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LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


PRESENTED  BY 

MRS.  DONALD  KELLOGG 


ELIZABETHAN    SONNETS 
Vol.   II 


This  fine  state  of  a  charming-  seventeenth  century 
etching  is  the  work  of  Dirk  Stoop  (1610-1686),  a  clever 
Dutch  etcher,  who  came  over  to  England  in  the  train  of 
Catherine  of  Braganza,  and  became  well  known  for  his 
pageants  and  animal  drawings.  The  contemporary 
English  work  of  Francis  Barlow  and  Gaywood  in 
Holler's  style  should  be  compared  with  this  work, 
though  it  hardly  rivals  that  of  Stoop  in  achievement. 
There  are  two  famous  Stoop  prints  in  the  British 
Museum,  one  of  Oliver  Cromwell  on  the  tight-rope,  the 
other  of  Catherine's  processional  entry,  on  silk. 


THE  PENSHURST  EDITION 


OF 


&n  Cngltsf)  (garner 

INGATHERINGS     FROM     OUR 
HISTORY   AND    LITERATURE 

EDITED    BY 

PROFESSOR  EDWARD  ARBER 


JPENSHUKST- 


LONDON 

ARCHIBALD  CONSTABLE  AND  CO.  LTD. 

1909 


This  Edition  is  limited  to  750  copies 
for  England  and  A  merica 


No. 


108 


Edinburgh  :  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

*Thomas    Lodge — Phillis    Honoured    with    Pastorall   Sonnets, 

Elegies,  and  amorous  delights,  1593,  .  .  I 

Giles  Fletcher,  LL.D. — Licia,  or,  Poems  of  Love  in  Honour  of 
the  admirable  and  singular  virtues  of  his  Lady.  To  the 
imitation  of  the  best  Latin  Poets,  and  others,  1593,  .         23 

Henry  Constable  and  others — Diana,  or,  The  excellent  conceit- 
ful  Sonnets  of  H.  C.  Augmented  with  divers  Quatorzains 
of  honourable  and  learned  personages.  Divided  into 
viii.  Decades,  1584  \yere  1594], 75 

Samuel  Daniel — Delia  (1594),        .         .        .         .        ,        .        .115 

William  Percy — Sonnets  to  the  Fairest  Coelia,  1594,    .         .         .       137 

Anonymous — Zepheria,  1594, 153 

Michael  Drayton — Idea.     In  sixty-three  Sonnets,  1 594-1619,       .       179 

*Edmund  Spenser — Amoretti  and  Epithalamion,  1595,         .         .       213 

Bartholomew  Griffin — Fidessa,  more  chaste  than  kind,  1596,        .       261 

R[ichard]  L[inche]— Diella.      Certain  Sonnets,  adjoined  to  the 

amorous  poem  of  Dom  Diego  and  Gyneura,  1596,      .         .       297 


vi  Elizabethan  Sonnets 


TAGB 


William  Smith— Chloris,  or  The  Complaint  of  the  passionate 

despised  Shepherd,  1596, 321 

K[obert]  T[ofte] — Laura,  The  Toys  of  a  Traveller  :  or  The  Feast 

of  Fancy.     Divided  into  Three  Parts,  1597,        .         .  35 1 

Index  of  Proper  Names, 425 

Index  of  First  Lines, 435 


*  The  items  indicated  by  an  asterisk  are  new  additions  to  An  English  Garner. 


THILL  IS 

Honoured  with  Pa- 

ftorall  Sonnets,  Elegies,  and  amo- 
rous  delights. 

Where  -vnto  is  annexed,   the  tragicall 
complaynt  of  Elftred. 


lam  Phoebus  difiungit  equos,  tarn   Cin- 
thia  iungit. 


At  London, 

Printed  for   Iohn   Busbie,   and  are  to 

be  fold  at  his  fhoppe,  at  the  Weft-doore 

of  Paules.      I  593. 

II.  A  0 


[In  the  complete  Phillis  collection  of  poems  were  included,  together 
with  the  poems  of  sonnet  character,  numbered  consecutively  I. -XL.,  an 
'Induction'  in  eight  (6-line)  stanzas,  two  eclogues — one  in  twenty-six 
(6-line)  stanzas  and  the  other  in  twenty  (4-line)  stanzas — an  elegy  in 
fifty  alternately-rhyming  (5-iambic)  lines,  and  an  ode  in  five  (8-line) 
stanzas.  There  are  only  printed  here  thirty-eight  of  the  poems  of  the 
sonnet  character,  numbered  I. -XL.  ;  those  numbered  XV.  and  XVI.  are 
omitted,  because  they  have  another  metrical  character,  being  each 
twenty-lines  long  and  variously  rhymed.] 


L°dsg9e3:]  P  HILL  IS.  3 

SONNET    I. 

H  PLEASING  thoughts,  apprentices  of  love, 
Fore-runners  of  desire,  sweet  mithridates 
The  poison  of  my  sorrows  to  remove, 
With  whom  my  hopes  and  fear  full  oft  debates  ! 
Enrich  yourselves  and  me  by  your  self  riches, 
Which  are  the  thoughts  you  spend  on  heaven-bred  beauty, 
Rouse  you  my  muse  beyond  our  poets'  pitches, 
And,  working  wonders,  yet  say  all  is  duty  ! 
Use  you  no  eaglets'  eyes,  nor  phcenix'  feathers, 
To  tower  the  heaven  from  whence  heaven's  wonder  sallies. 
For  why  ?     Your  sun  sings  sweetly  to  her  weathers, 
Making  a  spring  of  winter  in  the  valleys. 

Show  to  the  world,  though  poor  and  scant  my  skill  is, 
How    sweet   thoughts  be,  that    are    but    thoughts  on 
Phillis. 


SONNET    II. 

Ou  sacred  sea-nymphs  pleasantly  disporting 
Amidst  this  wat'ry  world,  where  now  I  sail ; 
If  ever  love,  or  lovers  sad  reporting, 
Had  power  sweet  tears  from  your  fair  eyes  to 
hail; 
And  you,  more  gentle-hearted  than  the  rest, 
Under  the  northern  noon-stead  sweetly  streaming 
Lend  those  moist  riches  of  your  crystal  crest, 
To  quench  the  flames  from  my  heart's  ^Etna  streaming  ; 

And  thou,  kind  Triton,  in  thy  trumpet  relish 
The  ruthful  accents  of  my  discontent, 

That  midst  this  travel  desolate  and  hellish, 
Some  gentle  wind  that  listens  my  lament 
May  prattle  in  the  north  in  Phillis'  ears : 
"  Where  Phillis  wants,  Damon  consumes  in  tears." 


P  HI  LLIS. 

SONNET  III. 


"Lodge 
-    1593- 


^  FANCY'S  world  an  Atlas  have  I  been, 
Where  yet  the  chaos  of  my  ceaseless  care 
Is  by  her  eyes  unpitied  and  unseen, 
In  whom  all  gifts  but  pity  planted  are, 
For  mercy  though  still  cries  my  moan-clad  muse, 
And  every  paper  that  she  sends  to  beauty, 
In  tract  of  sable  tears  brings  woeful  news, 
Of  my  true  heart,  kind  thoughts,  and  loyal  duty. 

But  ah  the  strings  of  her  hard  heart  are  strained 
Beyond  the  harmony  of  my  desires  ; 
And  though  the  happy  heavens  themselves  have  pained, 
To  tame  her  heart  whose  will  so  far  aspires, 
Yet  she  who  claims  the  title  of  world's  wonder, 
Thinks  all  deserts  too  base  to  bring  her  under. 


SONNET    IV. 

Ong  hath  my  sufferance  laboured  to  enforce 
One  pearl  of  pity  from  her  pretty  eyes, 
Whilst  I  with  restless  rivers  of  remorse, 
Have  bathed  the  banks  where  my  fair  Phillis 
lies. 
The  moaning  lines  which  weeping  I  have  written, 
And  writing  read  unto  my  ruthful  sheep, 
And  reading  sent  with  tears  that  never  fitten, 
To  my  love's  queen,  that  hath  my  heart  in  keep, 

Have  made  my  lambkins  lay  them  down  and  sigh; 

But  Phillis  sits,  and  reads,  and  calls  them  trifles. 

Oh  heavens,  why  climb  not  happy  lines  so  high, 

To  rent  that  ruthless  heart  that  all  hearts  rifles  ! 

None  writes  with  truer  faith,  or  greater  love ; 

Yet  out,  alas  !  I  have  no  power  to  move. 


w]  Phillis.  5 

SONNET   V. 

H  PALE  and  dying  infant  of  the  spring, 
How  rightly  now  do  I  resemble  thee  ! 
That  self  same  hand  that  thee  from  stalk  did 
wring, 
Hath  rent  my  breast  and  robbed  my  heart  from  me. 

Yet  shalt  thou  live.     For  why  ?     Thy  native  vigour 
Shall  thrive  by  woeful  dew-drops  of  my  dolour ; 
And  from  the  wounds  I  bear  through  fancy's  rigour, 
My  streaming  blood  shall  yield  the  crimson  colour. 
The  ravished  sighs  that  ceaseless  take  their  issue 
From  out  the  furnace  of  my  heart  inflamed, 
To  yield  you  lasting  springs  shall  never  miss  you  ; 
So  by  my  plaints  and  pains,  you  shall  be  famed. 
Let  my  heart's  heat  and  cold,  thy  crimson  nourish, 
And  by  my  sorrows  let  thy  beauty  flourish. 


SONNET    VI. 

IT  IS  not  death  which  wretched  men  call  dying, 
But  that  is  very  death  which  I  endure, 
When    my    coy-looking    nymph,    her    grace 
envying, 
By  fatal  frowns  my  domage  doth  procure. 

It  is  not  life  which  we  for  life  approve, 
But  that  is  life  when  on  her  wool-soft  paps 
I  seal  sweet  kisses  which  do  batten  love, 
And  doubling  them  do  treble  my  good  haps. 

'Tis  neither  love  the  son,  nor  love  the  mother, 
Which  lovers  praise  and  pray  to  ;  but  that  love  is 
Which  she  in  eye  and  I  in  heart  do  smother. 
Then  muse  not  though  I  glory  in  my  miss, 

Since  she  who  holds  my  heart  and  me  in  durance, 
Hath  life,  death,  love  and  all  in  her  procurance. 


P II I LL  I S. 


L  Lodge. 
1593- 


SONNET   VII. 

jOw  languisheth  the  primrose  of  love's  garden  ! 
How  trill  her  tears,  th'  elixir  of  my  senses  ! 
Ambitious  sickness,  what  doth  thee  so  harden? 
Oh  spare,  and  plague  thou  me  for  her  offences  ! 
Ah  roses,  love's  fair  roses,  do  not  languish  ; 
Blush    through    the    milk-white    veil    that    holds    you 

covered. 
If  heat  or  cold  may  mitigate  your  anguish, 
I  '11  burn,  I  '11  freeze,  but  you  shall  be  recovered. 

Good  God,  would  beauty  mark  how  she  is  erased, 
How  but  one  shower  of  sickness  makes  her  tender, 
Her  judgments  then  to  mark  my  woes  amazed, 
To  mercy  should  opinion's  fort  surrender ! 

And  I, — oh  would  I  might,  or  would  she  meant  it ! 
Should  hery1  love,  who  now  in  heart  lament  it. 

1  i.e.  praise. 


SONNET    VIII. 

O  STARS  her  eyes  to  clear  the  wandering  night, 
But  shining  suns  of  true  divinity, 
That  make  the  soul  conceive  her  perfect  light ! 
No  wanton  beauties  of  humanity 
Her  pretty  brows,  but  beams  that  clear  the  sight 
Of  him  that  seeks  the  true  philosophy  ! 
No  coral  is  her  lip,  no  rose  her  fair, 
But  even  that  crimson  that  adorns  the  sun. 
No  nymph  is  she,  but  mistress  of  the  air, 
By  whom  my  glories  are  but  new  begun. 
But  when  I  touch  and  taste  as  others  do, 
I  then  shall  write,  and  you  shall  wonder  too. 


Lodge."! 
1 593- J 


P  H I L  L  1 S. 


SONNET    IX. 

He  dewy  roseate  Morn  had  with  her  hairs 
In  sundry  sorts  the  Indian  clime  adorned  ; 
And  now  her  eyes,  apparelled  in  tears, 
The  loss  of  lovely  Memnon  long  had  mourned 
When  as  she  spied  the  nymph  whom  I  admire, 
Combing  her  locks,  of  which  the  yellow  gold 
Made  blush  the  beauties  of  her  curled  wire, 
Which  heaven  itself  with  wonder  might  behold, 

Then,  red  with  shame,  her  reverend  locks  she  rent, 
And  weeping  hid  the  beauty  of  her  face  ; 
The  flower  of  fancy  wrought  such  discontent. 
The  sighs,  which  midst  the  air  she  breathed  a  space, 
A  three-days'  stormy  tempest  did  maintain, 
Her  shame  a  fire,  her  eyes  a  swelling  rain. 


SONNET    X. 

He  rumour  runs  that  here  in  Isis  swim 
Such  stately  swans  so  confident  in  dying, 
That  when  they  feel   themselves  near  Lethe's 
brim, 
They  sing  their  fatal  dirge  when  death  is  nighing. 

And  I,  like  these,  that  feel  my  wounds  are  mortal, 
Contented  die  for  her  whom  I  adore ; 
And  in  my  joyful  hymns  do  still  exhort  all 
To  die  for  such  a  saint  or  love  no  more. 
Not  that  my  torments  or  her  tyranny 
Enforce  me  to  enjoin  so  hard  a  task, 
But  for  I  know,  and  yield  no  reason  why, 
But  will  them  try  that  have  desire  to  ask. 
As  love  hath  wreaths  his  pretty  eyes  to  seel, 
So  lovers  must  keep  secret  what  they  feel. 


8 


P  HILLIS. 


[Lodge. 
J593- 


SONNET    XI. 

V  FRAIL  and  earthly  bark,  by  reason's  guide, 
Which  holds  the  helm,  whilst  will  doth  wield 

the  sail, 
By  my  desires,  the  winds  of  bad  betide, 
Hath  sailed  these  worldly  seas  with  small  avail, 
Vain  objects  serve  for  dreadful  rocks  to  quail 
My  brittle  boat  from  haven  of  life  that  flies 
To  haunt  the  sea  of  mundane  miseries. 
My  soul  that  draws  impressions  from  above, 

And  views  my  course,  and  sees  the  winds  aspire, 
Bids  reason  watch  to  'scape  the  shoals  of  love ; 
But  lawless  will  enflamed  with  endless  ire 
Doth  steer  empoop,  whilst  reason  doth  retire. 

