Saints , nor yet no diuels . Are women good ? not good , but needfull euils . So Angel-like , that diuels I do not doubt them , So needfull ils , that few can liue without them . Are women proud ? I , passing proud , and praise them . Are women kind ? I , wondrous kind , and please them Or so imperious , no man can endure them , Or so kind hearted , any may procure them . Ignote .
XLIX . CANZONET . This song was sung before her sacred Maiestie at a shew on horsebacke , wherewith the right Honourable the Earle of Cumberland presented her Highnesse on May day last . Of loue gift . WHo giues a gift to bind a friend thereby , Doth set or put his gift to vsury : And he that giues a gift that is not free , Giues where he list , so that he giue not me . For bought and sold is friendship strange , Who liues by selling liues by change . And he that loues to change his friend , Will turne to nothing in the end .
L. CANZONET . The Anatomie of Loue . NOw what is loue , I pray thee tell ? It is that fountaine and that well , Where pleasure and repentance dwell : It is perhaps that sounding bell , That tols all in , to heauen , or hell , And this is loue , as I heare tell . Now what is Loue , I prethee say ? It is a worke on holy day , It is December match'd with May , When lusty bloods in fresh array , Heare ten months after of their play : And this is loue , as I heare say . Now what is loue , I prethee faine , It is a sun-shine mixt with raine , It is a gentle pleasing paine , A flower that dyes and springs againe . It is in faith that would full faine , And this is loue , and not a staine . Yet what is loue , I prethee say , It is a pretty shaddow way , As well found out by night as day , It is a thing will soone decay : Then take the vantage while you may , And this is loue as I heare say . Now what is loue , I prethee show ? A thing that creepes and cannot goe , A prize that passeth too and fro , A thing for one , a thing for moe . And he that proues shall find it so , And this is some sweet friend I trow . In vaine I liue , such sorrow liues in me , In vaine liues sorrow , since by her I liue : Life workes in vaine , where death will Master be , Death striues in vaine , where life doth vertue giue . Thus each of vs would worke anothers woe , And hurts himselfe in vaine , and helpes his foe .
LI. CANZONET . Loue the onely price of loue . THe fairest Pearles that Northerne Seas do breed , For precious stones from Easterne coasts are sold , Nought yeelds the earth that from exchange is freed , Gold values all , and all things value Gold . Where goodnesse wants an equall change to make , There greatnesse serues , or number place doth take . No mo tall thing can beare so high a price , But that with mortall thing it may be bought , The corne of Sicill buyes the Westerne spice , French wine of vs , of them our cloth is sought . No pearles , no gold , no stones , no corne , no spice , No cloth , no wine , of loue can pay the price . What thing is loue which nought can counteruaile ? Nought saue it selfe , eu'n such a thing is loue , All worldly wealth in worth as farre doth faile , As lowest earth doth yeeld to heau'n aboue . Diuine is loue , and scorneth worldly pelfe , And can be bought with nothing , but it selfe . Such is the price my louing heart would pay , Such is the pay thy loue doth claime as due , Thy due is loue , which I ( poore I ) assay , In vaine assay to quite with friendship true : True is my loue , and true shall euer be , And truest loue is farre too base for thee . Loue but thy selfe , and loue thy selfe alone , For saue thy selfe , none can thy loue requite : All mine thou hast , but all as good as none , My small desart must take a lower flight . Yet if thou wilt vouchsafe my heart such blisse , Accep it for thy prisoner as it is .
The end of the second Booke .
THE THIRD BOOKE OF Pastorals and Eliges . Two Pastorals made by Sir Phillip Sidney . Vpon his meeting with his two worthy Friends , and fellow Poets , Sir Edward Dier , and M. Fulke Greuill .
I. PASTORALL . IOyne mates in mirth to me , Grant pleasure to our meeting : Let Pan our good God see , How gratefull is our greeting . Ioyne hearts and hands , so let it be , Make but one mind in bodies three . Ye Hymnes and singing skill Of God Apolloes giuing , Be prest our reeds to fill , With sound of musicke liuing . Ioyne hearts and hands , &c. Sweete Orpheus Harpe , whose ●●●nd The stedfast mountaines moued , Let here thy skill abound , To ioyne sweete friends beloued . Ioyne hearts and hands , &c. My two and I be met , A happy blessed Trinitie , As three most ioyntly set , In firmest band of vnity . Ioyne hands , &c. Welcome my two to me , E. D. F. G. P. S. The number best beloued , Within my heart you be In friendship vnremoued . Ioyne hands , &c. Giue leaue your flockes to range , Let vs the while be playing , Within the Elmy grange , Your flockes will not be straying . Ioyne hands , &c. Cause all the mirth you can , Since I am now come hether , Who neuer ioy but when I am with you together . Ioyne hands , &c. Like Louers doe their loue , So ioy I , in you seeing : Let nothing me remoue From alwaies with you being . Ioyne hands , &c. And as the Turtle Doue To mate with whom he liueth , Such comfort , feruent loue Of you to my heart giueth . Ioyne hands , &c. Now ioyned be our hands , Let them be ne're asunder , But linkt in binding bands , By metamorphoz'd wonder . So should our seuered bodies three , As one for euer ioyned be . Sir Phil. Sidney .
II. PASTORALL . Dispraise of a Courtly life . WAlking in bright Phoebus blaze . Where with heate opprest I was , I got to a shady wood . Where greene leaues did newly bud , And of grasse was plenty dwelling , Deckt with pide flowers sweetly smelling . In this wood a man I met , On lamenting wholly set : Ruing change of wonted state , Whence he was transformed late , Once to Shepheards God retaining . Now in seruile Court remaining . There he wandring malcontent , Vp and downe perplexed went , Daring not to tell to me , Spake vnto a senslesse tree , Once amongst the rest electing . These same words , or this effecting . My old mates I grieue to see , Voyde of me in field to be , Where we once our louely sheepe , Louingly like friends did keepe , Oft each others friendship prouing , Neuer striuing , but in louing . But may Loue abiding be In poore shepheards base degree ? It belongs to such alone To whom art of Loue is knowne : Seely shepheards are not witting What in art of Loue is fitting . Nay , what need the art to those , To whom we our loue disclose ? It is to be vsed then , When we do but flatter men : Friendship true in heart assured , Is by natures gifts procured . Therefore shepheards wanting skill , Can Loues dueties best fulfill , Since they know not how to faine , Nor with Loue to cloake disdaine : Like the wiser sort , whose learning Hides their inward will of harming . Well was I , while vnder shade Oaten Reeds me musicke made , Striuing with my mates in Song : Mixing mirth our Songs among . Greater was the sheapheards treasure , Then this false , fine , courtly pleasure . Where , how many Creatures be , So many puft in minde I see , Like to Iunoes birds of pride , Scarce each other can abide : Friends like to black Swans apearing Sooner these than those in hearing . Therefore Pan , if thou mayst be Made to listen vnto me , Grant I say ( if seely man May make treaty to God Pan , ) That I , without thy denying , May be still to thee relying . Only for my two loues sake , Sir Ed. D. and M. F. G. In whose loue I pleasure take , Onely two do me delight With their euer-pleasing sight , Of all men to thee retaining , Grant me with those two remaining . So shall I vnto thee alwayes , With my reeds sound mighty praise , And first Lambe that shall be fall , Yearely decke thine Altar shall , If it please thee to be reflected , And I from thee not reiected . So I left him in that place , To king pitie on his case , Learning this among the rest That the meane estate is best , Better filled with contenting Voyd of wishing and repenting . S. Ph. Sidney .
III. PASTORALL . Dialogue betweene two Shepheards , Thenot , and Piers , in praise of Astrea . T●●n I Sing diuine Astreas praise , O Muses helps my wits to raise , And heaue my verses higher . Piers. Thou needs the truth but plainly tell , Which much I doubt thou canst not wel Thou art so oft a lyer . Then. If in my song no more I show , Then heauen and earth , and Sea do know , Then truely I haue spoken . Piers. Sufficeth not no more to name , But being no lesse , the like , the same , Else lawes of truth be broken . Then. Then say , she is so good , so fayre , With all the earth she may compare , Nor Momus selfe denying : Piers. Compare may thinke where likenesse holds , Nought like to her the earth enfolds , I lookt to finde you lying . Then. Astraea sees with wisedomes sight , Astraea workes by Vertues might , And ioyntly both do stay in her . Piers. Nay take from them her hand , her mind , The one is lame , the other blind , Shall still your lying staine her ? Then. Soone as Astraea shewes her face , Straight euery ill auoyds the place , And euery good aboundeth Piers. Nay long before her face doth show , The last doth come , the first doth go How lowd this lie resoundeth . Then. Astraea is our chiefest ioy , Our chiefest guard against annoy , Our chiefest wealth , our treasure . Piers. Where chiefest are , there others be , To vs none else but onely she , When wilt thou speake in measure ? Then. Astraea may be iustly sayd , A field in flowry Roabe arrayd , In season freshly springing . Piers. That spring indures but shortest time , This neuer leaues Astraeas clime , Thou lyest , in stead of singing . Then. As heauenly light that guides the day , Right so doth shine each louely Ray , That from Astraea flyeth . Piers. Nay , darkenesse of that light in cloudes . Astraeas beames no darknesse shrowdes : How loudly Thenot lyeth . Then. Astraea rightly terme I may , A manly Palme , a maiden bay , Her verdure neuer dying . Piers. Palme oft is crooked , Bay is low , She still vpright , still high doth grow , Good Thenot leaue thy lying . Then. Then Piers , of friendship tell me why , My meaning true , my words should lie , And striue in vaine to raise her ? Piers. Words from conceit to onely rise Aboue conceit her honour flies : But silence naught can praise her . Mary Countesse of Pembreoke .
IIII. PASTORALL . A round clay in inuerted Rimes , betweene the two friendly Riual● , Strephon and Klaius , in the presence of Vrania Mistresse to them both . Strephon. O Whither shall I turne me , From thine eyes sight , Whose sparkling light With quenchlesse flames present , and absent burne me ? For I burne when as view them , And I burne when I eschew them . Klaius . Since I cannot eschew them , But that their light Is in my sight , Both when I view them not , and when I view them : Ere their flames will cease to burne me , From my selfe , my selfe must turne me . Strephon. When none are present by you . I feele their might And your eyes bright Appeare more glorious , other being nigh you . So alone , or else compared , Wretch , I am by them insnared . Klaius . Since that I am insnared By your eyes bright , And feele their might : Whether alone they be or else compared , Wheresoeuer I am nigh you , Loue I must , if I be by you . Strephon When you looke kindly on me , They loue incite , And spite of spite I loue them likewise , when you frowne vpon me , So , how ere your lookes are framed , By your lookes I am inflamed . Klaius . Since that I am inflamed , Eu'n by their spite . And they incite Soule-warming flames when they are mildely framed , How so ere you looke vpon me , Loue I must if you looke on me . Strephon. O when shall I them banish , Since against right , No day nor night . Though absent from me , from me they do vanish ? So no respite time doth grant me , But incessantly they haunt me . Klaius . Since they ( alas ) do haunt me Both day and night , And wonted right , Obtain'd by absence , absence doth not grant me , Night and day may sooner vanish , Then from me I can them banish . Strephon They , when the day doth leaue me , Lodge in my spirit : And of their sight , No sight by day discerned can bereaue me . So nor day ought else reuealeth , Nor the night the same concealeth . Klaius . Since day , like night concealeth Each other sight , And to my spirit Concealing darknesse , them like day reuealeth . Time of time must quite bereaue me , Ere your lookes sweet lookes , will leaue me . Walter Dauison .
V. PASTORALL . Or Strephons Palinode .

Strephon , vpon some vnkindnesse conceiued , hauing made shew to leaue Vrania , and make loue to another Nymph , was at the next solemne assembly of shepheards , not onely frowned vppon by Vrania , but commanded with great bitternesse out of her presence : Whereupon , sorry for his offence , and desirous to regaine her grace , whom he neuer had forsaken , but in shew , vpon his knee , he in this song humbly craues pardon : and Vrania finding his true penitence , and vnwilling to lose so worthy a seruant receiues him againe into greater grace and fauour then before .

SWeet , I do not pardon cra●e Till I haue , By desires this fault amended , This , I onely this desire , That your ire May with penance be suspended , Not my will but fate did fetch Me poore wretch , Into this vnhappy error . Which to plague no tyrants mind Paine can find , Like my hearts selfe guilty terror . Then , O then ! let that suffice Your deare eyes Need not , need not more afflict me , Nor your sweete tongue dipt in gall , Need at all From your presence interdict me . Vnto him that hell sustaines . No new paines Need be sought for his tormenting . O my paines hels paines surpasse : Yet alas ! You are still new paines inuenting . By my loue , long , firme , and true , Borne to you , By these teares my griefe expressing , By this Pipe which nights and daies sounds your praise Pittie me , my fault confessing . Or if I may not desire That your ire May with penance be suspended : Yet let me full pardon craue , When I haue , With soone death my fault amended .
Vraniaes answere in inuerted rimes , Staffe for Staffe . SInce true penance hath suspended Fained ire , More I le grant then you desire . Faults confest are halfe amended , And I haue , In this halfe , all that I craue . Therefore banish now the terror , Which you find In your guiltlesse grieued mind . For though you haue made an error , From me wretch First beginning it did fetch . Nere my sight I le interdict thee More at all . Nere speake words more dipt in gall , Nere , nere will I more afflict thee With these eyes . What is past , shall not suffice . Now new ioyes I le be inuenting , Which ( alas ) May thy passed Woes surpasse . Too long thou hast felt tormenting , Too great paines So great loue and faith sustaines . Let these eyes ( by thy confessing , Worthy prayse ) Neuer see more nights nor dayes , Let my woes be past expressing , When to you I cease to be kind and true . Thus are both our states amended , For you haue Fuller pardon then you craue , And my feare is quite suspended , Since mine ire Wrought th' effect I most desire .
Fra. Dauison .
VI. PASTORALL A Shepheard poore , Eubulus cald he was Poore now alas , but erst had iolly beene ) One pleasant morne when as the Sunne did passe The fiery hornes of raging Bull betweene , His little flocke into a Meade did bring , As soone as day-light did begin to spring . Fresh was the Meade in Aprils liuery dight , Deckt with greene Trees , bedew'd with siluer Brookes , But ah ! all other was the shepheards plight , All other were both sheepe and shepheards lookes : For both did shew by their dull heauy cheare , They tooke no pleasure of the pleasant yeare . He weeping went , ay me that he should weepe ! They hung their heads , as they to weepe would learne , His heauy heart did send foorth sighing deepe , They in their bleating voyce did seeme to yearne . He leane and pale , their fleece was rough and rent . They pinde with paine , and he with dolours spent . His pleasant Pipe was broke ( alas the while ) And former merriment was banisht quite . His shepheards Crooke that him vpheld ere-while , He earst had throwne away with great despite . Tho leaning gainst a shrub that him sustained , To th' earth , sun , birds , trees , echo thus he plained . Thou all-foorth-bringing earth , though winter chill , With blustring windes blow off thy mantle greene , And with his Snow and hoary frostes doe spill , Thy Flora-pleasing flowers and kill them clean . Yet when fresh spring returnes againe To driue away the winters paine , Thy frost and snow Away do goe . Sweete Zephyres breath cold Boreas doth displace , And fruitfull showers . Reuiue thy flowers , And nought but ioy is seene in euery place . But ah ! how long , alas how long doth last My endlesse winter without hope of Spring ? How haue my sighs , my blustring sighs defac't The flowers and buds which erst my soule did bring . Alas the tops that did aspire , Lie troden now in filthy mite . Alas ! my head Is all be spread With too vntimely snow : and eke my heart All sence hath lost , Through hardned frost , Of cold despaire , that long hath bred my smart . What though some rising Torrents ouerflow With nought-regarding streames thy pleasant greene . And with their furious force do lay full low , Thy drowned flowers , how euer sweete they beene ? Soone fall those flouds as soone as they rose , ( For fury soone his force doth lose , And then full each Apolloes breath , The cold , yet drying North-winde , so doth warme , That by and by Thy meades be dry , And grow more fruitfull by their former harme . O would the teares that Torrent-like do flow , A downe my hollow cheekes with restlesse force , Would once ( O that they could once ) calmer grow , Would like to thine , once cease their ceasles course . Thine last not long , mine still endure : Thine cold , and so thy wealth procure : No mine are still . And so do kill Both flower and roote , with most vnkindly dew : What sunne or winde Away can find , The roote once dead , the flowers to renew ? Thou , though the scorchingh eate of Summers Sunne , ( While ill-breath'd Dog the raging Lyon chaseth ) Thy peckled flowers do make of colour dun , And pride of all thy greeny hayre defaceth : And in thy moysture wanting side , Deepe wounds do make and gashes wide : Yet as they weat , By Phoebus heate , To turne to wholesome drynesse is procured . So Phoebus heate By South-winds weate Is soone asswaged , and all thy wounds recured . Such heate as Phaebus hath me almost slaine . As Phaebus heate ? ah no , farre worse then his . It is Astreas burning-hot disdaine That parched hath the roote of all my blisse : That hath ( alas ) my youth defaced , That in my face deep wounds hath placed Ah that no heat Can dry the weat The flowing weate of my still weeping eyes ! Ah that no weate Can quench the heate , The burning heate within my heart that lies ! Thou dost , poore wretch , beare many a bitter stound , While greedy swaines forgetting former neede , With crooked plowes thy tender backe do wound , With harrowes biting teeth do make thee bleede , But earth ( so may those greedy swaynes With piteous eye behold thy paines ) O earth , tell me . When thou dost see , Thy fruitfull backe with golden eares beset , Doth not that ioy Kill all annoy , And make thee all thy former wounds forget ? And I , if once my tired heart might gaine The haruest faire that to my faith is due : If once I might Astreas grace regaine : If once her heart would on my sorrowes rue , Alas , I could these plaints forgoe , And quite forget my former woe . But ( O! to speake My heart doth breake ) For all my seruice , faith , and patient mind , A crop of griefe , Without reliefe , A crop of scorne , and of contempt I finde . Soone as the Shepheards starre abroad doth wend , ( Nights harbinger ) to shut in brightsome day : And gloomy night , on whom blacke clouds attend , Doth Tyrant-like through sky vsurpe the sway . Thou art ( poore earth ) of sunne depriued Whose beames to thee all ioy deriued . But when Aurore Doth ope her dore , Her purple doore to let in Phoebus waine , The night giues place Vnto his race , And then with ioy the Sunne returnes againe . O would my Sunne would once returne againe ! Returne and driue away th' infernall night , In which I dye , since she did first refraine Her heauenly beames which were mine onely light . In her alone all my light shin'd , And since she shin'd not , I am blind . Alas , on all , Her beames do fall . Saue wretched me , whom she doth them deny . And blessed day She giues alway , To all , but me , who still in darkenesse lie . In mourneful darknesse I alone do lie , And wish , but scarcely hope , bright day to see , For hop'd so long , and wish't so long haue I , As hopes and wishes both abandon mee . My night hath lasted fifteene yeares . And yet no glimpse of day appeares . O doe not let , Him that hath set His ioy , his light , his life in your sweete grace , Be vnrelieu'd , And quite depriu'd Of your deare sight , which may this night displace . Phoebus , although with fiery hoosed steedes , Thou daylie doe the sleepy Welkin beate , And from this painefull taske art neuer freede . But dailye bound to lend the world thy heate : Though thou in fierie chariot ride , And burning heate thereof abide , Yet soone as night Doth dim the light , And hale her fable Cloake through vaulted skie , Thy iourne's ceast , And thou doest rest , In cooling waues of Thetis soueraigntie . Thrice happy Sun whose paines are eas'd by night , O haplesse I , whose woes last night and day . My paines by day doe make me wish for night , My woes by night , doe make me cry for day . By day I turmoile vp and downe , By night in seas of teares I drowne : O painefull plight ! O wretched night , Which neuer finds a morne of ioyfull light : O sad decay , O wretched day , That neuer feeles the case of silent night ! Ye chirping Birds , whose notes might ioy my mind . ( If to my mind one drop of ioy could sinke ) Who erst through Winters rage were almost pinde , And kept through barren frost from meate or drinke , A blessed change ye now haue seene , That changed hath your wofull teene , By day you sing . And make to ring The neighbour groues with Eccho of your song , In silent night , Full closely dight , You soundly sleepe the bushes greene among . But I , who erst ( ah wofull word to say ) Enioy'd the pleasant spring of her sweete grace , And then could sing and dance and sport and play : Since her fierce anger did my spring di●place : My nightly rest haue turn'd to detriment , To plaints hath turn'd my wonted merriment . The Songs I sing While day doth spring , Are bootlesse plaints till I can plaine no more . The rest I tast , While night doth last , Is broken sighes , till they my heart make sore . Thou flower of the field that erst didst fade , And nipt with Northerne cold didst hang the head : And trees whose bared bowes haue lost their shade , Whose withered leaues by westerne blasts were shed , Ye'gin to bud and spring againe . Winter is gone that did you straine . But I that late With vpright gate , Bare vp my head , while happy fauour lasted : Now old am growne Now ouerthrowne , With woe , with griefe , with wailing now am wasted . Your springing stalke with kindly ioyce doth sprout , My fainting legs doe wast and fall away : Your stretched armes are clad with leaues about , My griefe-consumed armes doe fast decay . You gin againe your tops lift vp ; I downe to earth-ward gin to stoope . Each bowe and twig Doth waxe so big . That scarce the rinde is able it to hide : I doe so faint , And pine with plaint , That slops and hose , and Galage wax too wide . Eccho , how well may she that makes me mone , By thy example learne to rue my paine ? Thou hearst , my plaints when as I waile alone , And wailing accents answerest againe . When as my breast through griefe I beate , That wofull sound thou dost repeate , When as I sob , And heartly throb , A dolefull sobbing sound againe thou sendest : And when I weepe , And sigh full deepe , A weepy , sighing voyce againe thou lendest . But ah ! how oft haue my sad plaints assaide , To pierce her eares , deafe onely vnto me ? How oft my woes in mournefull inke arraide , Haue tride to make her eyes my griefes to see ? And you my sighes and teares , how often Haue ye sought her hard heart to soften ? And yet her eye , Doth still deny , For all my woes one bitter teare to shed : And yet her heart Will not impart , One hearty sigh for griefe her selfe hath bred . Nor I , alas , do wish that her faire eyes , Her blessed making eyes should shed a teare , Nor that one sigh from her deare brest should rise , For all the paines , the woes , the wrongs I beare . First ●e this weight oppresse me still , Ere she through me taste any ill . Ah if I might But gaine her fight , And shew her ere I dye , my wretched case : O then should I , Contented die : But ah I dye , and hope not so much grace . With that his fainting legs to shrinke begun , And let him sinke with gas●ly looke to ground And there he lay as though his life were done , Till that his Dog , seeing that woofull stound With pitteous howling , kissing , and with scraping , Brought him againe from that sweete sowre escaping . Then gan his teares so swiftly for to flow , As forst his eie-lids for to giue them way , Then blustring sighs too boystrously gan blow , And his weake lips could not his furie stay , And inward griefe withall so hugely swel'd , As teares , sighs , griefe had soone all words expeld . At last when flouds of teares began to cease , And stormes of weary sighs more calme to blow As he went on with words his griefe to ease . And remnant of his broken plaint to shew : He spide the skye ore-spred with nightly cloude , So home he went , his flock and him to shrowde .

Enbulus his Embleme .

Vni mihi Pergama Restant . F.D.
VII . PASTORALL . Eglogue intituled Cuddy . 1 A Little Heard-groome ( for he was no bett ) When course of yeare return'd the pleasant spring , At breake of day without-en further lett Cast with himselfe his flock a field to bring , And for they had so long beene pent with paine . At sight of Sun they seem'd to liue againe . 2 Such was the flocke all bent to brouse and play , But nothing such their master was to see . Downe hung his drouping head like rainy day , His cheekes with teares like springs bedewed be . His wringed hands such silent moue did make , Well may you guesse he was with loue y'take . The while his flocke went feeding on the greene , And wantonly for ioy of Summer plaide , All in despight as if he n'ould be seene , He cast himselfe to ground full ill appaide . Should seeme their pleasance made him more complaine , For ioy in sight not felt , is double paine . 4 Vnhappy boy why liu'st thou still , quoth he , And hast thy deadly wound so long agoe ? What hope of after hap sustaineth thee ? As if there might be found some ease of woe . Nay better dye ten thousand times then liue . Since euery houre new cause of death doth giue . 5 The ioyfull Sunne , whom cloudy winters spight , Had shut from vs in watry fishes haske , Returnes againe to lend the world his light , And red as rose begins his yearely taske . His fiery steedes the steepy welkin beate , And both the hornes of climing bull doe heate . 6 But ah ! no Sunne of grace appeares to me , Close hid she lies , from whom I should haue light , The cloudes of blacke disdaine so foggy be , That blind I lye ( poore boy ) bereft of sight : And yet I see the Sunne I seeke to find , And yet the more I see , the more am blind . 7 Thrice happy ground , whom spoyld with winters rage , The heat of pleasant spring renewes againe : Vnhappy I , who in my spring of age , The frost of cold despaire hath wel-nigh slaine . How shall I bide your stormy winters smart , When spring it selfe hath frorne my bloodlesse heart ? 8 I see the beauty of thy flowers renew , Thy mantle greene with sundry colours spred , Thou seest in me a change of former hew , Palenesse for white , blacknesse for liuely red . What hope of haruest fruit , or Summer flowers , Since that my spring is drownd with teares like showers ? 9 And last of all , but lieu'st of all to me , Thou leany flocke , that didst of late lament , And witnesse wast for shepheards all to see , ( Thy knees so weak , thy fleece so rough & rent ) That thou with paine didst pine away vnfed , All for thy master was with loue misled . 10 Now 'ginst as earst forget thy former state , And range amid the buskes thy selfe to feed , Faire fall thee little flocke , both rathe and late , ( Was neuer Louers sheep , that well did speed ) Thou free , I bound , thou glad , I pine in paine , I striue to die , and thou to liue full faine . 11 Woe worth the stund , wherein I tooke delight , To frame the shifting of my nimble feete , To cheerefull sound of Pipe in Moone-shine night , Such pleasance past at erst does garme greet . I ween'd by night haue shun'd the parching ray , But night it selfe was twice more hot then day . 12 Then first of all ( and all too soone for me ) I saw thilke Lasse , yea more then saw her too , Her Christall eyes more bright then Moone to see , Her eyes , her eyes , through which I am vndoo . On them I gaz'd , then saw I to my cost , Through too much sight mine onely sight is lost . 13 Where beene the dapper ditties that I dight , And Roundelaies , and Virelaies so foot ? Whilome with Collins selfe compare I might , For other swaine , to striue was little boot , Such skill I had in making all aboue But all too little skill to conquer loue . 14 What helps it me to haue my piping praiz'd Of all saue her , whom onely I would please ? Nought care I though my fame to sky be raiz'd For pleasant song that brings my heart no ease . Wherefore both Pipe and song I all forsweare , And former pleasance vtterly forbeare . 15 With that he cast his looke to Welkin high , And saw the doubled shadowes flie away : And as he glanst halfe in despight awry , He spide the Shepheards starre shut in the day : Then rose , and homeward with his flocke him went , Whose voyce did helpe their masters case lament .