The  streams  increase ;  love's  waves  my  bark  do  fill ; 
Thus  are  they  wracked  that  guide  their  course  by  will. 

SONNET    XII. 

^H,  TREES,  why  fall  your  leaves  so  fast? 
Ah  rocks,  where  are  your  robes  of  moss  ? 
Ah  flocks,  why  stand  you  all  aghast? 
Trees,  rocks,  and  flocks,  what,  are  you  pensive 
for  my  loss  ? 
The  birds,  methinks,  tune  naught  but  moan, 
The  winds  breathe  naught  but  bitter  plaint, 
The  beasts  forsake  their  dens  to  groan  ; 
Birds,  winds,  and  beasts,  what  doth  my  loss  your  powers 
attaint? 
Floods  weep  their  springs  above  their  bounds, 
And  echo  wails  to  see  my  woe, 
The  robe  of  ruth  doth  clothe  the  grounds ; 
Floods,  echo,  grounds,  why  do  you  all  these  tears  bestow? 
The  trees,  the  rocks,  and  flocks  reply, 
The  birds,  the  winds,  the  beasts  report, 
Floods,  echo,  grounds,  for  sorrow  cry, 
We  grieve  since  Phillis  nill  kind  Damon's  love  consort. 


*&]  Phillis.  9 

SONNET    XIII. 

Ove  guides  the  roses  of  thy  lips, 
And  flies  about  them  like  a  bee ; 
If  I  approach  he  forward  skips, 
And  if  I  kiss  he  stingeth  me. 
Love  in  thine  eyes  doth  build  his  bower, 
And  sleeps  within  their  pretty  shine; 
And  if  I  look  the  boy  will  lower, 
And  from  their  orbs  shoot  shafts  divine. 
Love  works  thy  heart  within  his  fire, 
And  in  my  tears  doth  firm  the  same ; 
And  if  I  tempt  it  will  retire, 
And  of  my  plaints  doth  make  a  game. 

Love,  let  me  cull  her  choicest  flowers, 
And  pity  me,  and  calm  her  eye, 
Make  soft  her  heart,  dissolve  her  lowers, 
Then  will  I  praise  thy  deity. 

But  if  thou  do  not  love,  I  '11  truly  serve  her. 
In  spite  of  thee,  and  by  firm  faith  deserve  her. 

SONNET    XIV. 

Wrote  in  Mirrha's  bark,  and  as  I  wrote, 
Poor  Mirrha  wept  because  I  wrote  forsaken ; 
'Twas  of  thy  pride  I  sung  in  weeping  note, 
When  as  her  leaves  great  moan  for  pity  maken. 
The  falling  fountains  from  the  mountains  falling, 
Cried  out,  alas,  so  fair  and  be  so  cruel ! 
And  babbling  echo  never  ceased  calling, 
Phillis,  disdain  is  fit  for  none  but  truthless. 
The  rising  pines  wherein  I  had  engraved 
Thy  memory  consulting  with  the  wind, 
Are  trucemen  to  thy  heart  and  thoughts  depraved, 
And  say,  thy  kind  should  not  be  so  unkind. 
But,  out  alas!  so  fell  is  Phillis  fearless, 
That  she  hath  made  her  Damon  well-nigh  tearless. 

XV.  and  XVI. — These  poems  are  not  in  sonnet  form  and  are  omitted. 


IO 


P  HILL  IS. 

SONNET    XVII. 


["Lodge. 
L     1593- 


H,  FLEETING  weal !  ah,  sly  deluding  sleep, 
That  in  one  moment  giv'st  me  joy  and  pain ! 
How  do  my  hopes  dissolve  to  tears  in  vain, 
As  wont  the  snows,  'fore  angry  sun  to  weep  ! 
Ah,  noisome  life  that  hath  no  weal  in  keep ! 
My  forward  grief  hath  form  and  working  might ; 
My  pleasures,  like  the  shadows,  take  their  flight; 
My  path  to  bliss  is  tedious,  long,  and  steep. 

Twice  happy  thou  Endymion  that  embracest 
The  live-long  night  thy  love  within  thy  arms, 
Where  thou  fond  dream  my  longed  weal  defacest 
Whilst  fleeting  and  uncertain  shades  thou  placest 
Before  my  eyes  with  false  deluding  charms  ! 
Ah,  instant  sweets  which  do  my  heart  revive, 
How  should  I  joy  if  you  were  true  alive! 


SONNET    XVIII. 

S  WHERE  two  raging  venoms  are  united, 

Which    of    themselves    dissevered    life    would 

sever, 
The  sickly  wretch  of  sickness  is  acquited, 
Which  else  should  die,  or  pine  in  torments  ever ; 

So  fire  and  frost,  that  hold  my  heart  in  seizure, 
Restore  those  ruins  which  themselves  have  wrought, 
Where  if  apart  they  both  had  had  their  pleasure, 
The  earth  long  since  her  fatal  claim  had  caught. 
Thus  two  united  deaths  keep  me  from  dying ; 
I  burn  in  ice,  and  quake  amidst  the  fire, 
No  hope  midst  these  extremes  or  favour  spying ; 
Thus  love  makes  me  a  martyr  in  his  ire. 
So  that  both  cold  and  heat  do  rather  feed 
My  ceaseless  pains,  than  any  comfort  breed. 


Lodge.") 
»593- J 


P  H I L  L  I S. 

SONNET    XIX. 


II 


9m 

£1 

Hou  tyrannising  monarch  that  dost  tire 

My   love-sick   heart   through  those  assaulting 

eyes, 
That  are  the  lamps  which  lighten  my  desire! 
If  nought  but  death  thy  fury  may  suffice, 

Not  for  my  peace,  but  for  thy  pleasure  be  it, 
That  Phillis,  wrathful  Phillis,  that  repines  me 
All  grace  but  death,  may  deign  to  come  and  see  it, 
And  seeing  grieve  at  that  which  she  assigns  me. 

This  only  boon  for  all  my  mortal  bane 
I  crave  and  cry  for  at  thy  mercy  seat : 
That  when  her  wrath  a  faithful  heart  hath  slain, 
And  soul  is  fled,  and  body  reft  of  heat, 

She  might  perceive  how  much  she  might  command 
That  had  my  life  and  death  within  her  hand. 


SONNET    XX. 

Ome  praise  the  looks,  and  others  praise  the  locks 
Of  their  fair  queens,  in  love  with  curious  words; 
Some  laud  the  breast  where  love  his  treasure 
locks 
All  like  the  eye  that  life  and  love  affords. 

But  none  of  these  frail  beauties  and  unstable 
Shall  make  my  pen  riot  in  pompous  style ; 
More  greater  gifts  shall  my  grave  muse  enable, 
Whereat  severer  brows  shall  never  smile. 
I  praise  her  honey-sweeter  eloquence, 
Which  from  the  fountain  of  true  wisdom  floweth, 
Her  modest  mien  that  matcheth  excellence, 
Her  matchless  faith  which  from  her  virtue  groweth  ; 
And  could  my  style  her  happy  virtues  equal, 
Time  had  no  power  her  glories  to  enthral. 


I  2 


P  HI  LL  IS. 


[Lodge. 
1593- 


SONNET    XXI. 

E  HERALDS  of  my  heart,  mine  ardent  groans, 
Oh,   tears   which    gladly   would    burst  out  to 

brooks, 
Oh,  spent  on  fruitless  sand  my  surging  moans, 
Oh,  thoughts  enthralled  unto  care-boding  looks  ! 

Ah,  just  laments  of  my  unjust  distress, 
Ah,  fond  desires  whom  reason  could  not  guide ! 
Oh,  hopes  of  love  that  intimate  redress, 
Yet  prove  the  load-stars  unto  bad  betide ! 

When  will  you  cease  ?     Or  shall  pain  never-ceasing, 
Seize  on  my  heart?     Oh,  mollify  your  rage, 
Lest  your  assaults  with  over-swift  increasing, 
Procure  my  death,  or  call  on  timeless  age. 

What  if  they  do?     They  shall  but  feed  the  fire, 
Which  I  have  kindled  by  my  fond  desire. 


SONNET    XXII. 

Air  art  thou,  Phillis,  ay,  so  fair,  sweet  maid 
As  nor  the  sun,  nor  I  have  seen  more  fair , 
For  in  thy  cheeks  sweet  roses  are  embayed, 
And  gold  more  pure  than  gold  doth  gild  thy 
hair. 
Sweet  bees  have  hived  their  honey  on  thy  tongue, 
And  Hebe  spiced  her  nectar  with  thy  breath  ; 
About  thy  neck  do  all  the  graces  throng, 
And  lay  such  baits  as  might  entangle  death. 

In  such  a  breast  what  heart  would  not  be  thrall 
From  such  sweet  arms  who  would  not  wish  embraces? 
At  thy  fair  hands  who  wonders  not  at  all, 
Wonder  itself  through  ignorance  embases? 

Yet  natheless  though  wondrous  gifts  you  call  these, 
My  faith  is  far  more  wonderful  than  all  these. 


^•■J]  Phil  lis.  13 

SONNET    XXIII. 

URST,  burst,  poor  heart !     Thou  hast  no  longer 
hope  ; 
Captive  mine  eyes  unto  eternal  sleep  ; 
Let  all  my  senses  have  no  further  scope ; 
Let  death  be  lord  of  me  and  all  my  sheep  ! 
For  Phillis  hath  betrothed  fierce  disdain, 
That  makes  his  mortal  mansion  in  her  heart ; 
And  though  my  tongue  have  long  time  taken  pain 
To  sue  divorce  and  wed  her  to  desert. 

She  will  not  yield,  my  words  can  have  no  power ; 
She  scorns  my  faith,  she  laughs  at  my  sad  lays, 
She  fills  my  soul  with  never-ceasing  sour, 
Who  filled  the  world  with  volumes  of  her  praise. 
In  such  extremes  what  wretch  can  cease  to  crave 
His  peace  from  death,  who  can  no  mercy  have ! 


SONNET    XXIV. 

|0  GLORY  makes  me  glorious  or  glad, 

Nor  pleasure  may  to  pleasure  me  dispose, 
No  comfort  can  revive  my  senses  sad, 
Nor  hope  enfranchise  me  with  one  repose. 
Nor  in  her  absence  taste  I  one  delight. 
Nor  in  her  presence  am  I  well  content  ; 
Was  never  time  gave  term  to  my  despite, 
Nor  joy  that  dried  the  tears  of  my  lament. 

Nor  hold  I  hope  of  weal  in  memory, 
Nor  have  I  thought  to  change  my  restless  grief, 
Nor  doth  my  conquest  yield  me  sovereignty, 
Nor  hope  repose,  nor  confidence  relief. 

For  why?     She  sorts  her  frowns  and  favours  so, 
As  when  I  gain  or  lose  I  cannot  know. 


i4 


P  H I  L  L  IS. 


[Lodge. 
1593- 


SONNET    XXV. 


WAGE  the  combat  with  two  mighty  foes, 
Which  are  more  strong  than  I  ten  thousand  fold 
The  one  is  when  thy  pleasure  I  do  lose, 
The  other,  when  thy  person  I  behold. 
In  seeing  thee  a  swarm  of  loves  confound  me 
And  cause  my  death  in  spite  of  my  resist, 
And  if  I  see  thee  not,  thy  want  doth  wound  me, 
For  in  thy  sight  my  comfort  doth  consist. 
The  one  in  me  continual  care  createth, 
The  other  doth  occasion  my  desire ; 
The  one  the  edge  of  all  my  joy  rebateth, 
The  other  makes  me  a  phcenix  in  love's  fire. 
So  that  I  grieve  when  I  enjoy  your  presence, 
And  die  for  grief  by  reason  of  your  absence. 


SONNET    XXVI. 


'LL  teach  thee,  lovely  Phillis,  what  love  is. 
It  is  a  vision  seeming  such  as  thou, 
That  flies  as  fast  as  it  assaults  mine  eye?  ; 
It  is  affection  that  doth  reason  miss ; 
It  is  a  shape  of  pleasure  like  to  you, 
Which  meets  the  eye,  and  seen  on  sudden  dies  ; 
It  is  a  double  grief,  a  spark  of  pleasure 
Begot  by  vain  desire.     And  this  is  love 

Whom  in  our  youth  we  count  our  chiefest  treasure, 
In  age  for  want  of  power  we  do  reprove. 
Yea,  such  a  power  is  love,  whose  loss  is  pain, 
And  having  got  him  we  repent  our  gain. 


Lodge."] 
1593- J 


P  H I LLIS. 


15 


SONNET    XXVII. 

AlR  eyes,  whilst  fearful  I  your  fair  admire, 
By  unexpressed  sweetness  that  I  gain, 
My  memory  of  sorrow  doth  expire, 
And  falcon-like  I  tower  joy's  heavens  amain, 
But  when  your  suns  in  oceans  of  their  glory 
Shut  up  their  day-bright  shine,  I  die  for  thought ; 
So  pass  my  joys  as  doth  a  new-played  story, 
And  one  poor  sigh  breaths  all  delight  to  naught. 

So  to  myself  I  live  not,  but  for  you  ; 
For  you  I  live,  and  you  I  love,  but  none  else. 
Oh  then,  fair  eyes,  whose  light  I  live  to  view, 
Or  poor  forlorn  despised  to  live  alone  else, 

Look  sweet,  since  from  the  pith  of  contemplation 
Love  gathereth  life,  and  living,  breedeth  passion. 


SONNET    XXVIII. 

[Ot  causeless  were  you  christened,  gentle  flowers, 
The  one  of  faith,  the  other  fancy's  pride ; 
For   she   who   guides   both   faith    and    fancy's 
power, 
In  your  fair  colours  wraps  her  ivory  side. 

As  one  of  you  hath  whiteness  without  stain, 
So  spotless  is  my  love  and  never  tainted  ; 
And  as  the  other  shadoweth  faith  again, 
Such  is  my  lass,  with  no  fond  change  acquainted. 

And  as  nor  tyrant  sun  nor  winter  weather 
May  ever  change  sweet  amaranthus'  hue, 
So  she  though  love  and  fortune  join  together, 
Will  never  leave  to  be  both  fair  and  true. 

And  should  I  leave  thee  there,  thou  pretty  elf? 
Nay,  first  let  Damon  quite  forget  himself. 


i6 


P  II I  L  L  I S. 


[''!' 


I  .edge. 
593- 


SONNET    XXIX. 

FEEL  myself  endangered  beyond  reason, 
My  death  already  'twixt  the  cup  and  Up, 
Because  my  proud  desire  through  cursed  treason 
Would  make  my  hopes  mount  heaven,  which 
cannot  skip  ; 
My  fancy  still  requireth  at  my  hands 
Such  things  as  are  not,  cannot,  may  not  be, 
And  my  desire  although  my  power  withstands 
Will  give  me  wings,  who  never  yet  could  flee. 
What  then  remains  except  my  maimed  soul 
Extort  compassion  from  love-flying  age, 
Or  if  naught  else  their  fury  may  control, 
To  call  on  death  that  quells  affection's  rage  ; 
Which  death  shall  dwell  with  me  and  never  fly, 
Since  vain  desire  seeks  that  hope  doth  deny. 


SONNET    XXX. 

Do  compare  unto  thy  youthly  clear, 
Which  always  bides  within  thy  flow'ring  prime, 
The  month  of  April,  that  bedews  our  clime 
With    pleasant   flowers,   when   as   his    showers 
appear. 
Before  thy  face  shall  fly  false  cruelty, 
Before  his  face  the  doly  season  fleets  ; 
Mild  been  his  looks,  thine  eyes  are  full  of  sweets; 
Firm  is  his  course,  firm  is  thy  loyalty. 

He  paints  the  fields  through  liquid  crystal  showers, 
Thou  paint'st  my  verse  with  Pallas'  learned  flowers ; 
With  Zephirus'  sweet  breath  he  fills  the  plains, 
And  thou  my  heart  with  weeping  sighs  dost  wring ; 
His  brows  are  dewed  with  morning's  crystal  spring, 
Thou  mak'st  my  eyes  with  tears  bemoan  my  pains. 


Lodge."] 
•593-1 


P  H  I  L  L  1  S. 


17 


SONNET    XXXI. 

EvoiD  of  reason,  thrall  to  foolish  ire, 
I  walk  and  chase  a  savage  fairy  still, 
Now  near  the  flood,  straight  on  the  mounting 
hill, 
Now  midst  the  woods  of  youth,  and  vain  desire. 

For  leash  I  bear  a  cord  of  careful  grief; 
For  brach  I  lead  an  over-forward  mind  ; 
My  hounds  are  thoughts,  and  rage  despairing  blind, 
Pain,  cruelty,  and  care  without  relief. 

But  they  perceiving  that  my  swift  pursuit 
My  flying  fairy  cannot  overtake, 
With  open  mouths  their  prey  on  me  do  make, 
Like  hungry  hounds  that  lately  lost  their  suit. 
And  full  of  fury  on  their  master  feed, 
To  hasten  on  my  hapless  death  with  speed. 


SONNET    XXXII. 

Thousand  times  to  think  and  think  the  same 
To  two  fair  eyes  to  show  a  naked  heart, 
Great  thirst  with  bitter  liquor  to  restrain, 
To  take  repast  of  care  and  crooked  smart ; 
To  sigh  full  oft  without  relent  of  ire, 
To  die  for  grief  and  yet  conceal  the  tale, 
To  others'  will  to  fashion  my  desire, 
To  pine  in  looks  disguised  through  pensive-pale; 

A  short  despite,  a  faith  unfeigned  true, 

To  love  my  foe,  and  set  my  life  at  naught, 

With  heedless  eyes  mine  endless  harms  to  view 

A  will  to  speak,  a  fear  to  tell  the  thought ; 

To  hope  for  all,  yet  for  despair  to  die, 

Is  of  my  life  the  certain  destiny. 


1 8  P  HILL  IS.  [L°,d5£ 

SONNET    XXXIII. 

HEN  first  sweet  Phillis,  whom  I  must  adore, 
'Gan  with  her  beauties  bless  our  wond'ring  sky, 
The  son  of  Rhea,  from  their  fatal  store 
Make  all  the  gods  to  grace  her  majesty. 
Apollo  first  his  golden  rays  among, 
Did  form  the  beauty  of  her  bounteous  eyes  ; 
He  graced  her  with  his  sweet  melodious  song, 
And  made  her  subject  of  his  poesies. 

The  warrior  Mars  bequeathed  her  fierce  disdain, 
Venus  her  smile,  and  Phcebe  all  her  fair, 
Python  his  voice,  and  Ceres  all  her  grain, 
The  moon  her  locks  and  fingers  did  repair. 

Young  Love,  his  bow,  and  Thetis  gave  her  feet ; 
Clio  her  praise,  Pallas  her  science  sweet. 


SONNET    XXXIV. 

WOULD  in  rich  and  golden-coloured  rain, 
With  tempting  showers  in  pleasant  sort  descend 
Into  fair  Phillis'  lap,  my  lovely  friend, 
When  sleep  her  sense  with  slumber  doth  restrain. 
I  would  be  changed  to  a  milk-white  bull, 
When  midst  the  gladsome  field  she  should  appear, 
By  pleasant  fineness  to  surprise  my  dear, 
Whilst  from  their  stalks,  she  pleasant  flowers  did  pull. 

I  were  content  to  weary  out  my  pain, 
To  be  Narcissus  so  she  were  a  spring, 
To  drown  in  her  those  woes  my  heart  do  ring, 
And  more  ;  I  wish  transformed  to  remain, 
That  whilst  I  thus  in  pleasure's  lap  did  lie, 
I  might  refresh  desire,  which  else  would  die. 


Lodge. 
1593- 


P  H I L  L  I S. 


19 


SONNET    XXXV. 

Hope  and  fear,  I  pray  and  hold  my  peace, 
Now  freeze  my  thoughts  and  straight  they  fry 

again, 
I  now  admire  and  straight  my  wonders  cease, 
I  loose  my  bonds  and  yet  myself  restrain  ; 

This  likes  me  most  that  leaves  me  discontent, 
My  courage  serves  and  yet  my  heart  doth  fail, 
My  will  doth  climb  whereas  my  hopes  are  spent, 
I  laugh  at  love,  yet  when  he  comes  I  quail ; 
The  more  I  strive,  the  duller  bide  I  still, 
I  would  be  thanked,  and  yet  I  freedom  love, 
I  would  redress,  yet  hourly  feed  my  ill, 
I  would  repine,  and  dare  not  once  reprove ; 
And  for  my  love  I  am  bereft  of  power, 
And  strengthless  strive  my  weakness  to  devour. 


SONNET    XXXVI. 

F  SO  I  seek  the  shades,  I  presently  do  see 

The  god  of  love  forsakes  his  bow  and  sit  me  by  ; 
If  that  I  think  to  write,  his  Muses  pliant  be, 
If  so  I  plain  my  grief,  the  wanton  boy  will  cry, 
If  I  lament  his  pride,  he  doth  increase  my  pain  ; 
If  tears  my  cheeks  attaint,  his  cheeks  are  moist  with  moan  ; 
If  I  disclose  the  wounds  the  which  my  heart  hath  slain, 
He  takes  his  fascia  off,  and  wipes  them  dry  anon. 

If  so  I  walk  the  woods,  the  woods  are  his  delight, 
If  I  myself  torment,  he  bathes  him  in  my  blood  ; 
He  will  my  soldier  be  if  once  I  wend  to  fight, 
If  seas  delight,  he  steers  my  bark  amidst  the  flood. 
In  brief,  the  cruel  god  doth  never  from  me  go, 
But  makes  my  lasting  love  eternal  with  my  woe. 


20  run  i.  is.  [L^: 

SONNET    XXXVII. 

|l  [ESE  fierce  incessant  waves  that  stream  along-  my 
face, 
Which  show   the   certain    proof  of  my   ne'er- 
ceasing  pains, 
Fair  l'hillis,  are  no  tears  that  trickle  from  my  brains  ; 
For  why?     Such  streams  of  ruth  within  me  find  no  place. 
These  floods  that  wet  my  cheeks  are  gathered  from  thy 

grace 
And  thy  perfections,  and  from  hundred  thousand  flowers 
Which    from    thy    beauties    spring;     whereto    I    medley 

showers 
Of  rose  and  lilies  too,  the  colours  of  thy  face. 
My  love  doth  serve  for  fire,  my  heart  the  furnace  is, 
The  aperries  of  my  sighs  augment  the  burning  flame, 
The  limbec  is  mine  eye  that  doth  distil  the  same; 
And  by  how  much  my  fire  is  violent  and  sly, 
By  so  much  doth  it  cause  the  waters  mount  on  high, 
That   shower   from    out    mine   eyes,   for  to    assuage    my 
miss. 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

|Ho  lives  enthralled  to  Cupid  and  his  flame, 
From  day  to  day  is  changed  in  sundry  sort ; 
The  proof  whereof  myself  may  well  report, 
Who  oft  transformed   by  him   may  teach  the 
same. 
I  first  was  turned  into  a  wounded  hart, 
That  bare  the  bloody  arrow  in  my  side  ; 
Then  to  a  swan  that  midst  the  waters  glide, 
With  piteous  voice  presaged  my  deadly  smart; 


L^]  P HILL  IS.  21 

Eftsoons  I  waxed  a  faint  and  fading  flower; 
Then  was  I  made  a  fountain  sudden  dry, 
Distilling  all  my  tears  from  troubled  eye ; 
Now  am  I  salamander  by  his  power, 

Living  in  flames,  but  hope  ere  long  to  be 

A  voice,  to  talk  my  mistress'  majesty. 


SONNET    XXXIX. 

|Y  MATCHLESS  mistress,  whose  delicious  eyes 
Have  power  to  perfect  nature's  privy  wants, 
Even  when  the  sun  in  greatest  pomp  did  rise, 
With  pretty  tread  did  press  the  tender  plants. 
Each  stalk,  whilst  forth  she  stalks,  to  kiss  her  feet 
Is  proud  with  pomp,  and  prodigal  of  sweet. 

Her  fingers  fair  in  favouring  every  flower 

That  wooed  their  ivory  for  a  wished  touch, 

By  chance — sweet  chance — upon  a  blessed  hour 

Did  pluck  the  flower  where  Love  himself  did  couch, 
Where  Love  did  couch  by  summer  toil  suppressed, 
And  sought  his  sleep  within  so  sweet  a  nest. 

The  virgin's  hand  that  held  the  wanton  thrall, 

Imprisoned  him  within  the  roseate  leaves; 

And  twixt  her  teats,  with  favour  did  install 

The  lovely  rose,  where  Love  his  rest  receives. 
The  lad  that  felt  the  soft  and  sweet  so  nigh, 
Drowned  in  delights,  disdains  his  liberty, 

And  said,  let  Venus  seek  another  son, 

For  here  my  only  matchless  mother  is  ; 

From  whose  fair  orient  orbs  the  drink  doth  run, 

That  deifies  my  state  with  greater  bliss. 

This  said,  he  sucked,  my  mistress  blushing  smiled, 
Since  Love  was  both  her  prisoner  and  her  child. 


P  H ILLIS. 


TLodgt. 
L     1593- 


SONNET    XL. 


ESEMBLING  none,  and  none  so  poor  as  I, 
Poor  to  the  world,  and  poor  in  each  esteem, 
Whose  first-born  loves  at  first  obscured  did  die, 
And  bred  no  fame  but  flame  of  base  misdeem, 
Under  the  ensign  of  whose  tired  pen, 
Love's  legions  forth  have  masked,  by  others  masked  ; 
Think  how  I  live  wronged  by  ill-tongued  men, 
Not  master  of  myself,  to  all  wrongs  tasked  ! 

Oh  thou  that  canst,  and  she  that  may  do  all  things, 
Support  these  languishing  conceits  that  perish  ! 
Look  on  their  growth ;  perhaps  these  silly  small  things 
May  win  this  worthy  palm,  so  you  do  cherish. 
Homer  hath  vowed,  and  I  with  him  do  vow  this, 
He  will  and  shall  revive,  if  you  allow  this. 


L  I  C  I  A, 

or 
POEMS    OF    LOVE 

in  honour  of 

the  admirable  and   singular  virtues  of 

his   Lady. 

To  the  imitation  of 

the  best  Latin   Poets,  and  others. 


Whereunto    is    added 
The   Rising  to  the  Crown  of 
Richard  the  Third. 


Auxit  Musarum  numerum  Sappho  addita  Musis. 
Fcelix  si  savus,  sic  voluisset  Amor, 


25 


Ad  Amor-em. 

Si  coelum  patria  est  puer  beatum, 
Si  vero  peperit  Venus  benigna, 
Si  Nectar  tibi  Massicum  ministrat ; 
Si  sancta  Ambrosia  est  cibus  petitus, 
Quid  noctes  habitas,  diesque  mecum  ? 
Quid  victum  face  supplicemque  aduris  ? 
Quid  longam  lachrimis  sitim  repellis  ? 
Quid  nostrse  dape  pasceris  medullar ; 
O  vere  rabidum  genus  fserarum  : 
O  domo  stige  patriaque  digne  : 
Jam  levis  sumus  umbra,  quid  lacessis  ? 

Ad  Lectorem. 

Non  convitia,  nee  latrationes, 

Nee  Ronchos  timeo,  calumniasve, 

Nee  ullos  obelos  severiores. 

Non  quod  judicio  meo  Poeta 

Sim  tantus,  nihil  ut  queat  reprehendi : 

Sed  quod  judicio  meo  Poeta 

Sim  tarn  ridiculus,  parumque  doctus, 

Ut  nullum  fore  judicem  eruditum, 

Meos  carpere  qui  velit  labores  : 

Nam  quis  ^thiopem  velit  lavare  ? 


26 


To  the   Worshipful,   kind,   wise,  and 

virtuous   Lady,    the   Lady   Mollineux, 

Wife  to  the  right   Worshipful 

Sir   Richard  Mollineux  Knight. 

OwsOEVER,  in  the  settled  opinions  of  some 
wise  heads,  this  trifling  labour  may  easily  incur 
the  suspicion  of  two  evils ;  either  to  be  of  an 
idle  subject,  and  so  frivolous  ;  or  vainly  handled, 
and  so  odious :  yet  my  resolute  purpose  was  to  pro- 
ceed so  far  as  the  indifferent  [impartial]  Reader  might 
think  this  small  pains  to  be  rather  an  effect,  than  a  cause,  of 
idleness.  And  howsoever  LOVE,  in  this  Age,  hath  behaved 
himself  in  that  loose  manner  as  it  is  counted  a  disgrace  to 
give  him  but  a  kind  look :  yet  I  take  the  passion  in  itself  to 
be  of  that  honour  and  credit  as  it  is  the  perfect  resemblance 
of  the  greatest  happiness ;  and  rightly  valued  at  his  just 
price,  in  a  mind  that  is  sincerely  and  truly  amorous,  an  affec- 
tion of  the  greatest  virtue,  and  able  of  himself  to  eternize  the 
meanest  vassal. 