VIII . PASTORALL . Made long since vpon the death of Sir Philip Sidney . Thenot. Perin . PERIN , arred what new mischance betide , Hath reft thee of thy wonted meriment ? Faire feeds thy flock this pleasant spring beside , Nor loue , I weene , hath made thee discontent , Sild age and loue , doe meete in one consent . Perin . Ah Thenot , where the Ioy of heart doth faile , What maruaile there , if mirth and musicke quaile ? See how the flowers of the field do spring , The purple Rose , the Lilly white as snow , With smell and colour for an haruest King , May serue to make vs young againe , I trow : Yet all this pride is quickly laid full low . Soone as the roote is nipt with northerne cold , What smell , or beauty , can we then behold ? Thenot. As good not heare , as heard , not vnderstand , My borrell braines through old beene all too dull , Sike mister meaning nill by me be scand , All as my face , so wrinkled is my skull , Then say me Perin , by the hope of Wull . And by thine Ewes blowne bags , and bag pipes sound , So not one Aneling in thy flocke be found . Perin . Ah Thenot , by thine all-derliefest Lasse , Or whatsoeuer is more deere to thee : No bagpipe name , let song and solace passe , Death hath vndone my flock , my pipe , and me , Dead is the sheeps delight , the shepheards glee , Broke is my pipe , and I my selfe forlorne My sheepe vnfed , their fleeces rent and torne . Thenot. I mickle mus'd such vncoth change to see , My flocks refus'd to feede , yet hale they were : The tender Birds sate drouping on the tree , The carelesse Lambs went wandring heere and there . My selfe vnknowne a part of griefe did beare , Ne wist I why yet heauy was my heart , Vntimely death was cause of all this smart Vp Perin , vp , aduance my mournefull layes , Sound loud thy pipe , but sound it dolefull wise . Perin . Who else but Thenot can the Muses raise , And teach them sing and dance in mournefull guise My fingers stiffe , my voyce doth horsely rise . Thenot. All where is Collin and his passing skill ? For him it fits our sorrow to fulfill . Perin . T'way sore extreames for Collin presse so neere , ( Alas that such extreames should presse him so ) The want of wealth and losse of loue so deere , Scarse can he breath from vnder heapes of woe , He that beares heauen , beares no such weight I trow . Thenot. Hath he such skill in making all aboue , And hath no skill to get , or Wealth or Loue ? Perin . Praise is the greatest prise that Poets gaine , A simple gaine that feedes them ne're a whit . The wanton Lasse for whom he bare such paine , Like running water loues to change and flit . But if thou list to heare a sorry fit , Which Cuddy could in dolefull verse endite , Blow thou thy pipe while I the same recite . Thenot. Gin when thou list , all be my skill but small , My forward mind shall make amends for all . Perin . Ye Nimphs that bath your bodies in this spring : Your tender bodies white as driuen snow : Ye virgins chast which in this groue doe sing , Which neither griefe of Loue nor death do know : So may your streames run cleere for aye , So may your trees giue shade alway . D●part a space , And giue me place , To waile with griefe my restlesse woe alone , For feare my cryes Constraine your eyes To shed forth teares , and help lament my mone . And thou , my Muse , that whilome wont to ease , Thy M●sters mind with l●ies of sweete delight , Now change those tunes , no ioy my heart can please ? Gone is the day , come is the darksome night , Our Sunne close hid in clouds doth lie , We liue indeed , but liuing die : No light we see , Yet wander wee , We wander farre and neare without a guide : And all astray , We loose our way , For in this world n'is such a Sunne beside . Ye shepheards boyes that lead your flocks a field The whilst your sheep feed safely round about , Breake me your Pipes that pleasant sound did yeeld , Sing now no more the songs of Colin Clout . Lament the end of all our ioy , Lament the source of all annoy . Willey is dead , That wont to lead Our flockes and vs in mirth and shepheards glee : Well could he sing , Well dance , and spring , Of all the shepheards was none such as hee . How often hath his skill in pleasant song , Drawne all the water-nymphs from out their bowers ? How haue they laine the tender grasse along , And made him Garlands gay of smelling flowers . Phoebus himselfe that conquer'd Pan , Striuing with Willy , nothing wan . Me thinkes I see The time when hee Pluckt from his golden lockes his Lawrell Crowne , And so to raise , Our Willies praise , Bedeckt his head , and softly set him downe . The learned Muses flocke to heare his skill , And quite forgot their water , wood , and mount , They thought his songs were done too quickly still , Of none but Willies pipe they made account . He song , they seem'd in ioy to flow , He ceast , they seem'd to weepe for woe , The rurall rout , All round about , Like Bees came swarming thicke , to heare him sing . Ne could they thinke , On meate or drinke , While Willies musicke in their eares did ring . But now ( alas ) such pleasant mirth is past , Apollo weepes , the Muses rend their haire . Mo ioy on earth that any time can last , See where his breathles corps lies on the beare . That selfesame hand that rest his life , Hath turn'd shepheards peace to strife . Our ioy is fled Our life is dead , Our hope , our helpe , our glory all is gone : Our Poets praise Our happy dayes , And nothing left but griefe , to thinke thereon What Thames , what Seuerne , or what westerne Seas , Shall giue me flouds of trickling teares to shed ? What comfort can my restlesse griefe appease , O that mine eyes were fountaines in my head ! Ah Collin ! I lament thy case , For thee remaines no hope of grace . The best reliefe Of Poets griefe : Is dead , and wrapt full cold in filthy clay , And nought remaines To ease our paines , But hope of death to rid vs hence away . Phillis , thine is the griefe , aboue the rest , Where bin thy sweetest Posies featly dight , Thy Garlands with a true-loues knot addrest , And all that e●st thou Willie didst behight ? Thy labour all is lost in vaine The griefe wherof shal aye remaine The sun so bright , That falls to night , To morrow from the East againe shall rise , But we decay , And wast away , Without returne , alas our Willie dies . See how the drooping flocks refuse to feede , The riuers streame with teares about the bankes : The trees do shed their leaues , to waile agreed , The Beasts vnfed goe mourning all in rankes , The sunne denies the earth his light The spring is kil'd with winters might : The flowers spill , The Birds are still , No voyce of ioy is heard in any place . The Medowes greene , A chang haue seene , And florn hides her pale disfigured face Watch now ye shepheards Boyes with waking eye And loose your time of sleepe to learne to sing . Vnhappy skill , what good is got thereby But painted praise that can no profit bring ? If skill could moue the sisters three , Our willie still aliue should be . The wolfe so wood Amazed stood , At sound of Willies pipe , and left his prey : Both pipe and Skill The sisters spill , So worse then any wicked Wolfe are they . O flattring hope of mortall mens delight , So faire in outward shew , so foule within ! The deepest streames do flow full calme to sight , The rauening Wolues do ict in Weathers skin . We deem'd our Willy aye should liue , So sweete a sound his Pipe could giue : But cruell death Hath stopt his breath : Dumbe lies his Pipe that wont so sweete to sound : Our flocks lament His life is spent , And carelesse wander all the woods a round . Come ye Shepheards daughters , come no more , To heare the songs that Cuddy wont to sing : Hoarse is my Muse , my throat with crying sore , These woods with eccho of my griefe do●ing . Your Willies life was Cuddies ioy , Your Willies death hath kild the boy : Broke lies my Pipe Till reedes be ripe To make a new one , but a worse I feare : Saue yeare by yeare , To waile my De●re , All Pipe and song I vtterly forsweare . Thenot. Alack and weladay may shepheards cry Our Willy dead , our Collin kild with care : Who shall not loath to liue , and long to die ? And will not griefe our little Cuddy spare , But must he too of sorrow haue a share ? Aye how his ruefull verse hath prickt my heart ! How feelingly hath he exprest our smart . Perin . Ah Thenot hadst thou seene his sorry looke , His wringed hands his eyes to heauen vpkest , His teares that streem'd like water in the brooke , His sighs that made his rimes seeme rudely drest . To teares thou wouldst haue melted with the rest . But hie we homeward , night approacheth neare , And rainy clouds in southerne skyes appeare . A. W.
IX . PASTORALL Shepheard . Heardman . COme gentle heard man , sit by me And rune thy Pipe by mine Heere vnder neath this Willow tree , To shield the hot Sun shine , where I haue made my summer bower , For proose of Summer beame , And deckt it vp with many a flower , Sweet seated by the streames . Where gentle Daphne once a day , These flowry bankes doth walke And in her bosome beares away The pride of many a stalke . But leaues the humble heart behind , That should her garland dight : And she sweet soule the more vnkind To set true loues so light , But whereas others beare the Bell , As in her fauour blest : Her shepheard loueth her as well , As those whom she loues best , Heard-man . A Las poore Pastor , I finde , Thy loue is lodg'd so high , That on thy flock thou hast no mind But feedst a wanton eye . If dainty Daphnes lookes besot Thy doating hearts desire , Be sure , that farre aboue thy lot , Thy liking doth aspire . To loue so sweet a Nymph as she , And looke for loue againe : Is fortune fitting high degree , Not for a shepheards swaine . For she of Lordly lad's becoyd , And sought of great estates , Her fauour scornes to be enioyd By vs poore lowly Mates . Wherefore I warne thee to be wise , Go with me to my walke , Where lowly Lasses be not nice , There like and chuse thy Make. Wher are no pearles nor gold to view No pride of silken sight , But peticoats of Scarlet hew , Which vaile the skin snow white . There truest Lasses been to get For loue and little cost : There sweete desire is paid his det , And labour seldome lost . Shepheard . NO heardman , no , thou ran'st too loud Our trade so vile to hold My weed as great a heart doth shroud As his thats clad in gold . And take the truth that I thee tell , This song faire Daphne sings That Cupid will be seru'd as well , Of Shepheards as of Kings . For proofe wherof , old books record , That Venus Queene of loue , Would set aside her warlike Lord , And youthfull Pastors proue . How Paris was as well belou'd , A simple shepheards Boy , As after when as he was prou'd , King Priams sonne of Troy . And therefore haue I better hope , A● had those Lads of y'ore , 〈◊〉 courage takes as large a scope , Although their haps were more . A●● for thou shalt not deeme I lest , And beare a mind more base , ●o meaner hope shal haunt my brest , Then dearest Daphnes grace . My mind no other thought retaines , Mine eye nought else admires , My heart no other passion straines , Nor other hap desires . My muse of nothing else intreates , My Pipe nought else can sound , My veines no other feauer heates , Such faith 's in shepheards sound . Heardman . AH sh pheard then , I see with griefe thy can is past all cure , No remedy for thy reliefe , But patiently endure . Thy wonted liberty is fled , Fond fancy breeds thy bane , Thy sense of folly brought a bed , Thy wit is in thy wane . I am but ●orrow for thy sake , Since loue lulls thee asleepe , And whilst out of thy dreame thou wake , God shield thy straying sheep . Thy wretched flock may rue and curse , This proud desire of thine , Whose wofull state from bad to worse Thy carelesse eye will pine . And euen as they , thy selfe likewise With them shall weare and waste , To see the spring before thine eyes , Thou thirsty canst not tast . Content thee therefore with conceit , Where others gaine the grace , And thinke thy fortune at the height , To see but Daphnes face . Although thy truth deserued well , Reward aboue the rest , Thy haps shall be but meanes to tell How other men are blest . So gentle shepheard farewell now , Be warned by my reed , For I see written in thy brow , Thy heart for loue doth bleede . Yet longer with thee would I stay , If ought would doe thee good , But nothing can the heare allay , Where loue enflames the blood . Shepheard . THen Heardman since it is my lot , And my good liking such , Striue not to breake the faithful knot , that thinks no paine too much , For what contents my Daphnes best I neuer will despise : So she but wish my soule good rest When death shall close mine eyes . Then Heardman farewel once again , For now the day is fled : So might thy cares , poore shepheards Swaine , Flye from thy carefull head .