Concerning  the  handling  of  it,  especially  in  this  Age,  men 
may  wonder,  if  a  Scholar,  How  I  come  by  so  much  leisure  ? 
If  otherwise,  Why  a  Writer?  Indeed  to  say  truth,  though  I 
cannot  justly  challenge  the  first  name ;  yet  I  wish  none  to 
be  Writers,  save  only  such  as  know  Learning.  And  whereas 
my  thoughts  and  some  reasons  drew  me  rather  to  have  dealt 
in  causes  of  greater  weight ;  yet  the  present  jar  of  this  dis- 
agreeing Age  drives  me  into  a  fit  so  melancholy  as  I  only 
had  leisure  to  grow  passionate.  And  I  see  not  why,  upon 
our  dissensions,  I  may  not  sit  down  idle,  forsake  my  study, 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D.j        fRE     EpISTLE     DEDICATORY.  2  J 

and  go  sing  of  Love  ;  as  well  as  our  Brownists  forsake  the 
Church,  and  write  of  malice. 

And  that  this  is  a  matter  not  so  unfit  for  a  man,  either 
that  respecteth  himself,  or  is  a  Scholar;  peruse  but  the 
writings  of  former  times :  and  you  shall  see,  not  only  others 
in  other  countries,  as  Italy  and  France,  Men  of  Learning  and 
great  parts  to  have  written  Poems  and  Sonnets  of  Love ; 
but  even  amongst  us,  men  of  best  nobility  and  chiefest 
families  to  be  the  greatest  Scholars  and  most  renowned  in 
this  kind.  But  two  reasons  hath  made  it  a  thing  foolishly 
odious  in  this  Age.  The  one,  that  so  many  base  companions 
are  the  greatest  Writers.  The  other,  that  our  English  Gene- 
vian  Purity  hath  quite  debarred  us  of  honest  recreation :  yet 
the  great  Pillar,  as  they  make  him  [i.e.  Jean  Calvin],  of 
that  Cause  hath  shewed  us  as  much  wit  and  learning  in  this 
kind  as  any  other  before  or  since. 

Furthermore  for  all  students,  I  will  say  thus  much ;  that 
the  base  conceit  which  men  generally  have  of  their  wants  is 
such,  as  I  scarce  term  him  a  Scholar  that  hath  not  all  the 
accomplyments  {accomplishments}  of  a  Gentleman  ;  nor  suf- 
ficiently wise  that  will  not  take  opportunity  in  some  sort  to 
shew  it.  For  I  can  say  thus  much,  that  the  University 
wherein  I  lived  {evidently  Cambridge},  and  so  I  think  the 
other  [Oxford],  hath  so  many  wise,  excellent,  sufficient, 
men  as,  setting  their  learning  aside  wherein  they  are  most 
excellent,  yet  in  all  habiliments  of  a  Gentleman  they  are 
equal  to  any  besides.  This  would  that  worthy  Sydney  oft 
confess ;  and  [Sir  John]  Harington's  Ariosto  (which, 
Madam,  was  respected  so  much  by  you)  sheweth  that  his 
abode  was  in  King's  College  [Cambridge].  Yet  now  it  is 
grown  to  this  pass,  that  Learning  is  lightly  respected  ;  upon 
a  persuasion  that  it  is  to  be  found  everywhere:  a  thing 
untrue  and  unpossible. 

Now  in  that  I  have  written  Love  Sonnets ;  if  any  man 
measure  my  affection  by  my  style,  let  him  say,  I  am  in  love. 
No  great  matter  1     For  if  our  purest  Divines  have  not  been 


28  Thk  Epistle  Dedicatory.  [  G- Fle,ther'  L^; 

K>,  why  are  so  many  married?  I  mislike  not  that,  nor  I 
would  not  have  them  mislike  this.  For  a  man  may  be  in 
love,  and  not  marry;  and  yet  wise:  but  he  cannot  marry 
and  not  be  in  love,  but  be  a  mere  fool. 

Now  for  the  manner.  We  will  dispute  that  in  some  other 
place  ;  yet  take  this  by  the  way  :  though  I  am  so  liberal  to 
grant  thus  much — a  man  may  write  of  Love  and  not  be  in 
love  ;  as  well  as  of  husbandry  and  not  go  to  the  plough  ;  or 
of  witches  and  be  none  ;  or  of  holiness  and  be  flat  profane. 

But,  wise  and  kind  Lady,  not  to  trouble  your  ears  with 
this  idle  discourse,  let  this  suffice.  I  found  favours  unde- 
served in  such  manner  as  my  rude  ability  wants  means  to 
recompence ;  and  therefore  in  the  mean  time  I  request  you 
to  accept  this.  If  I  had  not  so  wondered  at  your  admirable 
and  rare  virtues  that  my  heart  was  surcharged  with  the 
exceeding  measure  of  your  worthiness,  I  had  not  written. 
You  are  happy  every  way,  and  so  reputed.  Live  so,  and  I 
wish  so  you  may  live  long  !  Excuse  me,  favour  me  :  and,  if  I 
live  (for  I  loath  to  admire  without  thankfulness),  ere  long  it 
shall  be  known  what  favours  I  received  from  wise  Sir 
Richard  ;  to  whom  in  all  kind  affects  I  rest  bound. 

For  the  Reader,  if  he  look  for  my  letters  to  crave  his 
favour  ;  he  is  far  deceived.  For  if  he  mislike  anything,  I  am 
sorry  he  took  the  pains  to  read  :  but  if  he  do,  let  him  dis- 
praise ;  I  much  care  not.  For  praise  is  not  but  as  men 
please,  and  it  is  no  chief  felicity.  For  I  have  heard  some 
men,  and  of  late,  for  Sermons  at  Paul's  Cross  and  for  other 
pains,  so  commended  by  all,  excepting  some  few  Cynics  that 
commend  none  that  do  well,  that  you  would  have  thought 
England  would  have  striven  for  their  speedy  preferment : 
but,  like  a  wonder,  it  last  but  nine  days  ;  and  all  is  quiet  and 
forgotten.  The  best  is,  they  are  young  men  and  may  live  to 
be  preferred  at  another  time.  So  what  am  I  worse  if  men 
mislike  and  use  terms  ?  I  can  say  as  much  by  them.  For 
our  great  men,  I  am  sure,  they  want  leisure  to  read :  and  if 
they  had  ;  yet,  for  the  most  part,  the  worst  speak  worst 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D.J     "J HE    EPISTLE    DEDICATORY. 


29 


Well  let  the  Printer  look  he  grow  not  a  beggar  by  such 
bargains,  the  Reader  that  he  lose  not  his  labour,  and  for 
mine  that  is  past !  And  whoso  wisely,  after  an  afternoon's 
sleep,  gapes,  and  saith,  "  O  how  young  men  spend  their  time 
idly ! "  ;  first,  let  him  spend  his  time  better  than  to  sleep : 
secondly,  he  knows  not  my  age.  I  feared  a  hot  ague ;  and, 
with  TASSO,  I  was  content  to  let  my  Wit  blood. 

But  leaving  these  to  their  dogged  humour ;  and  wishing 
your  Ladyship  all  happiness,  I  humbly  take  my  leave 

From  my  chamber.     September  4,  1593. 


W^ 


3° 


To  the  Reader. 

HAD  thought,  courteous  and  gentle  Reader,  not 
to  have  troubled  thy  patience  with  these  lines : 
but  that,  in  the  neglect  thereof,  I  should  either 
scorn  thee,  as  careless  of  thine  opinion,  a  thing 
savouring  of  a  proud  humour ;  or  despair  to  obtain  thy 
favour,  which  I  am  loath  to  conceive  of  thy  good  nature. 

If  I  were  known,  I  would  entreat  in  the  best  manner  ;  and 
speak  for  him  whom  thou  knewest.  But  being  not  known, 
thou  speakest  not  against  me ;  and  therefore  I  much  care 
not.  For  this  kind  of  poetry  wherein  I  wrote,  I  did  it  only 
to  try  my  humour.  And  for  the  matter  of  Love,  it  may  be 
I  am  so  devoted  to  some  one  into  whose  hands  these  may 
light  by  chance,  that  she  may  say,  which  thou  now  sayest 
"  That  surely  he  is  in  love : "  which  if  she  do,  then  have  I 
the  full  recompence  of  my  labour ;  and  the  Poems  have 
dealt  sufficiently  for  the  discharge  of  their  own  duty. 

This  Age  is  learnedly  wise,  and  faultless  in  this  kind  of 
making  their  wits  known  :  thinking  so  basely  of  our  bare 
English,  wherein  thousands  have  travailed  with  such  ill  luck, 
that  they  deem  themselves  barbarous  and  the  island  barren, 
unless  they  have  borrowed  from  Italy,  Spain,  and  France 
their  best  and  choicest  conceits.  For  my  own  part,  I  am  of 
this  mind  that  our  nation  is  so  exquisite  (neither  would  I 
overweeningly   seem    to    flatter    our    home-spun    stuff,   or 


G.  Fletcher,  LMV]  ToTHEREADER.  3I 

diminish  the  credit  of  our  brave  travellers)  that  neither 
Italy,  Spain,  nor  France  can  go  beyond  us  for  exact  in- 
vention. For  if  anything  be  odious  amongst  us,  it  is  the 
exile  of  our  old  manners,  and  some  base-born  phrases 
stuft  up  with  such  new  terms,  as  a  man  may  sooner  feel 
us  to  flatter  by  our  incrouching  eloquence  than  suspect  it 
from  the  ear. 

And  for  the  matter  of  Love,  where  every  man  takes  upon 
himself  to  court  exactly ;  I  could  justly  grace  (if  it  be  a 
grace  to  be  excellent  in  that  kind)  the  Inns  of  Court,  and 
some  Gentlemen  like[wise]  Students  in  both  Universities : 
whose  learning  and  bringing  up  together  with  their  fine 
natures  make  so  sweet  a  harmony  as,  without  partiality,  the 
most  injurious  will  prefer  them  before  all  others  ;  and  there- 
fore they  only  are  fitted  to  write  of  Love. 

For  others,  for  the  most  part,  are  men  of  mean  reachi 
whose  debased  minds  prey  upon  every  bad  dish.  Men  unfit 
to  know  what  Love  means ;  deluded  fondly  with  their  own 
conceit,  misdeeming  so  divine  a  fancy  ;  taking  it  to  be  the 
contentment  of  themselves,  the  shame  of  others,  the  wrong  of 
virtue ;  and  the  refiner  of  the  tongue,  boasting  of  some  few 
favours.  These  and  such  like  errors  (errors  hateful  to  an 
upright  mind)  commonly  by  learnless  heads  are  reputed  for 
Love's  Kingdom.  But  vain  men,  naturally  led ;  deluded 
themselves,  [they]  deceive  others. 

For  Love  is  a  goddess  (pardon  me  though  I  speak  like  a 
Poet)  not  respecting  the  contentment  of  him  that  loves  but 
the  virtues  of  the  beloved,  satisfied  with  wondering,  fed  with 
admiration,  respecting  nothing  but  his  Lady's  worthiness, 
made  as  happy  by  love  as  by  all  favours,  chaste  by  honour, 
far  from  violence :  respecting  but  one  ;  and  that  one  in  such 


To    the    Reader.       [g. ne.cher, ll.d 

kindness  honesty  truth  constancy  and  honour,  as  were  all 
tin-  World  offered  to  make  a  change,  yet  the  boot  were  too 
small,  and  therefore  bootless.  This  is  Love,  and  far  more 
than  this  ;  which  I  know  a  vulgar  head,  a  base  mind,  an 
ordinal}'  conceit,  a  common  person  will  not,  and  cannot, 
have.  Thus  do  I  commend  that  love  wherewith,  in  these 
Poems,  I  have  honoured  the  worthy  L  I  C  I  A. 

But  the  love  wherewith  Venus'  son  hath  injuriously  made 
spoil  of  thousands,  is  a  cruel  Tyrant :  occasion  of  sighs, 
oracle  of  lies,  enemy  of  pity,  way  of  error,  shape  of  incon- 
stancy, temple  of  treason,  faith  without  assurance,  monarch 
of  tears,  murderer  of  ease,  prison  of  hearts,  monster  of 
Nature,  poisoned  honey,  impudent  courtezan,  furious  bastard : 
and  in  one  word,  not  Love. 

Thus,  Reader,  take  heed  thou  err  not  1  Esteem  Love  as 
thou  ought[est] ! 

If  thou  muse,  What  my  Licia  is  ?  Take  her  to  be  some 
Diana,  at  the  least  chaste  ;  or  some  Minerva  :  no  Venus, 
fairer  far.  It  may  be  she  is  Learning's  Image,  or  some 
heavenly  wonder :  which  the  Precisest  may  not  mislike. 
Perhaps  under  that  name  I  have  shadowed  "  [The  Holy] 
Discipline."  It  may  be,  I  mean  that  kind  courtesy  which 
I  found  at  the  Patroness  of  these  Poems,  it  may  be  some 
College.  It  may  be  my  conceit,  and  pretend  nothing. 
Whatsoever  it  be ;  if  thou  like  it,  take  it !  and  thank  the 
worthy  Lady  Mollineux,  for  whose  sake  thou  hast  it : 
worthy  indeed,  and  so  not  only  reputed  by  me  in  private 
affection  of  thankfulness  ;  but  so  equally  to  be  esteemed  by 
all  that  know  her. 

For  if  I  had  not  received  of  her  and  good  Sir  Richard, 
of  kind  and  wise  Master  Lee,  of  eourteous  Master  HOUGH- 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D 


iLs93-]       T°   the    Reader. 


33 


TON,  all  matchless,  matched  in  one  kindred,  those  unrequit- 
able favours  ;  I  had  not  thus  idly  toyed. 

If  thou  mislike  it ;  yet  she,  or  they,  or  both,  or  divine 
LlCIA  shall  patronize  it :  or  if  none ;  I  will,  and  can,  do  it 
myself.  Yet  I  wish  thy  favour.  Do  but  say,  Thou  art  con- 
tent ;  and  I  rest  thine.  If  not,  Farewell !  till  we  both  meet. 
September  8.  1593. 


34 


To  Licia, 
the  wise,  \ind^  virtuous,  and  fair. 


]  Right  matchless   Star,    the  honour  of 
the  sky  ! 
From  whose  clear  shine  heaven's  vault 

hath  all  his  light. 
I  send  these  Poems  to  your  graceful 
eye. 
Do  you  but  take  them,  and  they  have  their  right. 

I  build  besides  a  Temple  to  your  name, 
Wherein  my  thoughts  shall  daily  sing  your  praise ; 
And  will  erect  an  Altar  for  the  same, 
Which  shall,  your  virtues  and  your  honour  raise. 

But  heaven,  the  Temple  of  your  honour  is  ; 
Whose  brazen  tops  your  worthy  self  made  proud  : 
The  ground  an  Altar,  base  for  such  a  bliss, 
With  pity  torn,  because  I  sighed  so  loud. 
And  since  my  skill  no  worship  can  impart ; 
Make  you  an  incense  of  my  loving  heart ! 


Fletcher,  LL.D 
1593 


:] 


L  I  C  I  A. 


35 


SONNET    I. 

Ad,  all  alone,  not  long  I  musing  sat 
But  that  my  thoughts  compelled  me  to  aspire. 
A  laurel  garland  in  my  hand  I  gat, 
So  the  Muses  I  approached  the  nigher. 
My  suit  was  this,  A  Poet  to  become ; 
To  drink  with  them,  and  from  the  heavens  be  fed. 
Phcebus  denied ;  and  sware,  "  There  was  no  room 
Such  to  be  Poets  as  fond  Fancy  led." 

With  that  I  mourned,  and  sat  me  down  to  weep. 
Venus  she  smiled,  and  smiling  to  me  said, 
"  Come  drink  with  me,  and  sit  thee  still  and  sleep  !  " 
This  voice  I  heard,  and  Venus  I  obeyed. 

That  poison,  Sweet,  hath  done  me  all  this  wrong ; 
For  now  of  Love  must  needs  be  all  my  Song. 


SONNET    II. 

EARY  was  Love,  and  sought  to  take  his  rest. 
He  made  his  choice  upon  a  Virgin's  lap ; 
And  slyly  crept  from  thence  into  her  breast, 
Where  still  he  meant  to  sport  him  in  his  hap. 
The  Virgin  frowned,  like  PHCEBUS  in  a  cloud, 
"  Go  pack,  sir  boy,  here  is  no  room  for  such ! 
My  breast,  no  wanton  foolish  boys  must  shroud ! " 
This  said,  my  Love  did  give  the  Wag  a  touch. 

Then  as  the  foot,  that  treads  the  stinging  snake, 
Hastes  to  be  gone,  for  fear  what  may  ensue : 
So  Love,  my  Love  was  forced  for  to  forsake ; 
And,  for  more  speed,  without  his  arrows  flew. 
"  Pardon !  "  he  said,  "  for  why  you  seemed  to  me, 
My  mother  VENUS  in  her  pride  to  be." 


L  1  C  1  A. 


t°- 


Fletcher,  LL.D 
1593- 


k2 

SONNET    III. 

HE  heavens  beheld  the  beauty  of  my  Queen  ; 
And  all  amazed,  to  wonder  thus  began  : 
"  Why  dotes  not  Jove,  as  erst  we  all  have  seen, 
And  shapes  himself  like  to  a  seemly  man  ? 
Mean  are  the  matches  which  he  sought  before ; 
Like  bloomless  buds,  too  base  to  make  compare : 
And  she  alone  hath  treasured  Beauty's  store ; 
In  whom  all  gifts  and  princely  graces  are." 

Cupid  replied,  "  I  posted  with  the  sun 
To  view  the  Maids  that  lived  in  all  those  days : 
And  none  there  was  that  might  not  well  be  won, 
But  She  ;  most  hard,  most  cold,  made  of  delays." 
Heavens  were  deceived,  and  wrong  they  do  esteem  ; 
She  hath  no  heat,  although  She  living  seem. 


SONNET    IV. 

Ove  and  my  Love  did  range  the  forest  wild, 
Mounted  alike  upon  swift  coursers  both. 
Love  her  encountered,  though  he  was  a  child, 
"  Let's  strive  ! "  said  he.      Whereat  my  Love 
was  wroth ; 
And  scorned  the  boy,  and  checked  him  with  a  smile. 
"  I  mounted  am,  and  armed  with  my  spear. 
Thou  art  too  weak  !     Thyself  do  not  beguile  ! 
I  could  thee  conquer,  if  I  naked  \unarmed\  were  !" 

With  this  Love  wept,  and  then  my  Love  replied  : 
"  Kiss  me,  sweet  boy,  so  !     Weep,  my  boy,  no  more  !  " 
Thus  did  my  Love,  and  thus  her  force  she  tried : 
Love  was  made  ice,  that  fire  was  before. 
A  kiss  of  hers  (as  I,  poor  soul,  do  prove) 
Can  make  the  hottest,  freeze ;  and  coldest  love. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D.-J 
1593- J 


L  I  C  I  A. 


37 


SONNET    V. 

Ove,  with  her  hair,  my  Love  by  force  hath  tied  ; 
To  serve  her  lips,  her  eyes,  her  voice,  her  hand. 
I  smiled  for  joy  when  I  the  boy  espied 
To  lie  unchained,  and  live  at  her  command. 
She,  if  She  look,  or  kiss,  or  sing,  or  smile  ; 
Cupid  withal  doth  smile,  doth  sing,  doth  kiss. 
Lips,  hands,  voice,  eyes,  all  hearts  that  may  beguile ; 
Because  She  scorns,  all  hearts  but  only  this. 

VENUS  for  this  in  pride  began  to  frown, 
That  Cupid,  born  a  god,  inthralled  should  be : 
She,  in  disdain,  her  pretty  son  threw  down  ; 
And  in  his  place,  with  love  she  chained  me. 
So  now,  sweet  Love,  tho'  I  myself  be  thrall  ; 
Not  her  a  goddess,  but  thyself,  1  call. 


SONNET    VI. 

Y  Love,  amazed,  did  blush  herself  to  see, 
Pictured  by  Art,  all  naked  as  she  was. 
"  How  could  the  Painter  know  so  much  by  mej 
Or  Art  effect  what  he  hath  brought  to  pass  ? 
It  is  not  like,  he  naked  me  hath  seen  ; 
Or  stood  so  nigh  for  to  observe  so  much." 
No,  Sweet,  his  eyes  so  near  have  never  been  ; 
Nor  could  his  hands  by  Art  have  cunning  such  : 
I  showed  my  heart,  wherein  you  printed  were ; 
You,  naked  you,  as  here  you  painted  are. 
In  that,  my  Love,  your  picture  I  must  wear ; 
And  show  't  to  all,  unless  you  have  more  care : 
Then  take  my  heart,  and  place  it  with  your  own ! 
So  shall  you  naked  never  more  be  known. 


LlC  I  A.  [G.  Fletcher,  LL.B 

SONNET    VII. 

|EATH,  in  .1  rage,  assaulted  once  my  heart 
With  love  of  her,  my  love  that  doth  deny. 
I  scorned  his  force,  and  wished  him  to  depart, 
I  heartless  was,  and  therefore  could  not  die. 
her.     In  her  I  placed  my  life. 
Slu-  guides  my  soul,  and  her  I  honour  must. 
Nor  is  this  life  ;  but  yet  a  living  strife: 
A  thing  unmeet,  and  yet  a  thing  most  just. 

CUPID,  enraged,  did  fly  to  make  me  love ; 
My  heart  lay  guarded  with  those  burning  eyes, 
The  sparks  whereof  denied  him  to  remove  : 
So  conquered  now,  he  like  a  captive  lies. 
Thus  two  at  once  by  love  are  both  undone : 
My  heart  not  loved ;  and  armless  VENUS'  son. 


SONNET   VIII. 

Ard  are  the  rocks,  the  marble,  and  the  steel, 
The  ancient  oak  with  wind  and  weather  tosst  \ 
But  you,  my  Love,  far  harder  do  I  feel 
Than  flint,  or  these,  or  is  the  winter's  frost. 
My  tears  too  weak,  your  heart  they  cannot  move ; 
My  sighs,  that  rock,  like  wind  it  cannot  rent ; 
Too  tiger-like,  you  swear  you  cannot  love : 
But  tears  and  sighs  you  fruitless  back  have  sent. 
The  frost  too  hard,  not  melted  with  my  flame  ; 
I  cinders  am,  and  yet  you  feel  no  heat : 
Surpass  not  these,  sweet  Love,  for  very  shame ! 
But  let  my  tears,  my  vows,  my  sighs  entreat! 
Then  shall  I  say,  as  I  by  trial  find, 
These  all  are  hard  ;  but  you,  my  Love,  are  kind. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 
1593- 


L   I  C  I  A. 


39 


SONNET    IX. 

OVE  was  laid  down,  all  weary,  fast  asleep ; 
Whereas  my  Love  his  armour  took  away. 
The  boy  awaked,  and  straight  began  to  weep ; 
But  stood  amazed,  and  knew  not  what  to  say. 
"  Weep  not,  my  boy,"  said  Venus  to  her  son, 
"  Thy  weapons  none  can  wield  but  thou  alone. 
LlCIA  the  Fair,  this  harm  to  thee  hath  done ; 
I  saw  her  here,  and  presently  was  gone. 

She  will  restore  them,  for  she  hath  no  need 
To  take  thy  weapons,  where  thy  valour  lies. 
For  men  to  wound,  the  Fates  have  her  decreed 
With  favour,  hands,  with  beauty,  and  with  eyes." 
No,  Venus,  no !     She  scorns  them,  credit  me ! 
But  robbed  thy  son,  that  none  might  care  for  thee ! 


SONNET    X 

Painter  drew  the  image  of  the  boy, 
Swift  LOVE,  with  wings,  all  naked,  and  yet  blind ; 
With  bow  and  arrows  bent  for  to  destroy. 
I  blamed  his  skill ;  and  fault  I  thus  did  find : 
"  A  needless  task  I  see  thy  cunning  take : 
Misled  by  love,  thy  fancy  thee  betrayed. 
Love  is  no  boy,  nor  blind,  as  men  him  make ; 
Nor  weapons  wears,  whereof  to  be  afraid  : 

But  if  thou  Love  wilt  paint  with  greatest  skill ; 
A  Love,  a  Maid,  a  goddess,  and  a  Queen  ! 
Wonder  and  view  at  LlClA's  picture  still ! 
For  other  Love,  the  World  hath  never  seen. 
For  She  alone,  all  hope,  all  comfort,  gives : 
Men's  hearts,  souls  all,  led  by  her  favour,  live." 


r     ,    _    -     .  fG.  Fletcher,  LL.D 

/.     /    L    1   ./.  L  1593 

SONNET    XI. 

N    Ida  Yale  three  Queens,  the  Shepherd  saw; 
(  |ueens  of  esteem,  divine,  they  were  all  three. 
A  sight  of  worth,  but  I  a  wonder  show: 
Their  virtues  all  in  one  alone  to  be. 
1 . 1 '  l A  the  Fair  surpassing  VENUS's  pride, 
The  matchless  Queen,  commander  of  the  gods, 
When,  drawn  with  doves,  she  in  her  pomp  doth  rid.;) 
Hath  far  more  beauty  and  more  grace  by  odds : 
J  UNO,  Jove's  wife,  unmeet  to  make  compare; 
I  grant  a  goddess,  but  not  half  so  mild  : 
MINERVA  wise,  a  virtue  ;  but  not  rare. 
Yet  these  are  mean,  if  that  my  Love  but  smiled. 
She  them  surpasseth,  when  their  prides  are  full, 
As  far  as  they  surpass  the  meanest  trull. 


SONNET    XII. 

WISH  sometimes,  although  a  worthless  thing, 
Spurred  by  ambition,  glad  for  to  aspire, 
Myself  a  Monarch,  or  some  mighty  King : 
And  then  my  thoughts  do  wish  for  to  be  higher 
But  when  I  view  what  winds  the  cedars  toss, 
What  storms  men  feel  that  covet  for  renown  ; 
I  blame  myself  that  I  have  wished  my  loss  : 
And  scorn  a  Kingdom,  though  it  give  a  Crown. 

A'  Licia  thou,  the  wonder  of  my  thought, 
My  heart's  content,  procurer  of  my  bliss  ; 
For  whom,  a  Crown  I  do  esteem  as  nought: 
And  Asia's  wealth,  too  mean  to  buy  a  kiss. 
Kiss  me,  sweet  Love!  this  favour  do  for  me; 
Then  Crowns  and  Kingdoms  shall  I  scorn  for  thee. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D 
IS93 


] 


L  I  C  I  A. 


41 


SONNET     XIII. 

NAMOURED  Jove,  commanding,  did  entreat 
CUPID  to  wound  my  Love  :  which  he  denied, 
And  swore  he  could  not,  for  she  wanted  heat ; 
And  would  not  love,  as  he  full  oft  had  tried. 
JOVE,  in  a  rage,  impatient  this  to  hear, 
Replied  with  threats,  "  I'll  make  you  to  obey ! " 
Whereat  the  boy  did  fly  away  for  fear 
To  Licia's  eyes,  where  safe  entrenched  he  lay. 

Then  JOVE,  he  scorned  ;  and  dared  him  to  his  face  : 
For  now  more  safe  than  in  the  heavens  he  dwelled  ; 
Nor  could  Jove's  wrath  do  wrong  to  such  a  place, 
Where  Grace  and  Honour  have  their  kingdom  held. 
Thus,  in  the  pride  and  beauty  of  her  eyes, 
The  silly  boy,  the  greatest  god  defies. 


SONNET     XIV. 

Y  Love  lay  sleeping  where  birds  music  made, 
Shutting  her  eyes,  disdainful  of  the  light : 
The  heat  was  great ;  but  greater  was  the  shade 
Which  her  defended  from  his  burning  sight. 
This  Cupid  saw,  and  came  a  kiss  to  take ; 
Sucking  sweet  nectar  from  her  sugared  breath. 
She  felt  the  touch,  and  blushed,  and  did  awake. 
Seeing  'twas  LOVE,  which  she  did  think  was  Death, 

She  cut  his  wings,  and  caused  him  to  stay ; 
Making  a  vow,  he  should  not  thence  depart 
Unless  to  her,  the  wanton  boy  could  pay 
The  truest,  kindest,  and  most  loving  heart. 
His  feathers  still  She  used  for  a  fan  ; 
Till,  by  exchange,  my  heart  his  feathers  wan, 


L  I  C  I  A. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 
«593 


SONNET    XV. 

stood  amazed,  and  saw  my  Licia  shine 
Fairer  than  PHCEBUS  in  his  brightest  pride; 

forth  in  colours  by  a  hand  divine, 
Where  naught  was  wanting  but  a  soul  to  guiae. 
It  was  a  picture  that  I  could  descry, 
Yet  made  with  art  so  as  it  seemed  to  live; 
Surpassing  fair,  and  yet  it  had  no  eye : 
Whereof  my  senses  could  no  reason  give. 