X. PASTORALL . The beginning and end of this Eglogue are wanting . Concerning old Age . Perin . FOr when thou art not as thou wont of yo 're , No cause why life should please thee any more . Whilome I was ( in course of former yeeres , Ere freezing Eld had coold my youthfull rage ) Of mickle worth among my shepheards peeres . Now for I am some dele ' y stept in age , For pleasance , strength , and beauty gins asswae . Each little heard-groome laughs my wrinckled face , Each bonny lasse for Cuddy shuns the place : For all this woe none can me iustly twight . But hatefull Eld the foe to pleasant rest , Which like a thiefe doth rob vs of delight . Wrenocke . Perin enough , few words be alwayes best . Needs must be borne that cannot be redrest . Selfe am I as thou seest in thilke estate , The griefe is each to beare that haz a mate : But sicker for to speake the truh indeede , Thou seemst to blame , that blamelesse seemes to me . And hurtlesse Eld to sneb ( ill mought he speed , That slaies the Dog , for Wolues so wicked be ) The faults of men thou laist on age I see , For which if Eld werein it selfe to blame , Then I and all my Peeres should taste the same . Perin . Wrenock , I weene thou doat'st through rusty Eld , And think'st with fained words to bleere mine eye , Thou for thy store art euer blessefull held , Thy heapes of gold , nill let thee sorrow spie , Thy flocks full safe heere vnder shade do lie , Thy weanelings fat , thine ewes with bladder blowne : A iollier shepheard haue we seldome knowne , Wrenocke . For thilke my store , great Pan y'herried be : But if for thee , mine age with ioy I beare , How falls it that thy selfe vnlike to me , Art vexed so with griefe and bootlesse feare ? Thy store will let thee sleepe on either eare . But neither want makes age to wisemen hard , Nor fooles by wealth from grieuous paines are bar'd . Perin . Seest not how free yond' Lambkin skips and playes : And wags his taile , and buts with tender head : All for he feeles the heate of youngthly dayes , Which secret law of kind hath inly bred ? Thilke Ewe from whom all ioy with youth is fled , See how it hangs the head , as it would weepe , Whilome it skipt , vneaths now may it creepe . Wrenocke . No fellowship hath state of beasts with man , In them is nought but strength of lim and bone , Which ends with age , as it with age began . But man they say'ne ( as other creature none ) Hath vncouth fire conuai'd from heauen by one , ( His name I wist ) that yeelds him inward light , Sike fire as Welkin shewes in winter night . Which neither age nor time can weare away , Which waxeth bett ' for vse , as Shepheards crooke , That euer shineth brighter day by day : Also though wrinckled seemes the aged looke , Bright shines the fire that from the stars we tooke . And sooth to say , thilke Ewe laments the paine , That thilke same wanton Lambe is like sustaine . Perin . Ah Thenot be not all thy teeth on edge , To see yongths folke to sport in pastimes gay ? To pitch the Barre , to throw the weighty sledge , To dance with Phillis all the holy-day , To hunt by day the Foxe , by night the Gray ? Sike peerelesse pleasures wont vs for to queame . Now lig we laid , as drown'd in heauy dreame .
The end of the Pastorals .
Of Elegies .
I. ELEGIE . He renounceth his food , and former delight in Musicke , Poefie and painting . SItting at boord , sometimes prepar'd to eate , If 't hap my mind on these my woes to thinke , Sighs fill my mouth instead of pleasant meate , And teares do moyst my lips in lieu of drinke : But yet , nor sighs , nor te●res that run amaine , Can either starue my thoughts , or quench my paine . Another time with carefull thought o're-tane , I thought these thoughts with musicks might ro chase : But as I gan to set my notes in frame , A sudden passion did my mind displace . In stead of Rests , sighs from my heart did rise , In stead of Notes , deepe sobs , and mournefull cries . Then , when I saw , that these my thoughts increas'd , And that my thoughts vnto my woes gaue fire , I hop't both thoughts and woes might be releas'de , If to the Muses I did me retire : Whose sweet delights were wont to case my woe , But now ( alas ) they could do nothing so . For trying oft ( alas ) yet still in vaine . To make some pleasant numbers to arise , And beating oft my dullen weary braine , In hope some sweete conceit for to deuise : Out of my mouth no words but grones would come . Out of my pen no inke but teares would runne . Of all my old delights yet one was left , Painting alone to ease my mind remain'd : By which , when as I lookt to be bereft Of these heart vexing woes that still me strain'd , From forth mine eyes the bloud for colour came , And teares withall to temper so the same . Adieu my foode that wontst my soule to please , Adieu my songs that bred my eares delight , Adieu sweete Muse that oft my mind didst ease , Painting adieu , that oft refresht my sight , Since neither taste , nor eares , nor sight , nor mind , In your delights can ought saue sorrow find .
II. ELEGIE . For what cause he obtaines his Ladies fauour . DEeare , why hath my long loue and faith vnfained , At your faire hands no grace at all obtained ? I' st , that my Pock-hol'd face doth beauty lack ? No Your sweete Sex , sweete beauty praiseth : Ours wit and valour chiefely raiseth . I' st that my musk-lesse cloathes are plaine and blacke ? No. What wise Lady loues fine noddies , With poore clad minds , and rich clad bodies ? I st , that no costly gifts mine Agents are ? No. My true Heart , which I present you , Should more then pearle or gold content you . I st , that my verses want inuention rare ? No. I was neuer skilfull Poet , I truely loue , and plainely shew it . I st , that I vaunt , or am effeminate , O scornefull vices I abhor you . Dwell still in court the place fit for you . I st , that you feare my loue soone turnes to hate ? No. Though disdain'd , I can hate neuer , But lou'd , where once I loue , loue euer . I st , that your fauours iealous eyes suppresse ? No. only vertue neuer sleeping , Both your faire minds and bodies keeping . I st , that to many more I loue professe ? Goddesse , you haue my hearts oblation . And no Saint else lips inuocation . No , none of these , the cause I now discouer : No woman loues a faithfull worthy Louer .
III. ELEGIE . To his Lady who had vowed virginity . EV'n as my hand my Pen and paper layes , My trembling hand , my Pen from Paper stayes , Least that thine eyes which shining made me loue you , Should frowning on my sute bid cease to moue you , So that I feare like one at his wits end , Hoping to gaine , and fearing to offend , What pleaseth hope , the same despaire mislikes , What hope sets downe , those lines despaire out strikes , So that my nursing murthering Pen affords , A graue and cradle to my new borne words . But whilst as clouds tost vp and downe the aire , I racked hang t'wixt hope and sad dispaire , Despaire is beaten , vanquisht from the field , And vnto conqu'ring hope my heart doth yeeld . For if that Nature loue to beauty offers , And Beauty shunne the loue that nature proffers : Then , either vniust beauty is to blame , With scorne to quench a lawfull kindled flame . Or else vnlawfully if loue we must , And be vnlou'd then nature is vniust . Vniustly then nature hath hearts created , There to loue most , where most their loue is hated , And flattring them with a faire seeming ill , To poyson them with beauties sugred Pill ▪ Thinke you that beauties admirable worth Was to no end , or idle end brought forth ? No no from nature neuer deede did passe , But it with wisedomes hand subscribed was . But you in vaine are faire , if faire , not viewed , Or being seene , mens hearts be not subdued , Or making each mans heart your beauties thra ' , You be enioye'd of no one at all , For as the Lyons strength to seaze his pray , And fearefull hearts light-foote to runne away , Are as an idle talent but abused , And fruitlesse had , if had , they be not vsed : So you in vaine haue beauties bonds to shew , By which , mens eyes engaged hearts do owe , If time shall cancell them before you gaine Th' indebted tribute to your beauties raine . But if ( these reasons being vainely spent ) You fight it out to the last argument , Tell me but how one body can enclose , As louing friends two deadly hating foes ? But when as contraries are mixt together , The colour made , doth differ much from either . Whilst mutually at strife they doe impeach The glasse and lustre proper vnto each . So , where one body ioyntly do inuest An Angels face , and cruell Tigers brest , There dieth both allegeance and command , For selfe deuided Kingdomes cannot stand . But as a child that knowes not what is what , Now craueth this and now affecteth that , And hauing weighs not that which he requires , But is vnpleasde , euen in his pleasde desires . Chaste beauty so , both will , and will not haue The selfe-same thing it childishly doth craue : And wanton-like , now loue , now hate affecteth , And loue or hate obtain'd as fast neglecteth , So ( like the web Penelope did weaue , Which made by day , she did at night bereaue ) Fruitlesse affections , endlesse threed is spunne , At one selfe instant twisted , and vndone . Nor yet is this chaste beauties greatest ill . For where it speaketh faire , it there doth kill . A marble heart vnder an amorous looke , Is of a flattering baite the murthering hooke : For from a Ladies shining-frowning eyes , Deaths sable dart , and Cupids arrow flyes : Since then , from Chastity and Beauty spring , Such muddy streames , where each doth reigne as King ▪ Let tyrant chastities vsurped throne , Be made the seate of beauties grace alone : And let your beauty be with this suffie'd , Raze not my heart , nor to your beauty raise , Blood-guilded Trophees of your beauties praise : For wisest Conquerors doe townes desire , On honorable termes , and not with fire .
IIII. ELEGIE . Her praise is in her want . Shee onely is the pride of natures skill : In none but her , all graces friendlie meete . In all saue her , may Cupid haue his will , By none but her is fancy vnder feete . Most strange of all her praise is in her want , Her heart that should be flesh , is Adamant . Laudo quod lugeo .
V. ELEGIE . Of a womans heart . O Faithlesse world , and thy most faithlesse part , A womans heart : The true shop of variety , where sits , Nothing but fits , And feauers of desire , and pangs of loue , Which toyes remoue , Why was she borne to please , or I to trust Words writ in dust ? Suffring her eyes to gouerne my despaire , My paine for aire , And fruit of time rewarded with vntruth , The foode of youth Vntrue she was , yet I beleeu'd her eyes , Instructed spies , Till I was taught that loue was but a schoole , To breede a foole . Or sought she more then triumphs of deniall , To see a tryall , How far her smiles commanded my weaknes : yeeld and confesse . Excuse not now thy folly , nor her nature : Blush and endure Aswel thy shames , passions that were vaine And thinke thy gaine , To know that loue lodg'd in a womans brest Is but a guest .
VI. ELEGIE . Loues Embasie in an Iambicke Elegie . VNhappy verse ! the witnesse of vnhappy state , Make thy self fluttring wings of thy fast flying thoght And flye forth vnto my loue wheresoeuer she be . Whether lying restlesse in heauy bed , or else Sitting so cheerelesse at the cheerefull boord or else Playing alone carelesse on her heauenly Virginals . If in bed , tell her that mine eyes can take no rest : If at boord , tell her that my mouth can taste no food , If at her Virginals , tell her I can heare no mirth . Asked why , say waking Loue suffereth no sleepe : Say that raging Loue doth appall the weake stomacke : Say that lamenting loue marreth the Musicall . Tell her , that her pleasures were wont to lull me asleepe , Tell her , that her beauty was wont to feed mine eyes : Tell her , that her sweet tong was wont to make me mirth . Now do I nightly waste , wanting my kindly rest : Now do I daily starue , wanting my liuely food : Now do I alwaies die , wanting my timely mirth . And if I waste , who will bewaile my heauy chance ? And if I starue , who will record my cursed end ? And if I die , who will say , this was Immerito : Edmund Spencer .
The end of the third Booke .
THE FOVRTH BOOKE OF Madrigals and Odes .
I. MADRIGALL . THough you be not content That I ( poore worme ) should loue you , As Cupids power , and your sweete beauty cause me , Yet ( deere ) let pitty moue you To giue me your consent . To loue my life , as law of nature drawes me , And if my life I loue , then must I too Loue your sweete selfe , for my life liues in you .
II. MADRIGALL . Borrowed out of a Greeke Epigram . HEe 's rich enough whose eyes behold thee , Who heares thee sing a Monarch is A Demy-God who doth thee kisse , And loue himselfe whose armes infold thee .
III. MADRIGALL . Vpon her dreaming that she saw him dead . O Faire , yet murdring eyes , Starres of my miseries , Who while night clouds your beames , How much you wish my death shew in your dreames : Is' t not enough that waking you do spill me , But you asleepe must kill me ? O kill me still while you your sleepe are taking , So you lend me kind lookes when you are waking . The sound of thy sweet name , my dearest treasure , Delights me more then sight of other faces , A glimpse of thy sweete face breedes me more pleasure , Then any others kindest words and graces . One gracious word that from thy lips proceedeth , I value more then others Doue-like kisses : And thy chast kisse in my conceit exceedeth , Others embraces and loues chiefest blisses .
IIII. MADRIGALL . Vpon his departure . SVre ( Deere ) I loue you not , for he that loueth , When he from her doth part That 's Mistresse of his heart , A deadly paine a hellish torment prooueth . But when sad Fates did seuer Me farre from seeing you I would see euer , I felt in my absenting No paine nor no tormenting . For sence of paine how could he find , That left his heart and soule behind ?
V. MADRIGALL . To Cupid . LOue if a God thou art , Then euermore thou must , Be mercifull and iust . If thou be iust , O wherefore doth thy Dart Wound mine alone , and not my Ladies heart ? If mercifull , then why Am I to paine reseru'd , Who haue thee truely seru'd : While she that by thy power sets not a flye , Laughs thee to scorne , and liues at liberty . Then , if a God thou wilt accounted be , Heale me like her , or else wound her like me .
VI. MADRIGALL . Vpon his Mistresse sicknesse , and his owne health . IN health and ease am I , Yet , as I senselesse were , it nought contents me . You sicke in paine doe lie , And ( ah ) your paine exceedingly torments me . Whereof , I can this onely reason giue , That dead vnto my selfe , in you I liue .