With  that  the  Painter  bid  me  not  to  muse, 
a  Her  eyes  are  shut ;  but  I  deserve  no  blame : 
For  if  she  saw,  in  faith,  it  could  not  choose 
But  that  the  work  had  wholly  been  aflame." 

Then  burn  me,  Sweet,  with  brightness  of  your  eyes; 
That,  rhcenix-like.  from  thence  I  may  arise. 


SONNET    XVI. 

RANT,  fairest  kind,  a  kiss  unto  thy  friend !" 
A  blush  replied;  and  yet  a  kiss  I  had. 
It  is  not  heaven  that  can  such  nectar  send  ; 
Whereat  my  senses,  all  amazed,  were  glad. 
This  done,  She  fled  as  one  that  was  afraid  ; 
And  I  desired  to  kiss,  by  kissing  more. 
My  Love,  she  frowned  ;  and  I  my  kissing  stayed  : 
Yet  wished  to  kiss  her  as  I  did  before. 

Then  as  the  vine,  the  propping  elm  doth  clasp, 
Loth  to  depart,  till  both  together  die ; 
So  fold  me,  Sweet ;  until  my  latest  gasp  ! 
That  in  thy  arms,  to  death  I  kissed,  may  lie. 
Thus  whilst  I  live,  for  kisses  I  must  call  : 
Still  kiss  me,  Sweet,  or  kiss  me  not  at  all ! 


G.Fletcher,  LL.D.- 
1593- - 


L  I  C  I  A. 


43 


SONNET     XVII. 

S  are  the  sands,  fair  LlCIA,  on  the  shore  ; 
Or  coloured  flowers,  garlands  of  the  Spring ; 
Or  as  the  frosts  not  seen  nor  felt  before  ; 
Or  as  the  fruits  that  Autumn  forth  doth  bring ; 
As  twinkling  stars,  the  tinsel  of  the  night ; 
Or  as  the  fish  that  gallop  in  the  seas ; 
As  airs,  each  part  that  still  escapes  our  sight : 
So  are  my  Sighs,  controllers  of  my  ease. 

Yet  these  are  such  as  needs  must  have  an  end, 
For  things  finite,  none  else  hath  Nature  done : 
Only  the  sighs  which  from  my  heart  I  send 
Will  never  cease,  but  where  they  first  began. 
Accept  them,  Sweet,  as  incense  due  to  thee ! 
For  you  immortal  made  them  so  to  be. 


SONNET     XVIII. 

SWEAR,  fair  LlCIA,  still  for  to  be  thine ; 
By  heart,  by  eyes,  by  what  I  hold  most  dear ! 
Thou   checkedst   mine   oath,  and   said,  "  These 
were  not  mine ; 
And  that  I  had  no  right  by  them  to  swear." 

Then  by  my  sighs,  my  passions,  and  my  tears, 
My  vows,  my  prayers,  my  sorrow,  and  my  love, 
My  grief,  my  joy,  my  hope,  and  hopeless  fears  ' 
My  heart  is  thine,  and  never  shall  remove ! 

These  are  not  thine,  though  sent  unto  thy  view  ; 
All  else  I  grant,  by  right  they  are  thine  own. 
Let  these  suffice,  that  what  I  swear  is  true  ; 
And  more  than  this,  if  that  it  could  be  known. 
So  shall  all  these,  though  troubles,  ease  my  grief, 
If  that  they  serve  to  work  in  thee  belief. 


44  LlClA.  [G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 

SONNET    XIX. 

I  Tat  time,  fair  LlClA,  when  I  stole  a  kiss 
Prom  oil"  those  lips  where  CUPID  lovely  laid, 
I  quaked  for  cold  :  and  found  the  cause  was  this  : 
My  Life  which  loved,  for  love  behind  me  stayed. 
1  sent  my  Heart,  my  Life  for  to  recall , 
But  that  was  held,  not  able  to  return  : 
And  both  detained,  as  captives  were  in  thrall, 
And  judged  by  her,  that  both  by  sighs  should  burn. 
Fair,  burn  them  both  !  for  that  they  were  so  bold  ; 
But  let  the  altar  be  within  thy  heart ! 
And  I  shall  live,  because  my  life  you  hold ; 
You  that  give  life  to  every  living  part. 
A  flame  I  took  when  as  I  stole  the  kiss : 
Take  you  my  life !  yet  can  I  live  with  this. 


SONNET    XX. 

'IRST  did  I  fear,  when  first  my  love  began ; 
Possessed  in  fits  by  watchful  jealousy, 
I  sought  to  keep  what  I  by  favour  wan, 
And  brooked  no  partner  in  my  love  to  be. 
But  tyrant  Sickness  fed  upon  my  Love, 
And  spread  his  ensigns  dyed  with  colour  white ; 
Then  was  Suspicion  glad  for  to  remove  ; 
And  loving  much  did  fear  to  lose  her  quite. 

Erect,  fair  Sweet,  the  colours  thou  didst  wear ! 
Dislodge  thy  griefs,  the  short'ners  of  content ! 
For  now  of  life,  not  love,  is  all  my  fear : 
Lest  life  and  love  be  both  together  spent 
Live  but,  fair  Love,  and  banish  thy  disease ! 
And  love,  kind  Heart,  both  when,  and  whom,  thou  please  ! 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D."I  r     _  _    -     . 

1593J  L.  i  c  1  A.  45 

SONNET     XXI. 

[I CIA,  my  Love,  was  sitting  in  a  grove  ; 
Tuning  her  smiles  unto  the  chirping  songs  : 
But  straight  she  spied  where  two  together  strove, 
Each  one  complaining  of  the  other's  wrongs. 
Cupid  did  cry,  lamenting  of  the  harm, 
"Jove's  Messenger,  thou  wrong'st  me  too  too  far! 
Use  thou  thy  rod  !  rely  upon  thy  charm  ! 
Think  not  by  speech,  my  force  thou  can'st  debar  ! " 

"  A  rod,  sir  boy,  were  fitter  for  a  child  ! 
My  weapons  oft,  and  tongue,  and  mind  you  took : 
And  in  my  wrong,  at  my  distress  thou  smiled ; 
And  scorn  to  grace  me  with  a  loving  look." 

Speak  you,  Sweet  Love,  for  you  did  all  the  wrong ! 
That  broke  his  arrows,  and  did  bind  his  tongue. 


SONNET     XXII. 

MIGHT  have  died  before  my  life  began  ; 
When  as  my  father,  for  his  country's  good, 
The  Persians'  favour  and  the  Sophy  wan  : 
But  yet  with  danger  of  his  dearest  blood." 
Thy  father,  Sweet,  whom  danger  did  beset, 
Escaped  all :  and  for  no  other  end 
But  only  this,  that  you  he  might  beget : 
Whom  heavens  decreed  into  the  world  to  send. 
Then,  father,  thank  thy  daughter  for  thy  life ! 
And  Neptune  praise,  that  yielded  so  to  thee, 
To  calm  the  tempest,  when  the  storms  were  rife ; 
And  that  thy  daughter  should  a  VENUS  be. 
I  call  thee  VENUS,  Sweet !  but  be  not  wroth  ; 
Thou  art  more  chaste,  yet  seas  did  favour  both. 


46  LlC  I  A  [G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 

SONNET     XXIII. 

jV  Love  was  masked,  and  armed  with  a  fan  ; 
To  see  the  sun  so  careless  of  his  light : 
Which  stood  and  gazed  ;  and  gazing,  waxed  wan 
To  see  a  star,  himself  that  was  more  bright. 
Some  did  surmise  She  hid  her  from  the  sun  ; 
(  M  whom,  in  pride,  She  scorned  for  to  be  kissed  : 
And  feared  the  harm  by  him  to  others  done. 
But  these  the  reason  of  this  wonder  missed  ; 

Nor  durst  the  sun,  if  that  her  face  were  bare, 
In  greatest  pride  presume  to  take  a  kiss : 
But  she,  more  kind,  did  show  she  had  more  care 
Than  with  her  eyes  eclipse  him  of  his  bliss. 

Unmask  you,  Sweet,  and  spare  not !  dim  the  sun  ! 
Your  light's  enough,  although  that  his  were  done. 


SONNET     XXIV. 

[Hen  as  my  Love  lay  sickly  in  her  bed, 
Pale  Death  did  post,  in  hope  to  have  a  prey ; 
But  she  so  spotless  made  him,  that  he  fled  : 
"  Unmeet  to  die,"  he  cried  ;  and  could  not  stay. 
Back  he  retired,  and  thus  the  heavens  he  told  : 
"  All  things  that  are,  are  subject  unto  me  ; 
Both  towns,  and  men,  and  what  the  world  doth  hold : 
But  let  fair  LiciA  still  immortal  be ! " 

The  heavens  did  grant.     A  goddess  she  was  made, 
Immortal,  fair,  unfit  to  suffer  change. 
So  now  she  lives,  and  never  more  shall  fade. 
In  earth,  a  goddess.     What  can  be  more  strange? 
Then  will  I  hope  !     A  goddess,  and  so  near  ; 
She  cannot  choose,  my  sighs  and  prayers  but  hear. 


Fletcher,  LL.D.- 
IS93-. 


L  1  C  I  A. 


47 


SONNET    XXV. 

Even  are  the  Lights  that  wander  in  the  skies : 
And  at  these  seven,  I  wonder  in  my  Love. 
To  see  the  Moon  how  pale  she  doth  arise ; 
Standing  amazed,  as  though  she  durst  not  move 
So  is  my  Sweet,  much  paler  than  the  snow  ; 
Constant  her  looks,  those  looks  that  cannot  change. 
MERCURY  the  next,  a  god  sweet-tongued  we  know ; 
But  her  sweet  voice  doth  wonders  speak  more  strange. 

The  rising  Sun  doth  boast  him  of  his  pride ; 
And  yet  my  Love  is  far  more  fair  than  he. 
The  warlike  Mars  can  wieldless  weapons  guide ; 
But  yet  that  god  is  far  more  weak  than  She. 

The  lovely  Venus  seemeth  to  be  fair ; 
But  at  her  best,  my  Love  is  far  more  bright. 
Saturn,  for  age,  with  groans  doth  dim  the  air ; 
Whereas  my  Love,  with  smiles  doth  give  it  light. 
Gaze  at  her  brows,  where  heaven  engrafted  is  ; 
Then  sigh,  and  swear,  There  is  no  heaven  but  this. 


SONNET    XXVI. 

LIVE,  sweet  Love,  where  as  the  gentle  wind 
Murmurs  with  sport,  in  midst  of  thickest  boughs  ; 
Where  loving  woodbine  doth  the  harbour  bind, 
And  chirping  birds  do  echo  forth  my  vows ; 
Where  strongest  elm  can  scarce  support  the 
vine, 

And  sweetest  flowers  enamelled  have  the  ground  ; 
Where  Muses  dwell :  and  yet  hereat  repine 
That  on  the  earth  so  rare  a  place  was  found. 

But  winds  delight :  I  wish  to  be  content. 
I  praise  the  woodbine  :  but  I  take  no  joy. 
I  moan  the  birds  that  music  thus  have  spent. 
As  for  the  rest,  they  breed  but  mine  annoy. 
Live  thou,  fair  LiciA,  in  this  place  alone  : 
Then  shall  I  joy,  though  all  of  these  were  gone. 


$ 


L  1  C  I  A. 


'G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 
»593- 


SONNET     XXVII. 


He  crystal  streams,  wherein  my  Love  did  swim, 
Melted  in  tears,  as  partners  of  my  woe  ; 
1  [er  shine  was  such  as  did  the  fountain  dim, 
The  pearl-like  fountain,  whiter  than  the  snow. 
Then,  like  perfume  resolved  with  a  heat, 
The  fountain  smoked,  as  if  it  thought  to  burn. 
A  wonder  strange  to  see  the  cold  so  great, 
And  yet  the  fountain  into  smoke  to  turn. 

I  searched  the  cause,  and  found  it  to  be  this : 
She  touched  the  water,  and  it  burnt  with  love. 
Now,  by  her  means,  it  purchased  hath  that  bliss 
Which  all  diseases  quickly  can  remove. 

Then  if,  by  you,  these  streams  thus  blessed  be : 
Sweet,  grant  me  love ;  and  be  not  worse  to  me ! 


SONNET    XXVIII. 


N  time  the  strong  and  stately  turrets  fall. 
In  time  the  rose,  and  silver  lilies  die. 
In  time  the  monarchs  captive  are  and  thrall. 
In  time  the  sea  and  rivers  are  made  dry. 
The  hardest  flint  in  time  doth  melt  asunder. 
Still  living  fame,  in  time  doth  fade  away. 
The  mountains  proud,  we  see  in  time  come  under : 
And  earth,  for  aye,  we  see  in  time  decay. 

The  sun  in  time  forgets  for  to  retire 
From  out  the  East,  where  he  was  wont  to  rise. 
The  basest  thoughts,  we  see  in  time  aspire. 
And  greedy  minds,  in  time  do  wealth  despise. 
Thus  all,  sweet  Fair,  in  time  must  have  an  end : 
Except  thy  beauty,  virtues,  and  thy  friend. 


Fletcher,  LL.D. 
»593- 


L  /CIA. 


49 


SONNET   XXIX. 

Hen  as  my  Licia  sailed  in  the  seas, 
Viewingwith  pride,god  Neptune's  stately  crown, 
A  calm  she  made,  and  brought  the  merchant  ease ; 
The  storm  she  stayed,  and  checked  him  with  a 
frown. 
Love  at  the  stern  sat  smiling,  and  did  sing 
To  see  how  seas  had  learned  for  to  obey ; 
And  balls  of  fire  into  the  waves  did  fling. 
And  still  the  boy,  full  wanton,  thus  did  say : 

"  Both  poles  we  burnt,  whereon  the  world  doth  turn ; 
The  round  of  heaven  from  earth  unto  the  skies : 
And  now  the  seas,  we  both  intend  to  burn  ; 
I  with  my  bow,  and  LlCIA  with  her  eyes." 

Then  since  thy  force,  heavens,  earth,  nor  seas  can  move ; 
I  conquered,  yield :  and  do  confess  I  love. 


SONNET    XXX. 


Hen  as  her  lute  is  tuned  to  her  voice, 
The  air  grows  proud  for  honour  of  that  sound  ; 
And  rocks  do  leap,  to  shew  how  they  rejoice 
That  in  the  earth  such  music  should  be  found. 
When  as  her  hair  (more  worth,  more  pale,  than  gold) 
Like  silver  thread  lies  wafting  in  the  air ; 
DlANA-like  she  looks,  but  yet  more  bold  : 
Cruel  in  chase,  more  chaste,  and  yet  more  fair. 

When  as  she  smiles,  the  cloud  for  envy  breaks ; 
She  Jove  in  pride  encounters  with  a  check  : 
The  sun  doth  shine  for  joy  when  as  she  speaks, 
Thus  heaven  and  earth  do  homage  at  her  beck. 
Yet  all  these  graces,  blots  ;  not  graces,  are : 
If  you,  my  Love,  of  love  do  take  no  care. 
II.  d  9 


5 


L  I  C  I  A. 


tG 


Fletcher,  LL.D 

1593' 


SONNET    XXXI. 

EARS,  months,  days,  hours,  in  sighs  I  sadly  spend. 
I  black  the  night,  wherein  I  sleepless  toss. 
I  love  my  griefs,  yet  wish  them  at  an  end. 
Thus  time's  expense  increaseth  but  my  loss. 
I  musing  stand,  and  wonder  at  my  Love ; 
That  in  so  fair,  should  be  a  heart  of  steel. 
And  then  I  think,  my  fancy  to  remove : 
But  then  more  painful  I  my  passions  feel. 

Thus  must  I  love,  sweet  Fair,  until  I  die ; 
And  your  unkindness  doth  my  love  increase : 
I  conquered  am,  I  cannot  it  deny. 
My  life  must  end  ;  yet  shall  my  love  not  cease. 
Then  heavens,  make  LlClA  fair  most  kind  to  me ; 
Or  with  my  life,  my  love  may  finished  be ! 


SONNET    XXXII. 

WROTE  my  sighs,  and  sent  them  to  my  Love. 
I  praised  that  Fair,  that  none  enough  could  praise: 
But  plaints,  nor  praises,  could  fair  LlCIA  move. 
Above  my  reach,  she  did  her  virtues  raise. 
And  thus  replied,  "  False  scrawl,  untrue  thou  art ! 
To  feign  those  sighs  that  nowhere  can  be  found. 
For  half  those  praises  came  not  from  his  heart ; 
Whose  faith  and  love,  as  yet,  was  never  found. 

"  Thy  master's  life,  false  scrawl,  shall  be  thy  doom  ! 

Because  he  burns,  I  judge  thee  to  the  flame ! 

Both  your  attempts  deserve  no  better  room." 

Thus,  at  her  word,  we  ashes  both  became. 

Believe  me,  Fair,  and  let  my  paper  live  1 

Or  be  not  fair,  and  so  me  freedom  give. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D 


L.D.T 
IS93-J 


L  I  C  I  A. 


51 


SONNET    XXXIII. 


ALE  are  my  looks,  forsaken  of  my  life : 
Cinders,  my  bones  ;  consumed  with  thy  flame. 
Floods  are  my  tears,  to  end  this  burning  strife ; 
And  yet  I  sigh,  for  to  increase  the  same. 
I  mourn  alone,  because  alone  I  burn  : 
Who  doubts  of  this,  then  let  him  learn  to  love ! 
Her  looks,  cold  ice  into  a  flame  can  turn ; 
As  I  distressed  in  myself  do  prove. 

Respect,  fair  LlCIA,  what  my  torments  are ! 
Count  but  the  tithe  both  of  my  sighs  and  tears  1 
See  how  my  love  doth  still  increase  my  care ! 
And  care's  increase,  my  life  to  nothing  wears. 
Send  but  a  sigh,  my  flame  for  to  increase : 
Or  lend  a  tear,  and  cause  it  so  to  cease. 


SONNET     XXXIV. 


HEN  as  I  wish,  fair  LlCIA,  for  a  kiss 
From  those  sweet  lips,  where  rose  and  lilies  strive ; 
Straight  do  mine  Eyes  repine  at  such  a  bliss, 
And  seek  my  Lips  thereof  for  to  deprive. 
When  as  I  seek  to  glut  mine  Eyes  by  sight ; 
My  Lips  repine,  and  call  mine  Eyes  away. 
Thus  both  contend  to  have  each  other's  right ; 
And  both  conspire  to  work  my  full  decay. 

O  force  admired,  of  Beauty  in  her  pride  ; 
In  whose  each  part  such  strange  effects  there  be, 
That  all  my  forces  in  themselves  divide, 
And  make  my  senses  plainly  disagree. 

If  all  were  mine,  this  envy  would  be  gone  : 

Then  grant  me  all,  fair  Sweet ;  or  grant  me  none  I 


5- 


L  I  C  I  A. 


[G. 


Fletcher,  LL.D. 
»593- 


SONNET     XXXV. 

E  \R  how  my  Sighs  are  echoed  by  the  wind  ! 
See  how  my  Tears  are  pitied  by  the  rain ! 
Feel  what  a  Flame  possessed  hath  my  mind ! 
Taste  but  the  Grief  which  I  possess  in  vain  ! 
Then  if  my  Sighs,  the  blustering  wind  surpass; 
And  wat'ry  Tears,  the  drops  of  rain  exceed  ; 
And  if  no  Flame  like  mine  nor  is,  nor  was  ; 
Nor  Grief  like  that  whereon  my  soul  doth  feed  : 
Relent,  fair  LlCIA  !  when  my  Sighs  do  blow  : 
Yield  at  my  Tears  !  that  flintlike  drops  consume  : 
Accept  the  Flame !  that  doth  my  incense  show  : 
Allow  the  Grief!  that  is  my  heart's  perfume  : 

Thus  Sighs,  and  Tears,  Flame,  Grief,  shall  plead  for  me ; 
So  shall  I  pray,  and  you  a  goddess  be. 


SONNET     XXXVI. 

SPEAK,  fair  LlCIA,  what  my  torments  be ; 
But  then  my  speech  too  partial  do  I  find  : 
For  hardly  words  can  with  those  thoughts  agree: 
Those  thoughts  that  swarm  in  such  a  troubled 
mind. 
Then  do  I  vow  my  tongue  shall  never  speak, 
Nor  tell  my  grief  that  in  my  heart  doth  lie : 
But,  cannon-like,  I,  then  surcharged,  do  break. 
And  so  my  silence  worse  than  speech  I  try. 

Thus  speech,  or  none,  they  both  do  breed  my  care : 
I  live  dismayed  and  kill  my  heart  with  grief. 
In  all  respects  my  case  alike  doth  fare. 
To  him  that  wants  ;  and  dares  not  ask  relief. 
Then  you,  fair  LlCIA,  Sovereign  of  my  heart, 
Read  to  yourself  my  anguish  and  my  smart ! 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D 

'593' 


:] 


I  C  I  A. 


53 


SONNET     XXXVII. 

Weet,  I  protest,  and  seal  it  with  an  oath, 
I  never  saw  that  so  my  thoughts  did  please : 
And  yet  content,  displeased  I  see  them  wroth 
To  love  so  much,  and  cannot  have  their  ease. 
I  told  my  thoughts,  "  My  Sovereign  made  a  pause : 
Disposed  to  grant,  but  willing  to  delay." 
They  then  repined,  for  that  they  knew  no  cause ; 
And  swore  they  wished  She  flatly  would  say  "  Nay." 

Thus  hath  my  love,  my  thoughts  with  treason  filled ; 
And  'gainst  my  Sovereign  taught  them  to  repine  : 
So  thus  my  treason,  all  my  thoughts  hath  killed  ; 
And  made  fair  LlClA  say,  She  is  not  mine. 

But  thoughts  too  rash,  my  heart  doth  now  repent : 
And,  as  you  please,  they  swear  they  are  content. 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

Air  matchless  Nymph,  respect  but  what  I  crave ! 
My  thoughts  are  true,  and  honour  is  my  love. 
I  fainting  die,  whom  yet  a  smile  might  save. 
You  gave  the  wound,  and  can  the  hurt  remove. 
Those  eyes,  like  stars  that  twinkle  in  the  night ; 
And  cheeks,  like  rubies  pale  in  lilies  dyed  ; 
Those  ebon  [ivory]  hands  that  darting  have  such  might : 
That  in  my  soul,  my  love  and  life  divide. 
Accept  the  Passions  of  a  man  possesst ! 
Let  love  be  loved,  and  grant  me  leave  to  live ! 
Disperse  those  clouds  that  darkened  have  my  rest ; 
And  let  your  heaven,  a  sunlike  smile  but  give ! 
Then  shall  I  praise  that  heaven  for  such  a  sun  ; 
That  saved  my  life,  when  as  my  grief  begun. 


54  LlC  I  A.  [G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 

SONNET     XXXIX. 

|Y  grief  began,  fair  Saint,  when  first  I  saw 
Love,  in  those  eyes,  sit  ruling  with  disdain  ; 
Whose  sweet  commands  did  keep  a  world  in  awe: 
And  caused  them  serve,  your  favour  to  obtain. 
I  stood  as  one  enchanted  with  a  frown  ; 
Yet  smiled  to  see  all  creatures  serve  those  eyes  : 
Where  each  with  sighs  paid  tribute  to  that  crown  ; 
And  thought  them  graced  by  your  dumb  replies. 

But  I,  ambitious,  could  not  be  content 
Till  that  my  service,  more  than  sighs  made  known  ; 
And  for  that  end,  my  heart  to  you  I  sent, 
To  say  and  swear  that,  Fair !  it  is  your  own. 
Then  greater  graces,  Licia,  do  impart ! 
Not  dumb  replies,  unto  a  speaking  heart. 

SONNET     XL. 

A  Sonnet  made  upon  the  Two  Twins,  daughters  of  the 
Lady  Mollinevx  ;  both  passing  like,  and  exceeding\ly\  fair. 

]Oets  did  feign  that  heavens  a  VENUS  had  ; 
Matchless  herself,  and  CUPID  was  her  son. 
Men  sued  to  these,  and  of  their  smiles  were  glad  ; 
By  whom  so  many  famous  were  undone. 
Now  Cupid  mourns  that  he  hath  lost  his  might, 
And  that  these  Two  so  comely  are  to  see ; 
And  VENUS  frowns,  because  they  have  her  right : 
Yet  both  so  like  that  both  shall  blameless  be. 

With  heaven's  Two  Twins  for  godhead  these  may  strive  ; 
And  rule  a  World  with  least  part  of  a  frown  : 
Fairer  than  these  Two  Twins  are  not  alive ; 
Both  conquering  Queens,  and  both  deserve  a  Crown. 
My  thoughts  presage,  which  time  to  come  shall  try, 
That  thousands  conquered,  for  their  love  shall  die. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D.T  T     t  r>    t    a  ?  r 

1593J  L.  i  c  i  a.  55 


SONNET    XL  I. 

(F,  aged  CiIARON,  when  my  life  shall  end, 
I  pass  thy  ferry  and  my  waftage  pay, 
Thy  oars  shall  fail  thy  boat,  and  mast  shall  rend ; 
And  through  the  deep  shall  be  a  dry  footway. 
For  why  ?     My  heart  with  sighs  doth,  breathe  such  flame 
That  air  and  water  both  incensed  be : 
The  boundless  ocean  from  whose  mouth  they  came 
(For  from  my  heat  not  heaven  itself  is  free !). 
Then  since  to  me  my  loss  can  be  no  gain  ; 
Avoid  thy  harm,  and  fly  what  I  foretell ! 
Make  thou  my  Love  with  me  for  to  be  slain  ; 
That  I  with  her,  and  both  with  thee,  may  dwell. 
Thy  fact  thus,  Charon,  both  of  us  shall  bless : 
Thou  save  thy  boat,  and  I  my  Love  possess. 


SONNET    XLII. 

Or  if  alone  thou  think  to  waft  my  Love, 
Her  cold  is  such  as  can  the  sea  command  ; 
And  frozen  ice  shall  let  [kinder]  thy  boat  to  move. 
Nor  can  thy  forces  row  it  from  the  land. 
But  if  thou,  friendly,  both  at  once  shall  take ; 
Thyself  mayest  rest !     For  why  ?     My  sighs  will  blow. 
Our  cold  and  heat  so  sweet  a  thaw  shall  make 
As  that  thy  boat,  without  thy  help,  shall  row. 

Then  will  I  sit  and  glut  me  on  those  eyes 

Wherewith  my  life,  my  eyes  could  never  fill. 

Thus  from  thy  boat  that  comfort  shall  arise, 

The  want  whereof  my  life  and  hope  did  kill. 

Together  placed,  so  thou  her  scorn  shalt  cross : 

Where  if  we  part,  thy  boat  must  suffer  loss. 


_/-  T      .    _    .     .  rG.  Fletcher,  LL. P. 

56  L,  I  C  I  A.  |_  IS93. 

SONNET    X  L  1 1 1. 

Re  those  two  stars,  her  eyes,  my  life's  light,  gone  ? 
By  which  my  soul  was  freeed  from  all  dark  : 
And  am  I  left  distressed  to  live  alone, 
Where  none  my  tears  and  mournful  tale  shall 
mark  ? 
Ah,  Sun  !  why  shine  thy  looks,  thy  looks  like  gold  ; 
When,  horseman  brave,  thou  risest  in  the  East  ? 
Ah,  CYNTHIA  pale,  to  whom  my  griefs  I  told ! 
Why  do  you  both  rejoice  both  man  and  beast  ? 

And  I  alone,  alone  that  dark  possess 
By  LlCIA's  absence,  brighter  than  the  Sun  : 
Whose  smiling  light  did  ease  my  sad  distress, 
And  broke  the  clouds  when  tears  like  rain  begun. 
Heavens  grant  that  light,  and  so  me  waking  keep : 
Or  shut  my  eyes,  and  rock  me  fast  asleep  ! 


SONNET    XLIV. 

|RUEL  fair  Love  !  I  justly  do  complain 
Of  too  much  rigour,  and  thy  heart  unkind  ; 
That,  for  mine  eyes,  thou  hast  my  body  slain : 
And  would  not  grant  that  I  should  favour  fina. 
I  looked,  fair  Love !  and  you  my  Love  looked  fair. 
I  sighed  for  love,  and  you  for  sport  did  smile. 
Your  smiles  were  such  as  did  perfume  the  air ; 
And  this  perfumed,  did  my  heart  beguile. 