VII . MADRIGALL . He begs a kisse . SOrrow slowly killeth any , Sodaine ioy soone murthers many . Then ( sweete ) if you would end me , T is a fond course with lingring griefe to spend me . For , quickly to dispatch me , Your onely way is , in your armes to catch me , And giue me doue-like kisses , For such excessiue and vnlookt-for blisses , Will so much ouer-ioy me , As they will straight destroy me .
VIII . MADRIGALL . Vpon a kisse receiued . SInce I your cherry lips did kisse , Where Nectar and Ambrosia is , My hungry maw no meate requires : My thirsty throate no drinke desires . For by your breath which then I gained , Camelion like my life 's maintained . O grant me then those cherries still , And let me feed on them my fill . If by a surfeit death I get , Vpon my tombe let this be set : By cherries twaine his life he cherisht , By cherries twaine at length he perisht .
IX . MADRIGALL . Allusion to the confusion of Babell . THE wretched life I liue In my weake sences such confusion maketh That like the accursed rabble , That built the Towre of Bable . My wit mistaketh , And vnto nothing a right name doth giue . I terme her my deere loue , that deadly hates me , My chiefest good , her that 's my chiefest euill , Her Saint and Goddesse , who 's a Witch , a Deuill : Her my sole hope , that with despaire amates me . My Balme I call her , that with poyson fils me , And her I terme my life , that dailie kils me .
X. MADRIGALL . To her hand , vpon her giuing him her gloue . O Hand of all hands liuing , The softest , moystest , whitest : More skil'd then Phoebus on a Lute in running : More then Minerua , with a Needle cunning : Then Mercury more wily , In stealing hearts most slily . Since thou deere hand , in theft so much delightest , Why fall'st thou now a giuing ? Ay me ! thy gifts are thefts , and with strange Art , In giuing me thy Gloue , thou steal'st my Hart.
XI . MADRIGALL . Cupid proued a Fencer . AH Cupid I mistooke thee , I for an Archer , and no Fencer tooke thee . But as a Fencer oft faines blowes and thrusts , Where he intends no harme : Then turnes his balefull arme , And wounds that part which least his foe mistrusts . So thou with fencing art , Fayning to wound mine eyes , hast hit my hart .
XII . MADRIGALL . He compares himselfe to a Candle flye . LIke to the seely flye , To the deere light I flye Of your disdainefull eyes , But in a diuerse wise She with the flame doth play , By night alone ; and I both night and day . She to a candle runnes : I to a light , farre brighter then the Sunnes . She neere at hand is fired : I both neere hand , and farre away retyred . She fondly thinkes , nor dead , nor burnt to be , But I my burning and my death foresee .
XIIII . MADRIGALL . Answeres to her question , what Loue was . IF I behold your Eyes , Loue is a Paradice : But if I view my hart , T is an infernal smart .
XIIII . MADRIGALL . Vpon his timerous silence in her presence . Are louers full of fire ? How comes it then my verses are so cold ? And how when I am nigh her , And fit occasion wils me to be bold . The more I burne , the more I do desire , The lesse I dare require ? Ah loue this is thy wondrous art , To freeze the tongue , and fire the heart .
XV. MADRIGALL . Vpon her long absence . IF this most wretched and most infernall anguish , Wherein so long your absence makes me languish , My vitall spirits spending , Do not worke out my ending , Nor yet your long-expected safe returning , To heau'nly ioy my hellish torments turning , With ioy so ouer-fill me , As presently it kill me : I will conclude , hows'euer schooles deceiue a man , No Ioy , nor Sorrow , can of life bereaue a man .
XVI . MADRIGALL . Vpon her hiding her face from him . Goe wayling Accents go , With my warme teares and scalding teares attended , T th' author of my woe , And humbly aske her , why she is offended . Say Deere , why hide you so , From him your blessed Eyes , Where he beholds his earthly Paradise , Since he hides not from you His heart wherein loues heauen you may view ?
XVII . MADRIGALL . Vpon her beauty and Inconstancy . WHosoeuer longs to try , Both loue and lealousie , My faire vnconstant Lady let him see : And he will soone a iealous louer be . Then he by proofe shall know , As I do to my woe : How they make my poore heart at once to dwell , In fire and frost , in heauen and in hell .
XVIII . MADRIGALL . THine eyes so bright Bereft my sight , When first I viewed thy face , So now my light Is turn'd to night , I stray from place to place . Then guide me of thy kindnesse , So shall I blesse my blindnesse .
XIX . MADRIGALL . Verball loue . IF loue be made of words , as woods of trees , Who more belou'd then I ? If loue be hot where true desire doth freeze , Who more then she doth fry ? Are droanes that make no hony counted Bees ? Is running water dry ? Is that a gainefull trade that has no fees ? He liue , that dead doth lye , What else but blinde is he , that nothing sees , But deafe that heares no cry , Such is her vowed loue to me , Yet must I thinke it true to be .
XX. MADRIGALL . In praise of two . FAustina hath the fairer face , And Phillida the better grace , Both haue mine eye enriched . This sings full sweetly with her voyce , Her fingers make as sweet a noyse , Both haue mine eare bewitched : Ay me ! sith Fates haue so prouided , My heart ( alas ) must be diuided .
XXI . MADRIGALL . To his Ladies garden , being absent farre from her . GArden more then Eden blessed , Art thou thus to haue thy bowers , Free'd from winter , and still dressed , With her faces heau'n-set flowers ? Happy too are those thy allies , Where her faire feet deigne to tred , Which departing earths low vallies , Shall to the milky way be led . Thy trees whose armes her embraced , And whose fruit her lips do kisse , In whose vertuous mind well placed The rare tree of knoweldge is , Happy are , so thy birds be . Whom she taught to sing by art , Who in heauenly harmony With the Angels beares a part . Happy , blest , and fortunate , Bowers , Allies , Trees , and Birds , But my most vnhappy state , Farre surmounts all reach of words .
XXII . MADRIGALL . The True loues knot . LOue is the linke the knot the band of vnity And all that loue , do loue with their belou'd to be : Loue only did decree , To change his kind in me . For though I lou'd with all the powers of my mind , And through my restles thoghts , their rest in her did find , Yet are my hopes declin'd , Sith she is most vnkind . But since her beauties Sun my fruitlesse hope did breede , By ●●●nce from that Sun I hop't to sterue that weede . Though absence did indeed My hopes not sterue , but feede , For when I shift my place , like to the stricken Deere , I cannot shift the shaft which in my side I beare : By me it resteth there The cause is not else where So haue I seene the sick to runne and turne againe , As if that outward change , could ease his inward paine : But still alas in vaine , The fit doth still remaine . Yet goodnes is the spring from whence this ill doth grow For goodnes caus'd the loue , which great respect did owe Respect true loue did show , True loue thus wrought my woe .
XXIII . MADIGALL . MY loue in her attire doth shew her wit , It doth so well become her : For euery season she hath dressings fit : For winter spring and summer , No beauty she doth misse , When all her Robes are on , But beauties selfe she is , When all her Robes are gone .
The end of the Madrigalls .
Of Odes .
I. ODE . That only her beauty and voyce please him . 1 PAssions may my iudgement bleare , Therefore sure I will not sweare , That others are not pleasing : But I speake it to my paine , And my life shall it mainetaine , None else yeelds my heart easing . 2 Ladies I do thinke there be , Other-some as faire as she , Though none haue fairer features : But my turtle-like aff●ction , Since of her I made Election , Scornes other fairest creatures . 3 Surely I will not deny , But some others reach as high With their sweete warbling voices : But since her notes charm'd mine eare , Euen the sweetest tunes I heare , To me seeme rude harsh noyses .
II. ODE . Vpon her protestation of kind affection , hauing tryed his sincere fidelitie . 1 LAdy , you are with beauties so enriched , Of body and of minde , As I can hardly find , Which of them all hath most my heart bewitched 2 Whether your skin so white , so smooth so tender , Or face well form'd and faire , Or heart ensnared haire . Or dainty hand , or legge , and foote so slender . 3 Or whether your sharpe wit and liuely spirit , Where Pride can find no place : Or your enchanting grace , Or speech , which doth true eloquence inherit . 4 Most louely all , and each of them do moue me , More then words can expresse But yet I must confesse , I loue you most , because you please to loue me .
III. ODE . His restlesse estate . YOur presence breeds my anguish , Your absence makes me languish : Your sight with woe doth fill me , And want of your sweete sight alas doth kill me . If those deare eyes that burne me , With milde aspect you turne me , For life my weake heart panteth : If frowningly , my spirit and life bloud fainteth . If you speake kindly to me , Alas kind words vndoe me : Yet silence doth dislike me , And one vnkind ill word starke dead would strike me , Thus , sunne nor shade doth ease me , Nor speech , nor silence please me : Fauours and frownes annoy me . Both want and pleasure equally destroy me .
IIII. ODE . Being by his absence in Italy depriued of her lookes , words , and gestures , be desireth her to write vnto him . MY only starre Why , why are your deare eyes , Where all my lifes peace lies , With me at warre ? Why to my ruine tending , Do they still lighten woe , On him that loues you so , 2 Hope of my heart , O whereof do the words Which your sweete tongue affords , No hope impart ? But cruell without measure , To my eternall paine , Still thunder forth disdaine , On him whose life depends vpon your pleasure . 3 Sunshine of ioy , Why do your gestures , which All eyes and hearts bewitch , My blisse destroy ? And pitties skye ore-clouding Of hate an endlesse showre On that poore heart still powre , Which in your bosome seekes this only shrowding ? 4 Blame of my wound , Why are your lines , whose sight , Should cure me with delight , My poson found . Which through my veines dispersing , Make my poore heart and mind And all my sences find A liuing death in torments past rehearsing . 5 Alas my fate Hath of your eyes leprlu'd me , Which both kil'd and reuiu'd me , And sweetned hate : Your sweete voyce , and sweete graces , Which cloath'd in louely weeds Your cruell words and deeds Are intercepted by farre distant places . 6 But O the Anguish Which presence still presented , Absence hath not absented , Nor made to languish . No , no , t' encrease my paining , The cause being ( ah ) remoued . For which th' effect I loued , Th' effect is still in greatest force remaining . 7 O cruell Tyger , If to your hard hearts center , Teares , vowes , and Prayers may enter , Desi●t your rigour : And let kind lines assure me ( Since to my deadly wound No salue else can be found ) That you that kil me , yet at length wil cure me
V. ODE . His farewell to his vnkind and vnconstant Mistris . SWeete , if you like and loue me still , And yeeld me loue for my good will , And do not from your promise start , When your faire hand gaue me your heart , If deere to you I be , As you are deere to me : Then yours I am , and will be euer , Nor time nor place my loue shall seuer . But faithfull still I will perseuer , Like constant Marble stone , Louing but you alone . But if you fauour moe then me . ( Who loue thee deare and none but thee ) If others do the Haruest gaine , That 's due to me for all my paine : If you delight to range , And oft to chop and change : Then get you some new fangled Mate . My doating loue shall turne to hate , Esteeming you ( though too too late ) Not worth a pebble stone , Louing not me alone .
VI. ODE . A Presopopaeia , Wherein his heart speakes to his second Ladies brest . I Dare not in my Masters bosome rest , That flaming Aetna would to ashes burne me : Nor dare I harbour in his mistresse brest . The frosty Climate into Ice would turne me , So , both from her and him I do retire me ; Least th' one should freeze me , and th' other fire me . Wing'd with true loue , I flye to this sweete brest , Whose snow I hope will coole , but t'ice not turne me , Where fire and snow , I trust so tempred rest , As gentle heate will warme , and yet not burne me , But ( O deare brest ) from thee I le ne'reretire me , Whether thou coole , or warme , or freeze , or fire me .
VIII . ODE . Vpon her giuing him backe the Paper wherein the former Song was written , as though it had beene an answere thereunto . LAdy of matchlesse beauty ; When into your sweete bosome I deliuered A paper , with wan lookes , and hand that quiuered Twixt hope , feare , loue , and duty : Thought you it nothing else contain'd , But written words in Rime restrain'd ? O then your thought abused was , My hart close wrapt therein , into your breast refused wa● . When you that Scroule restor'd me , With gratefull words , kind grace , and smiling merily , My breast did swell with ioy , supposing verily , You , answere did afford me . But finding onely that I writ , I hop't to find my Hart in it : But you my hope abused had , And poyson of despaire in stead thereof infused had . Why , why did you torment me , With giuing backe my humble Rymes so hatefully ? You should haue kept both heart and paper gratefully ? Or both you should haue sent me . Hope you my Heart thence to remoue By scorning me , my Lines , my Loue ? No , no , your hope abused is , Too deepe to be remou'd , it in your brest infused is . O shall I hide or tell it : Deere with so spotlesse , zealous , firme Affection , I loue your beauty , vertue , and perfection , As nothing can expell it . Scorne still my Rimes , my Loue despight , Pull out my Heart , yea kill me quite : Yet will your hate abused be , For in my very soule , your loue and lookes infused be .
VIII . ODE . Commendation of her beautie , stature , behauiour and wit . SOme there are as faire to see too : But by Art , and not by Nature . Some as tall and goodly be too : But want beauty to their stature . Some haue gracious kind behauiour , But are foule , or simple creatures : Some haue wit , but want sweete fauour , Or are proud of their good features . Onely you and you want pitty , Are most faire , tall , kind , and witty .
IX . ODE . That all other Creatures haue their abiding in heauen , hell , earth , ayre , water or fire , but he in all of them . IN heau'n the blessed Angels haue their being , In hell the fiends appointed to damnation , To men and beasts earth yeelds firme habitation : The wing'd Musitians in the ayre are fleeing . With finnes the people gliding , Of water haue the enioying . In fire ( all else destroying . ) The Salamander findes a strange abiding : But I poore wretch , since I did first aspire , To loue your beauty , beauties all excelling , Haue my strange diuerse dwelling , In heau'n , hell earth , water , ayre , and Fier . Mine eare while you do sing , in Heau'n remaineth : My mind in hell , through hope and feares contention . Earth holds my drossie wit and dull inuention . Th' ill food of ayrie sighes my life sustaineth . To streames of teares still flowing , My weeping eyes are turned , My constant heart is burned In quenchlesse fire within my bosome glowing , O foole , no more , no more so high aspire : In heau'n is no beauty more excelling , In hell no such pride dwelling , Nor heart so hard in earth , ayre , water , fire .
X. ODE . His Lady to be condemned of ignorance or crueltie . AS she is faire , so faithfull I , My seruice she , her grace I merit , Her beauty doth my loue inherit , But grace she doth denie . O knowes she not how much I loue ? Or doth knowledge in her moue No small remorce ? For the guilt thereof must lie Vpon one of these of force , Her ignorance , or cruelty . As she is faire , so cruell she , I sowe true loue , but reape disdaining , Her pleasure springeth from my paining , Which pities source should be . Too well she knowes how much I loue , Yet doth knowledge in her moue , No small remorce . Then the guilt thereof must lie Her vndeserued cruelty . As she is faire , so were she kinde : Or being cruell , could I wauer , Soone should I , either win her fauer , Or a new Mistresse finde . But neither out alas may be , Scorne in her , and loue in me , So fixed are . Yet in whom most blame doth lie Iudge she may , if she compare My loue vnto her cruelty .
XI . ODE . A Dialogue betweene him and his heart . AT her faire hands , how haue I grace intreated , With prayers oft repeated , Yet still my loue is thwarted : Heart let her goe , for shee le not be conuerted . Say , shall she goe ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. She is most faire though she be marble hearted . How often haue my sighes declar'd mine anguish ? Wherein is daily anguish , Yet doth she still procure it : Heart let her goe , for I cannot endure it . Say , shall she go ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. She gaue the wound , and she alone must cure it . The trickling teares that downe my cheeks haue flowed , My life haue often shewed , Yet still vnkind I proue her : Heart let her goe , for nought I doe can moue her . Say , shall she goe ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. Though me she hates I cannot chuse but loue her . But shall still a true affection owe her , Which prayers , sighes , teares do shew her , And shall she still disdaine me ? Heart let her go , if they no grace can giue me . Say , shall she goe ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. She made me hers , and hers she will retaine me . But if the loue that hath , and still doth burne me , No loue at length returne me : Out of my thoughts i le let her : Heart let her goe , oh heart , I pray thee let her : Say , shall she go ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. Fixt in the heart , how can the heart forget her ? But if I weepe and sigh , and often waile me , Till teares , sighes , praiers faile me , Shall yet my loue perseruer ? Heart let her go , if she will right thee neuer . Say , shall she goe ? Oh no , no , no , no , no. Teares , sighes , praiers faile , but true loue lasteth euer .
XII . ODE . Where his Lady keepes his heart . SWeet Loue , mine onely treasure , For seruice long vnfained , Wherein I nought haue gained , Vouchsafe this little pleasure , To tell me in what part , My Lady keepes my hart . If in her haire so slender , Like golden nets vntwined , Which fire and art haue fined , Her thrall my heart I render , For euer to abide With locks so dainty tide . If in her eyes she binde it , Wherein that fire was framed , By which it is inflamed , I dare not looke to finde it : I onely wish it sight , To see that pleasant light . But if her breast haue dained With kindnesse to receiue it , I am content to leaue it , Though death thereby were gained . Then Lady take your owne , That liues for you alone .
XIII . ODE . The more fauour he obtaines , the more he desires . AS soone may water wipe me dry , And fire my heate allay , As you with fauour of your eye , Make hot desire decay . The more I haue , The more I craue : The more I craue , the more desire , As piles of wood encrease the fire . The senselesse stone that from on hie Descends to earth below , With greater hast it selfe doth ply , The lesse it hath to goe . So feeles desire Encrease of fire . That still with greater force doth burne , Till all into it selfe it turne . The greater fauour you bestow , The sweeter my delight : And by delight desire doth grow , And growing gathers might , The lesse remaines , The more my paines , To see my selfe so neere the brinke , And yet my fill I cannot drinke .
XIIII . ODE . Desire and hope . DEsire and Hope haue mou'd my minde , To seeke for that I cannot finde , Assured faith in woman-kinde , And loue with loue rewarded : Selfe-loue , all but himselfe disdaines , Suspect as chiefest vertue raignes , Desire of change vnchang'd remaines , So light is loue regarded . True friendship is a naked name , That idle braines in pastime frame , Extreames are alwaies worthy blame , Enough is common kindnesse . What flouds of teares do louers spend ? What sighes from out their hearts they send ? How many may , and will not mend ? Loue is a wilfull blindnesse . What is the loue they so desire ? Like loue for loue , and equall fire : Good louing wormes , which loue require , And know not when they haue it . Is loue in words ? faire words may faine . Is loue in lookes ? sweet lookes are vaine , Both these in common kindnesse raigne , Yet few or none so craue it . Thou wouldst be lou'd , and that of one , For vice ? thou maist seeke loue of none , For vertue ? why of her alone ? I say no more , speake you that know the truth , If so great loue be ought , but of youth .
XV. ODE . Vpon visiting his Lady by Moone-light . THe night say all , was made to rest , And so say I , but not for all : To them the darkest nights are best , Which giue them leaue asleepe to fall . But I that seeke my rest by light Hate sleepe , and praise the cleerest night . Bright was the Moone , as bright as day , And Venus glistred in the West , Whose light did leade the readie way , That brought me to my wished rest : Then each of them encreast their light , While I enioyn'd her heauenly sight . Say , gentle Dames , who mou'd your mind To shine so bright aboue your wont : Would Phoebe faire Endimion finde ? Would Venus see Adonis hunt ? No , no , you feared by her sight , To lose the praise of beauty bright . At last , for shame you shrunke away , And thought to reaue the world of light : Then shone my dame with brighter ray , Then that which comes from Phoebus sight : None other light but hers I praise , Whose nights are clearer then the daies .
XVI . ODE . Petition to haue her leaue to die . WHen will the fountaine of my teares be dry ? When will my sighes be spent ? When will desire agree to let me die : When will my heart relent : It is not for my life I pleade , Since death the way to rest doth leade , But stay for thy consent , Least thou be discontent . For if my selfe without thy leaue I kill , My Ghost will neuer rest : So hath it sworne to worke thine onely will , And holds that euer best . For since it onely liues by thee , Good reason thou the ruler be : Then giue me leaue to dye , And shew thy power thereby .
XVII . ODE . The kind Louers complaint in finding nothing but folly for his faithfulnesse . IF my decay be your encrease , If my distresse be your delight . If warre in me procure you peace , If wrong to me , to you be right . I would decay , distresse , warre , wrong , Might end the life that ends so long . Yet if by my decay you grow , When I am spent your growth is past : If from my griefe your ioy doe flow . When my griefe ends , your ioy flies fast : Then for your sake , though to my paine , I striue to liue , to die full faine . For if I die , my warre must cease , Then can I suffer wrong no more : My warre once done , farewell your peace , My wrong , your right doth still restore : Thus , for your right I suffer wrong , And for your peace , my warre prolong . But since nothing can long indure , That sometime hath not needfull rest , What can my life your ioy assure , If still I waile with griefe opprest ? The strongest stomacke faints at last , For want of ease and due repast . My restlesse sighes breake out so fast , That time to breath they quite deny : Mine eies so many teares haue cast , That now the springs themselues are dry . Then grant some little ease from paine , Vntill the spring be full againe . The Gyant whom the Vulture gnawes , Vntill his heart be growne , hath peace : And Sisyphus by hellish lawes , Whilst that the stone roules downe , doth cease : But all in vaine I striue for rest , Which breeds more sorrow in my brest . Let my decay be your encrease , Let my distresse be your delight : Let warre in me procure your peace , Let wrong in me to you be right : That by my griefe your ioy may liue , Vouchsafe some little rest to giue .
XVIII . ODE . Vnhappy eyes . CLose your lids , vnhappy eyes , From the sight of such a change : Loue hath learned to despise , Selfe-conceit hath made him strange : Inward now his sight he turneth , With himselfe in loue he burneth . If abroad he beauty spy , As by chance he lookes abroad , Or it is wrought by his eye , Or forc'd out by Painters fraud : Saue himselfe none faire , he deemeth , That himselfe too much esteemeth . Coy disdaine hath kindnesse place , Kindnesse forc'd to hide his head : True desire is counted base , Hope with hope is hardly fed : Loue is thought a fury needlesse , He that hath it , shall dye speedlesse . Then mine eyes why gaze you so : Beauty scornes the teares you shed , Death you seeke to end my woe , O that you of death were sped : But with loue hath death conspired , To kill none whom loue hath fired .
XIX . ODE . Disdaine at variance with desire . DIsdaine that so doth fill me , Hath surely sworne to kill me , And I must die , Desire that still doth burne me , To life againe will turne me , And liue must I. O kill me then disdaine ! That I may liue againe . Thy lookes are life vnto me , And yet those lookes vndoe me , O death and life ! Thy smile some rest doth shew me , Thy frowne with warre o'rethrow me , O peace and strife ! Nor life nor death is either , Then giue me both , or neither . Life onely cannot please me , Death onely cannot ease me , Change is delight . I liue that death may kill me , I dye that life may fill me , Both day and night . If once despaire decay , Desire will weare away .
XX. ODE . Cupids Marriage with disimulation . A New-found match is made of late , Blind Cupid needs will change his wife , New-fangled Loue doth Psyche hate . With whom so long he led his life . Dissembling , she The bride must be , To please his wanton eye , Psyche laments That loue repents , His choice without cause why . Cytheron sounds with musicke strange , Vnknowne vnto the Virgins nine : From flat to sharpe the Tune doth range , Too base , because it is too fine . See how the bride Puft vp with pride , Can mince it passing well : She trips on toe , Full faire to show , Within doth poyson dwell . Now wanton Loue at last is sped , Dissembling is his onely ioy , Bare truth from Venus Court is fled , Dissembling pleasures hides annoy . It were in vaine , To talke of paine , The wedding yet doth last , But paine is neare , And will appeare , With a dissembling cast . Despaire and hope are ioyn'd in one , And paine with pleasure linked sure , Not one of these can come alone , No certaine hope , no pleasure pure . Thus sowre and sweete In loue doe meete , Dissembling likes it so , Of sweete small store , Of sowre the more , Loue is a pleasant woe . Amor & mellis & fellis .
XXI . ODE . Dispraise of Loue , and Louers follyes . IF loue be life , I long to dye , Liue they that list for me : And he that gaines the most thereby , A foole , at least shall be . But he that feeles the sorest fits , Sc●pes with no lesse then losse of wits , Vnhappy life they gaine , Which loue do entertaine . In day by fained lookes they liue , By lying dreames in night , Each frowne a deadly wound doth giue , Each smile a false delight . I ft hap their Lady pleasant seeme , It is for others loue they deeme : If voide she seeme of ioy , Disdaine doth make her coy . Such is the peace that louers finde , Such is the life they leade , Blowne here and there with euery winde , Like flowers in the meade . Now war , now peace , now war againe , Desire , despaire , delight , disdaine , Though dead in midst of life , In peace , and yet at strife . In amore haec insunt mala .
XXII . ODE . To his Muse . REst , good my Muse , and giue me leaue to rest , We striue in vaine . Conceale thy skill within thy sacred breast , Though to thy paine . The honour great which Poets wont to haue , With worthy deeds is buried deepe in graue . Each man will hide his name , Thereby to hide his shame , And silence is the praise their vertues craue . To praise , is flattery , malice to dispraise , Hard is the choyce , What cause is left for thee , my Muse , to raise Thy heau'nly voyce ? Delight thy selfe on sweete Pernassus hill , And for a better time reserue thy skill , There let thy siluer sound , From Cyrrha wood rebound , And all the vale with learned Musicke fill . Then shall those fooles that now preferre each rime , Before thy skill , With hand and foote in vaine assay to clime Thy sacred hill . There shalt thou sit and scorne them with disdaine , To see their fruitlesse labour all in vaine : But they shall fret with spight , To see thy glory bright , And know themselues thereto cannot attaine .
XXIII . ODE . To his heart . NAy , nay , thou striu'st in vaine my heart , To mend thy misse : Thou hast deseru'd to beare this smart , And worse then this . That wouldst thy selfe debase , To serue in such a place . Thou thought'st thy selfe too long at rest , Such was thy pride . Needs must thou seeke another brest Wherein to bide . Say now what hast thou found ? In fetters thou art bound . What hath thy faithfull seruice won , But high disdaine ? Broke is thy threed , thy fancy spun , Thy labour vaine . Falne art thou now with paine , And canst not rise againe . And canst thou looke for helpe of mee In this distresse ? I must confesse I pitty thee , And can no lesse . But beare a while thy paine , For feare thou fall againe . Learne by thy hurt to shun the fire , Play not withall : When climing thoughts high things aspire , They seeke their fall . Thou ween'st nought shone but gold . So wast thou blind and bold . Yet lye not still for this disgrace , But mount againe , So that thou know the wished place , Be worth thy paine . Then though thou fall and dye , Yet neuer feare to flye .
XXIIII . ODE . A defiance to disdainefull loue . NOw haue I learn'd with much adoe at last , By true disdaine to kill desire , This was the marke at which I shot so fast , Vnto this height I did aspire . Proud loue now doe thy worst , and spare not , For thee and all thy shafts I care not . What hast thou left wherewith to mooue thy mind : What life to quicken dead desire : I count thy words and oathes as light as wind , I feele no heate in all thy fire . Goe change thy bow , and get a stronger , Goe breake thy shafts , and buy thee longer . In vaine thou bait'st thy hooke with beauties blaze , In vaine thy wanton eyes allure . These are but toyes , for them that loue to gaze , I know what harme thy lookes procure : Some strange conceit must be deuised , Or thou and all thy skill despised . Scilicet asserui iam me , fugique catenas .
XXV : ODE . The Tombe of dead Desire . WHen Venus saw Desire must dye , Whom high disdaine , Had iustly slaine , For killing Truth with scornfull eye , The earth she leaues and gets her to the skie : Her golden haire she teares , Blacke weeds of woe she weares : For helpe vnto her father doth she cry , Who bids her stay a space And hope for better grace . To saue his life she hath no skill , Whom should she pray , What doe , or say , But weepe for wanting of her will : Meane time Desire hath tane his last farewell , And in a Meddow faire , To which the Nimphs repaire , His breathlesse corps is laid with wormes to dwell : So glory doth decay When death takes life away . When morning Starre had chasde the night , The Queene of Loue Lookt from aboue , To see the graue of her delight ? And as with heedfull eye she viewd the place , She spide a flower vnknowne . That on his graue was growne , In stead of learned verse his tombe to grace . If you the name require , Hearts-ease from dead desire .
XXVI . ODE . Three Odes translated out af Anacreon , the Greeke Lyricke Poet. OF Atreus Sonnes faine would I write , And faine of Cadmus would I sing : My Lute is set on Loues delight , And onely Loue sounds eu'ry string . Of late my Lute I alt'red quite , Both frets and strings for runes aboue , I sung of fierce Alcides might , My Lute would sound no tune but Loue . Wherefore ye worrhies all farewell , No tune but Loue my Lute can tell .
XXVII . ODE . A comparison betwixt the strength of beasts , the wisedome of Man , and the beauty of a womans heart . THe Bull by nature hath his hornes , The Horses hooues to daunt their foes , The light-foote Hare the hunter scornes , The Lyons teeth his strength disclose . The fish by swimming scapes the wheele , The bird by flight the Fowlers net . With wisedome man is arm'd as steele , From women none of these can get . What haue they then ? faire beauties grace , A two-edg'd Sword , a trusty shield , No force resists a louely face , Both fire and sword to Beauty yeeld .
XXVIII . ODE . OF late what time the Beare turn'd round , At midnight in her wo●●ed way , And men of all sorts slept full sound , Orecome with labour of the day : The God of loue came to my dore , And tooke the ring and knocks it hard : Whose the●e , quoth I , that knocks so sore , You breake my sleep , my dreams are mar'd ? A little boy , forsooth , q●●th he , D●ng wet , with ●ain●●s moonlesse night , With that me thought it pittied me . I op't the doore , and candle light . And straight a little boy I spide , A winged Boy with shafts and bow , I tooke him to the fire side , And set him downe to warme him so . His little hands in mine I straine , To rub and warme them therewithall : Out of his locks I crush the raine , From which the drops apace downe fall , At last when he was waxen warme , Now let me trie my Bow , quoth he . I feare my string hath caught some harme , And wet , wil● 〈◊〉 ●oue too slack for me , He said , and 〈◊〉 bow and shot , And weighty 〈…〉 heart , The wound was ●ore and ●●ging hot , The heate like fie●y 〈◊〉 my ●●art . Mine Hhoast , quoth he , my s●●ng is well , And laught so that he leapt againe : Looke to your wound for feare of swell , Your heart may hap to feele the paine .
XXIX . ODE . Anacreons second Ode , otherwise . NAture in her worke doth giue , to each thing that by her do liue A proper gift where she may , Preuent in time her owne decay , The Bull a horne , the Horse a hoofe The light-hoofe hare to run aloofe : The Lyons strength , who may resist ? The birds aloft flye where they list . The fish swimmes safe in water deep , The silly worme at least can creepe : What is to come , men can forecast , And learne more wit , by that is past . The womans gift what might it be , The same for which the Ladies three , Pallas , Iuno , Venus straue , When each desired it to haue .
XXX : ODE . Anacreons third Ode otherwise . CVpid abroad was lated in the night , His wings were wet with ranging in the raine , Harbour he sought , to me he tooke his flight . To dry , his plumes , I heard the Boy complaine . I opt the dore , and granted his desire , I rose my selfe , and made the wag a fire , F●ying more narrow by the fiers flame , I spide his Quiuer hanging at his back : Doubting the Boy might my misfortune frame , I would haue gone for feare of further wrack . But what I fear'd , did me poore wretch betide , And forth he drew an Arrow from his side . He pierst the quick and I began to start , A pleasing wound , but that it was too high , His shaft procur'd a sharpe , yet sugred smart , Away he flew , for now his wings were drye . But left the Arrow sticking in my brest , Therefore I grieue , I welcom'd such a Guest .
XXXI . ODE . That time and absence proues . Rather helps then hurts to loues . ABsence , heare thou my Protestation , Against my strength , Distance and length : Do what you can for alteration , For hearts of truest mettle , Absence doth ioyne and time doth settle : Who loues a Mistresse of such quality , He soone hath found Affections ground Beyond time , place , and all mortality To hearts that cannot vary , Absence is present , time doth tarry . My sences want their outward motions : Which now within Reason doth win , Redoubled in her secret notions : Like rich men that take pleasure , In hiding , more then handling Treasure . By absence , this good meanes I gaine , That I can catch her , Where none can watch her , In some close corner of my braine : There I imbrace and kisse her , And so I both enioy and misse her .
XXXII . ODE . Of Cinthia . THe ancient readers of heauens booke , Which with curious eye did looke ▪ Into Natures story , All things vnder Cynthia tooke To be transitory . This the learned only knew , But now all men find it true , Cynthia is descended , With bright beames , and heauenly hew , And lesser starres attended . Lands and seas she rules below , Where things change and ebbe , and flow , Spring , waxe old , and perish : Only time which all doth mow . Her alone doth cherish . Times yong houres attend her still , And her eyes and cheekes do fill , With fresh youth and beauty : All her louers old do grow , But their hearts they do not so In their loue and duty .
The end of the fourth Booke .
THE FIFT BOOKE OF Epigrams and Epitaphs .
Of Epigrams . Epigrams translated out of Martiall .
Ad Aelian 76. l. 1. Si memini fuerant tibi quatuor , Aelia , dentes , Expuit vnta duos tussis & vna duos . Iam secura potes totis tussire diebus , Nil istuc quod agat tertia t●ssis habet . Foure teeth of late you had , both black and shaking , Which durst not chew your meate for feare of aking , But since your cough ( without a Barbers aid ) Hath blowne them out , you need not be afraid . On either side to chew hard crusts , for sure Now from the Tooth-ach you liue most secure .
In Herm. 15. l. 2. Quod nulli calicem tuum propinas . Humane facis , Herme , non superbe .
A Monsieur Naso , Verole . Naso let none drinke in his glasse but he , Thinke you t is curious pride ? t is curtesie .
De Manuella . 51. l. 1. Os & libra tibi lingit , Manuella , catellus . Non miror merdas filibet esse cani . I muse not that your Dog turds oft do eate , To a tongue that licks your lips , a turd's sweet meate .
De Milone . Milo domi non est , peregre Milone profecto , Arua vacant , vxor non minus inde parit . Cur sit ager sterilis , cur vxor lacttet , eadem Quo fodiatur ager non habet vxor habet . MILO liues long in France , and while he 's there , his ground bears nought , his wife doth children beare , Why should th' one barren , th' other fertile be ? His ground lacks plowing vp , so doth not she .
De Codro . Li. 15. 3. Plus credit nemo , quam tota Codrus in vrbe , Cum sit tam pauper quomodo ? coecus amat . CODRVS , although but of meane estate , Trusts more then any Merchant in the citie , For being old and blind he hath of late , Married a wife , young , wanton , faire , and wittie .
Ad Quintum 117. L. 5. Quae legis causa nupsit tibi Laelia , Quinte . Vxorem hanc peteris dicere legitimam . THy lawfull wife faire Laelia needs must bee , For she was for'st by law to marry thee . Nil mihi das viuus , dicis post fata daturum , Si non es stultus , scis Maro quid cupiam .
To A. S. RIch Chremes whiles he liues will nought bestow , On his poore Heires , but all at his last day : If he be halfe as wise as rich I trow , He thinks that for his life they seldome pray . Semper eris pauper , si pauper es , Aemiliane , Danter opes nullis nunc nifi diuitibus .
To all poore Schollers . FAile ye of wealth , of wealth ye still will faile , None but fat sowes are now greaz'd in the taile .
In Cinnam . 42. 42. L. 7. Primum est vt proestes , si quid te , Cinna rogabo , Illud deinde sequens , vt cito , Cinna , neges . Diligo praectanter , non odi Cinna , negantem , Sed tunc praestas , nec c●o Cinnanogas .
To his friends . MY iust demaunds so one grant or soone deny , Th' one friendship showes , and th' other courtesie : But who nor soone doth grant , nor soone say no , Doth not true friendship , and good manners know .
In Cinnam . 107. L. 5. Esse nihil dicis , quicquid petis , improbe Cinna , Si nil Cinna petis , niltibi Cinna negos . WHat so'ere you coggingly require , T is noting ( Cinna ) still you cry : Then Cinna you haue your desire , If you aske nought , nought I deny .
De Philone . 48. L. 5. Nunquam se caenasse domi Philo iurat , & hoc est , Non coenat quoties nemo vocauit cum . PHilo sweares he ne're eates at home a nights , He meanes , he fasts when no man him inuites .
12. L. 12. YOu promise mountaines still to me , When ouer night starke drunke you be . But nothing you performe next day , Hence forth be morning drunke , I pray .
Ad Pessimos Coniuges . 35. L. 8. CVm sitis similes , paresque vita : Vxor pessima , pessimus maritus , Miror non bene conuenire vobis . WHy do your wife and you so ill agree , Since you in manners so well matched be ? Thou brazen-fa'st , she impudently bold , Thou still dost brawle , she euermore doth scold . Thou seldome sober art , she often drunke , Thou a whore-hunting knaue , she a knowne Puncke . Both of you filch , both sweare and damne , and lie , And both take pawnes , and Iewish vsurie , Not manners like make man and wife agree , Their manners must both like and vertuous bee .
EPIGRAMS . A Rule for Courtiers . HE that will thriue in Court must oft become , Against his will , both blind , and deafe and dombe . On a painted Courtizan . WHosoeuer saith thou sellest all , doth iest , Thou buy'st thy beauty that sels all the rest . In Aulam . HEr Sonnes rich Aula termes her Letchers all , Whom other Dames loues , friends , and seruants call . And sure me thinkes her wit , Giues them a name more fit . For if all mothers them their sonnes doe call Whom they haue onely borne nine monthes in all , May she not call them Sonnes with better reason , Whom she hath borne nine times as long a season ? For a Looking-glasse . IF thou be faire , thy beauties beautifie , With vertuous deeds and manners answerable : If thou be foule , thy beauties want supply , With a faire mind and actions commendable . In Afinium . THou still wert wont in earnest or in iest , To praise an Asse as a most worthy best , Now like an Asse thy selfe thou still commendest . Whats'ere thou speakst with thine own praise thou endest Oh! I perceiue thou praisest learnedly , An Asse in Thesi and Hipothesi . On a limping Cuckold . THou euermore dost ancient Poets blame , For faining Venus wife to Vulcan lame . I blame the starre and Hymen to , that gaue A faire straight wife to thee a foule lame knaue , And nought doth ease my griefe but onely this , Thy Venus now hath got a Mars to kisse . On Crambo a lowzie shifter . BY want of shift since lice at first are bred , And after by the same increast and fed , Crambo I muse how you haue lice so many , Since all men know you shift as much as any . In Quintum . QVintus is burnt , and may thereof be glad , For being poore he hath a good pretence , At euery Church to craue beneuolence For one that had by fire lost all he had . In Sabam . WHy will not Saba in a glasse behold Her face , since she grew wrinckled , pale & old ? Doubtlesse I thinke she doubts that ougly sight Like Cow-turnd I O would her selfe affright . In Aulum . AVlus giues nought , men say , though much he craue , Yet I can tell to whom the poxe he gaue . F. D.
An Epigram to Sir Phillip Sidney in Elegical verse , translated out of Iodel , the French Poet. Cambridge , worthy Philip , by this verse builds thee an altar Gainst time and tempest , strong to abide for euer , That praise of verses no length of time can abolish , With Greece and Italy purchased endlesse honour : I then pursuing their steps like glory to purchase , Will make thy memory famous in after ages , And in these measured verses thy glory be sounded , So be thy holy fauour , help to my holy fury .
An Epigram in Hexameters , vpon the neuer enough praised Sir Philip Sidney . What can I now suspect , or what can I feare any longer ? Oft did I feare , oft hope , whilst life in Sidney remained : Of nothing can I now despaire , for nought can I hope for : This good is in miserie , when great extreamity grieues vs , That neither hope of good , nor feare of worse can affright vs And can I then complaine , when no complaint can auaile me ? How can I seeme to be discontent , or what can I weepe for ? He liues eternall , with endlesse glory bedecked : Yea still on earth he liues , and still shall liue by the Muses .
Another Epigram vpon the same . What strange aduenture ? what now vnlook't for arriuall , Hath drawne the Muses from sweete Boeotia mountaines , To chuse our countrey , to seeke in London abiding ? Are faire Castalian streames dride ? stands Cyrrha no longer ? Or loue the Muses , like wantons oft to be changing ? Scarce can I that suppose , scarce thinke I those to be Muses . No sound of melodie , no voyce but dreary lamenting . Yet well I wot too well , Muses most dolefully weeping . See where Melpomene fits hid for shame in a corner , Here ye the carefull sighes , fetcht from the depth of her entrails ? There weepes Calliope , there sometimes lustie Thal●ia . Aye me ! alas , now know I the cause , now seeke I no further , Here lies their glory , their hope , their onely reioycing : Dead lies worthy Philip , the care and praise of Apollo , Dead lies his carkasse , but fame shall liue to the worlds end .
Other Epigrams vpon the same . Whom can I first accuse ? whose fault account I the greatest , Where kept the Muses , what countries haunted Apollo ? Where loitred bloody Mars , where lingred worthy Minerua ? What could three sisters do more then nine in a combate ? Was force of no force ? Was faire entreaty refused ? Where is the musicke , that sometimes moued Alecto ? That gain'd Eurydice , that left Proserpina weeping . Choose whether of the two you list , your skill to be nothing : Or your most faithfull seruants vnkindly rewarded . And thou that braggest of skilfull surgery knowledge , That canst of Simples discerne the qualitie secret , And giue fit plaisters for woundes that seeme to be curelesse , Whereto auailes thy skill , that cannot Sidney recouer . And couldest thou whilome preuaile with destinie fatall , For King Admetus gainst course of natural order , As for Mars , wel I wot , cold frost of Thracia kingdome , Hath kild al kindnesse , no ruth of them can be lookt for , And daintie Pallas disdaind forsooth to be present , Enuy perhaps , nay griefe as I gesse , was cause of her absence . Onely we poore wretches , whom Gods and Muses abandon , Lament thy timelesse decay with sorrrwful outcries . But yet if hap some Muse , would adde new grace to my verses , Germany , France , Italy , Spaine , Denmarke , Persia , Turkie , India where Phoebus mounts vp from sea to the Skie-ward , India where Phoebus fals downe from skie to the sea-warn'de , Tartary , Pole , Lettow , Muscouy , Bohemia , Norway , All Coasts where rising or falling Phoebus apeareth , Should heare , and wonder to heare thy glory resounded . Armenian Tigres enrag'd for theft of a youngling , Princely Lyons roaring , for want of prey to be starued , Fierce Beares , and grunting wilde Boares , vpon Arcady mountaines . Should stand astonisht , forgetting naturall of spring , Forgetting hunger , forgetting slaughter apointed , As when Calliopes deere sonne , sweete harmony singing , Vnto the true consent of his Harpe strings tuned in order , Drew from their places wild beasts and trees by the musicke . Swift flowing Hebrus stai'd all his streames in a wonder , As if chilcoldnesse frorne had them downe to the bottome . But for I wote to wel my slender skill to be nothing , Here wil I quite forsweare both Verse and Muse in an anger Lost hap my rudenesse disgrace thy glory by praising . Dignum laude virum Musavetat mori .
The end of the Epigrams .
To the Epitaph vpon the heart of Henry the third , late King of France and Poland : slaine 1589. by a Iacobine Fryar . Vpon the Tombe of his heart in the Church of S. Clou , neere Paris , adioyning to the house where he was slaine . Adsta viator , & dole Regum vicem , Cor Regis isto conditum est sub marmore , Qui iura Gallis , iura Sarmatis dedit . Tectus Cucullo hunc sustulit Sicarius , Abi Viator , & dole Regum vicem .

This Paraphrastically Englished .

WHether thy choice , or chance thee hither brings , Stay Passenger , and waile the hap of Kings . This little stone , a great Kings heart doth hold , That rul'd the fickle French , and Polackes bold : Whom with a mighty warlike host attended With traiterous knife , a couled monster ended . So fraile are euen the highest earthly things , Go passenger , and waile the hap of Kings . F. D.
An Epitaph on Henry the fourth , the last King of France . THat we should more bewaile the hap of Kings , Great Henry Bourbons death occasion brings , To Henry Valois next crown'd King of France , Next both in blood , in name , in reigne , in chance . Perils his youth , warres did his manhood spend , His old age peace , till murder his life did end : His conquests glory , his wisedome peace did win , His faith heauen , Christ pardon for his sinne .
An Epitaph on Queene Elizabeth . ELiza that great maiden Queene lies here , Who gouern'd England foure and fortie yere , Our coynes refinde in Ireland tamde , Belgia protected , Friended France , foiled Spaine , and Pope reiected : Princes found her powerfull , the world vertuous , Her Subiects wise and iust , and God religious : God hath her soule , the world her admiration , Subiects her good deeds , Princes her imitation . Cha. Best .
THE SIXTH BOOKE OF Epistles .
Or letters in verse . MY deerest sweete , if these sad lines do hap The raging fury of the Sea to scape , O be not you more cruell then the Seas , Let Pittie now your angry mind appease . So that your hand may be their blessed Port , From whence they may vnto your eies resort . And at that throne pleading my wretched case , May moue your cruell heart to yeeld me grace . So may no clouds of elder yeares obscure Your Sun-like eies , but still as bright endure , As then they shone when with one piercing Ray , They made my selfe their slaue , my heart they pray : So may no sicknesse nip those flowers sweete , Which euer flowring on your cheekes do meete : Nor all defacing time haue power to race , The goodly building of that heauenly face .
Another . Fountaine of blisse , yet well-spring of my woe , ( O would I might not iustly terme you so ! ) Alas , your cruell dealing , and my fate , Haue now reduc'de me to that wretched state , That I know not how , I my stile may frame To thankes , or grudging , or to praise , or blame : And whereto write , I all my powers do bend , There wot I not how to begin or end . And now my drisling teares trill downe apace , As if the latter would the former chase , Whereof some few on my pale cheekes remaine , Like wither'd flowers bedew'd with drops of raine : The other falling in my Paper sinke , Or dropping in my Pen encrease my inke . Which suddaine Passions cause , if you would finde , A trembling feare doth now possesse my mind , That you will not vouchsafe these lines to reade , Lest they some pittie in your heart may breede : But or with angry frownes refuse to take them , Or taking them the fires fewell make them : Or with those hands ( made to a milder end ) These guiltlesse leaues all into peeces rend . O cruell Tyrant ! ( yet beloued still , ) Wherein haue I deseru'd of you so ill , That all my loue you should with hate requite , And all my paines reward with such dispite ? Or if my fault be great ( which I protest Is onely loue , too great to be exprest ) What , haue these lines so harmelesse innocent , Deseru'd to feele their Masters punishment ? These leaues are not vnto my fault consenting : And therefore ought not to haue the same tormenting . When you haue read them , vse them as you lift , For by your sight they shall be fully blest : But till you reade them , let the woes I haue This harmelesse Paper from your furie saue .
Another . Cleare vp mine eyes , and dry your selues my teares , And thou my heart banish these deadly feares : Perswade thy selfe , that though her heart disdaine , Either to loue thy loue , or rue thy paine , Yet faire her eyes will not a looke deny , To this sad story of thy miserie . O then my deere , behold the Portraiture , Of him that doth all kind of woes endure , Of him whose head is made a hiue of woes , Whose swarming number daily greater growes : Of him whose senses like a Racke are bent , With diuers motions my poore soule to rent : Whose mind a mirror is , which onely shewes , The ougly image of my present woes : Whose memorie 's a poyson'd knife to teare The euer bleeding wound my breast doth beare , ( The euer-bleeding wound not to be cured , But by those eyes that first the same procured . ) And that poore heart , so faithfull , constant , true , That onely loues , and serues , and honors you , Is like a feeble ship , which torne and rent , The Mast of hope being broke , and tackling spent , Reason the Pilot dead , the starres obscured , By which alone to saile it was enured . No Port , no Land , no comfort once expected , All hope of safetie vtterly neglected , With dreadfull terrour tumbling vp and downe , Passions vncertaine , waues with hideous sound , Doth daily , hourely , minuitly expect When either it should runne , and so be wrect , Vpon despaires sharpe Rocke , or be o're-throwne With storme of your disdaine so fiercely blowne .
Another . But yet of all the woes that do torment me , Of all the torments that do daily rent me , Ther 's none so great ( although I am assured , That euen the least cannot be long endured : ) As that so many weekes ( nay moneths , and yeares ) Nay tedious ages , ( for it so appeares ) My trembling heart ( besides so many anguishes , ) T'wixt hope and feare vncertaine howerly languishes : Whether your hands , your eyes , your heart of stone , Did take my lines , and reade them , and bemone With one kind word , one sigh , one pittying teare , Th' vnfained griefe which you do make me beare , Whether y'accepted that last Monument Of my deere loue , the booke ( I meane ) I sent To your deere selfe , when the respectlesse winde Bare me away , leauing my heart behinde : And daigne sometimes when you the same do view To thinke on him , who alwaie thinkes on you . Or whether you ( as Oh I feare you do ) Hare both my selfe , and gifts , and letters too .
Another . I must confesse ( vnkind ) when I consider , How ill , alas , how ill agree togither So peerelesse beautie , to so fierce a minde , So hard an inside to so faire a rinde , A heart so bloody to so white a brest , So proud disdaine , with so milde lookes supprest : And how my deere ( Oh would it had beene neuer , Accursed word , nay would it might be euer : ) How once I say , till your heart was estranged , ( Alas how soone my day to night was changed ) You did vouchsafe my poore eies so much grace , Freely to view the riches of your face , And did so high exalt my lowly heart , To call it yours , and take it in good part . And ( which was greatest blisse ) did not disdaine , For boundlesse loue to yeeld some loue againe . When this ( I say ) I call vnto my mind , And in my heart and soule no cause can find . No fact , no word , whereby my heart doth merit , To loue that loue , which once I did inherit , Despaire it selfe cannot make me despaire But that you 'le proue as kind as you are faire , And that my lines , and booke ( O would t' were true ) Are , though I know 't not yet , receiu'd by you , And often haue your crueltie repented . Whereby my guiltlesse heart , is thus tormented , And now at length in lieu of passed woe , Will pittie , kindnesse , loue and fauour shoe .
Another . But when againe my cursed memory , To my sad thoughts confounded diuerslie , Presents the time , the teare-procuring time , That wither'd my young ioyes before their prime : The time when I with tedious absence tired With restlesse loue , and rackt desire inspired , Comming to finde my earthly Paradise , To glasse my sight in your two heauenly eies , ( On which alone my earthly ioyes depended , And wanting which , my ioy and life were ended ) From your sweete rosie lips , the springs of blisse , To draw the Nectar of a sweetest kisse : My greedy eares on your sweete words to feed , Which canded in your sugred breath proceed , In daintiest accents through that currall dore , Guarded with pretious Pearle and Rubies store : To touch your hand so white , so moyst , so soft , And with a rauisht kisse redoubled oft , Reuenge with kindest spight the bloody theft , Whereby it closely me my heart bereft : And of all blisse to taste the consummation . In your sweet gracefull heauenly conuersation . By whose sweete charmes the soules do you inchant , Of all that do your louely presence haunt : In stead of all these ioyes I did expect , Found nought but frownes , vnkindnesse and neglect . Neglect , vnkindnesse , frownes ? nay plaine contempt , And open hate from no disdaine exempt , No bitter words , besides lookes , nor ought that might Engrieue , encrease so vndeserued spight . When this ( I say ) I thinke , and thinke withall . How , nor those showers of teares mine eyes let fall Nor wind of blustring sighes withall their force , Could moue your rockie heart once to remorce , Can I expect that letter should finde grace , Or pittie euer in your heart haue place ? No , no , I thinke , and sad despaire saies for me , You hate , disdaine , and vtterly abhorre me .
Another . Alas my Deere , if this you do deuise , To try the vertue of your murthering eies , And in the Glasse of bleeding hearts to view The glorious splendor of your beauties hew , Ah! try it on rebellious hearts and eyes , That do withstand the power of sacred lights And make them feele , ( if any such be found ) How deepe and curelesse your eyes can wound : But spare , O spare my yeelding heart , and saue Him whose chiefe glory is to be your slaue : Make me the matter of your clemencie , And not the subiect of your Tyrannie .
FINIS .