Thus  I  confess  the  fault  was  in  mine  eyes, 
Begun  with  sighs,  and  ended  with  a  flame. 
I,  for  your  love,  did  all  the  world  despise; 
And  in  these  Poems  honoured  have  your  name. 
Then  let  your  love  so  with  my  fault  dispense, 
That  all  my  parts  feel  not  mine  eyes'  offence. 


iS93> 


:] 


L  I  C  1  A. 


57 


SONNET    XLV. 

1 1  ERE  shone  a  Comet,  and  it  was  full  West. 
My  thought  presaged  what  it  did  portend  : 
I  found  it  threatened,  to  my  heart  unrest ; 
And  might,  in  time,  my  joys  and  comfort  end. 
I  further  sought,  and  found  it  was  a  Sun ; 
Which  day,  nor  night,  did  never  use  to  set. 
It  constant  stood,  when  heavens  did  restless  run  ; 
And  did  their  virtues  and  their  forces  let. 

The  World  did  muse,  and  wonder  what  it  meant 
A  Sun  to  shine,  and  in  the  West  to  rise. 
To  search  the  truth,  I  strength  and  spirits  spent. 
At  length  I  found  it  was  my  LlClA's  eyes. 
Now,  never  after,  soul  shall  live  in  dark, 
That  hath  the  hap,  this  western  Sun  to  mark. 


SONNET    XLVI. 

F  he  be  dead  in  whom  no  heart  remains, 
Or  lifeless  be  in  whom  no  life  is  found ; 
If  he  do  pine,  that  never  comfort  gains  ; 
And  be  distressed  that  hath  his  deadly  wound  : 
Then  must  I  die,  whose  heart  elsewhere  is  clad ; 
And  lifeless  pass  the  greedy  worms  to  feed : 
Then  must  I  pine,  that  never  comfort  had  ; 
And  be  distressed,  whose  wound  with  tears  doth  bleed 

Which  if  I  do,  why  do  I  not  wax  cold  ? 
Why  rest  I  not  like  one  that  wants  a  heart  ? 
Why  move  I  still  like  him  that  life  doth  hold ; 
And  sense  enjoy  both  of  my  joy  and  smart? 

Like  NlOBE  Queen,  which,  made  a  stone,  did  weep  s 
LlClA  my  heart,  dead  and  alive,  doth  keep. 


53 


L  I  C  I  A. 


ra 


Fletcher,  LL.D. 
1593- 


SONNET    XLVII. 

Ike  Memnon's  rock,  touched  with  the  rising  sun, 
Which  yields  a  sound,  and  echoes  forth  a  voice  : 
But  when  it 's  drowned  in  western  seas  is  dumb  ; 
And  drowsy-like,  leaves  off  to  make  a  noise. 
So  I,  my  Love,  enlightened  with  your  shine, 
A  Poet's  skill  within  my  soul  I  shroud ; 
Not  rude,  like  that  which  finer  wits  decline ; 
But  such  as  Muses,  to  the  best  allowed. 

But  when  your  figure  and  your  shape  is  gone ; 
I  speechless  am,  like  as  I  was  before : 
Or  if  I  write,  my  verse  is  filled  with  moan  ; 
And  blurred  with  tears,  by  falling  in  such  store. 
Then  muse  not,  LlCIA,  if  my  Muse  be  slack: 
For  when  I  wrote,  I  did  thy  beauty  lack. 


SONNET    XLVIII. 

Saw,  sweet  LlCIA,  when  the  Spider  ran 
Within  your  house,  to  weave  a  worthless  web  ; 
You  present  were,  and  feared  her  with  your  fan 
So  that,  amazed,  speedily  she  fled. 
She,  in  your  house,  such  sweet  perfumes  did  smell ; 
And  heard  the  Muses  with  their  notes  refined : 
Thus,  filled  with  envy,  could  no  longer  dwell ; 
But  straight  returned,  and  at  your  house  repined. 

"  Then  tell  me,  Spider,  why  of  late  I  saw 
Thee  lose  thy  poison,  and  thy  bowels  gone  ? 
Did  these  enchant  and  keep  thy  limbs  in  awe, 
And  made  thy  forces  to  be  small  or  none  ? 

No,  no !     Thou  didst,  by  chance,  my  LlCIA  see ; 
Who,  for  her  look,  MINERVA  seemed  to  be." 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D."] 
I593-J 


L  I  0  I  A. 


59 


SONNET   XLIX. 

F  that  I  die,  fair  Licia,  with  disdain  ; 
Or  heartless  live,  surprised  with  thy  wrong : 
The  heavens  and  earth  shall  accent  both  my  pain, 
And  curse  the  time  so  cruel  and  so  long. 
If  you  be  kind,  my  Queen,  as  you  are  fair; 
And  aid  my  thoughts  that  still  for  conquest  strive : 
Then  will  I  sing,  and  never  more  despair, 
And  praise  your  kindness  whilst  I  am  alive. 

Till  then  I  pay  the  tribute  of  my  tears, 
To  move  thy  mercy  and  thy  constant  truth. 
Respect,  fair  Love,  how  these  with  sorrow  wear 
The  truest  heart ;  unless  it  find  some  ruth. 

Then  grace  me,  Sweet,  and  with  thy  favour  raise,  me; 
So  shall  I  live,  and  all  the  World  shall  praise  thee. 


SONNET    L. 

LlCIA  sigh  !  and  say,  Thou  art  my  own. 
Nay,  Be  my  own !  as  you  full  oft  have  said. 
So  shall  your  truth  unto  the  World  be  known 
And  I,  resolved ;  where  now  I  am  afraid. 
And  if  my  tongue  eternize  can  your  praise, 
Or  silly  speech  increase  your  worthy  fame  ; 
If  aught  I  can,  to  heaven  your  worth  can  raise, 
The  Age  to  come  shall  wonder  at  the  same. 

In  this  respect,  your  love,  sweet  Love,  I  told  ; 
My  faith  and  truth  I  vowed  should  be  for  ever. 
You  were  the  cause,  if  that  I  were  too  bold  ; 
Then  pardon  this  my  fault,  or  love  me  never 
But  if  you  frown,  I  wish  that  none  believe  me : 
For,  slain  with  sighs,  I'll  die  before  I'll  grieve  thee 


6o 


L  i  c  1  a. 


r 


Fletcher,  LL.D. 
1593- 


SONNET    LI. 

Hen  first  the  Sun,  whom  all  my  senses  serve, 
Began  to  shine  upon  this  earthly  round  ; 
The  heavens  for  her,  all  graces  did  reserve  ; 
That,  PANDOR'-like,  with  all  she  might  abound. 
APOLLO  placed  his  brightness  in  her  eyes, 
His  skill  presaging,  and  his  music  sweet. 
MARS  gave  his  force.     All  force  she  now  defies. 
Venus,  her  smiles ;  wherewith  she  Mars  did  meet. 

Python,  a  voice.     Diana  made  her  chaste. 
Ceres  gave  plenty.     Cupid  lent  his  bow ; 
Thetis,  her  feet.    There  Pallas  wisdom  placed. 
With  these,  she,  Queen-like,  kept  a  World  in  awe. 
Yet  all  these  honours  deemed  are  but  pelf: 
For  she  is  much  more  worthy,  of  herself. 


SONNET    LI  I. 

SUGARED  talk  !  wherewith  my  thoughts  do  live. 
O  brows  !  Love's  trophy,  and  my  senses'  shrine 
O  charming  smiles !  that  death  or  life  can  give. 
O  heavenly  kisses  !  from  a  mouth  divine. 
O  wreaths!  too  strong,  and  trammels  made  of  hair! 
O  pearls !  enclosed  in  an  ebon  \ivory\  pale. 
O  rose  and  lilies !  in  a  field  most  fair, 
Where  modest  white  doth  make  the  red  seem  pale. 

O  voice !  whose  accents  live  within  my  heart. 
O  heavenly  hand !  that  more  than  Atlas  holds. 
O  sighs  perfumed  !  that  can  release  my  smart. 
O  happy  they !  whom  in  her  arms  she  folds. 
Now  if  you  ask,  Where  dwelleth  all  this  bliss  ? 
Seek  out  my  Love  !  and  she  will  tell  you  this. 


6i 


An  Ode. 


OVE,  I  repent  me  that  I  thought 

My  sighs  and  languish  dearly  bought : 
For  sighs  and  languish  both  did  prove 
That  he  that  languished  sighed  for  lov< 
Cruel  rigour,  foe  to  State, 
Looks  disdainful,  fraught  with  hate, 
I  did  blame  :  but  had  no  cause 
(Love  hath  eyes,  but  hath  no  laws). 

She  was  sad,  and  could  not  choose 
To  see  me  sigh,  and  sit  and  muse. 
We  both  did  love,  and  both  did  doubt  [fear] 
Lest  any  should  our  love  find  out. 
Our  hearts  did  speak  by  sighs  most  hidden  ; 
This  means  was  left :  all  else  forbidden, 

I  did  frown,  her  love  to  try 
She  did  sigh,  and  straight  did  cry. 
Both  of  us  did  signs  believe 
Yet  either  grieved  friend  to  grieve. 
I  did  look,  and  then  did  smile : 
She  left  sighing  all  that  while. 
Both  were  glad  to  see  that  change ; 
Things  in  love  that  are  not  strange. 

Suspicion,  foolish  foe  to  Reason, 
Caused  me  seek  to  find  some  treason 
I  did  court  another  Dame. 
(False  in  love,  it  is  a  shame !) 


62  An  Ode.  [ 

She  was  sorry  this  to  view, 
Thinking  faith  was  proved  untrue. 

Then  she  swore,  She  would  not  love 
One,  whom  false  She  once  did  prove. 

1  did  vow  I  never  meant 
From  promise  made,  for  to  relent. 

The  more  I  said,  the  worse  she  thought : 
My  oaths  and  vows  were  deemed  as  nought. 
"  False ! "  She  said,  "  how  can  it  be, 
To  court  another  ;  yet  love  me  ? 
Crowns  and  Love  no  partners  brook  : 
If  she  be  liked,  I  am  forsook ! 
Farewell,  False !  and  love  her  still ! 
Your  chance  was  good,  but  mine  was  ill. 
No  harm  to  you  :  but  this  I  crave, 
That  your  new  Love  may  you  deceive  ! 
And  jest  with  you,  as  you  have  done  : 
For  light 's  the  love  that 's  quickly  won." 

"  Kind  and  fair  Sweet,  once  believe  me ! 
Jest  I  did  ;  but  not  to  grieve  thee. 
Court  I  did,  but  did  not  love. 
Words,  and  sighs,  and  what  I  spent 
In  show  to  her ;  to  you  were  meant. 
Fond  \joolisK\  I  was,  your  love  to  cross 
(Jesting  love  oft  brings  this  loss). 
Forget  this  fault !  and  love  your  friend, 
Which  vows  his  truth  unto  the  end  ! " 

"  Content,"  She  said,  "  if  this  you  keep.'; 

Thus  both  did  kiss,  and  both  did  weep. 
For  women  long  they  cannot  chide : 
As  I,  by  proof,  in  this  have  tried. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D. 


IS93- 


63 


A  Dialogue  bztwixt  two   Sea  Nymphs, 

Doris  and  Galatea,  concerniiig 

Pol  yphemvs. 

Briefly  translated  out  of  Lucian. 


He  Sea  Nymphs  late  did  play  them  on  the 
shore, 
And  smiled  to  see  such   sport  was   new 

begun : 
A  strife  in  love,  the  like  not  heard  before ; 
Two    Nymphs   contend,   Which   had  the 
conquest  won  ? 
DORIS  the  fair,  with  Galate  did  chide. 
She  liked  her  choice,  and  to  her  taunts  replied. 

Doris. 

Thy  Love,  fair  Nymph !  that  courts  thee  on  this  plain, 
As  shepherds  say,  and  all  the  World  can  tell, 
Is  that  foul  rude  Sicilian  CYCLOP-swain. 
A  shame,  sweet  Nymph,  that  he  with  thee  should  mell  \tnix\ ! 

Galatea. 

Smile  not,  fair  DORIS !  though  he  foul  do  seem. 
Let  pass  thy  words  that  savour  of  disgrace ! 
He's  worth  my  love,  and  so  I  him  esteem. 
Renowned  by  birth,  and  comes  of  Neptune's  race. 

Neptune,  that  doth  the  glassy  ocean  tame ; 

NEPTUNE,  by  birth  from  mighty  JOVE  which  came. 


64       A  Dialogue  between  Doris  and  |g. Fletcher, ll.d. 

U  1593. 

Doris. 

I  grant  an  honour  to  be  Neptune's  child  ; 

A  grace  to  be  so  near  with  Jove  allied  : 

But  yet,  sweet  Nymph !  with  this  be  not  beguiled ; 

Where  Nature's  graces  are  by  looks  descried. 

So  foul,  so  rough,  so  ugly-like  a  Clown  ; 

And  worse  than  this,  a  Monster  with  one  eye. 

Foul  is  not  graced,  though  it  wear  a  Crown  l 

But  fair  is  Beauty.     None  can  that  deny. 


Galatea. 

Nor  is  he  foul,  or  shapeless,  as  you  say 
Or  worse :  for  that  he  clownish  seems  to  be. 
Rough,  Saytr-like,  the  better  he  will  play : 
And  manly  looks  the  fitter  are  for  me. 
His  frowning  smiles  are  graced  by  his  beard  : 
His  eye-light,  sun-like,  shrouded  is  in  one. 

This  me  contents  ;  and  others  makes  afeard. 

He  sees  enough,  and  therefore  wanteth  none,    with  or,e  eye. 


Doris. 

Nay,  then  I  see,  sweet  Nymph :  thou  art  in  love ; 
And  loving,  doat'st ;  and  doating,  dost  commend 
Foul  to  be  Fair.     This  oft  do  Lovers  prove. 
I  wish  him  fairer,  or  thy  love  an  end ! 


Galatea. 

DORIS,  I  love  not :  yet  I  hardly  bear 
Disgraceful  terms,  which  you  have  spoke  in  scorn. 
You  are  not  loved  :  and  that  's  the  cause  I  fear. 
For  why,  my  Love  of  Jove  himself  was  born. 


Lucian 


Lucian.  -i      _ 

G.  Flecher,  LL.D.       GALATEA  CONCERNING  POLYPHEMUS.       6q 

IS93-  J  ° 

Feeding  his  sheep  of  late,  amidst  this  plain. 
When  as  we  Nymphs  did  sport  us  on  the  shore : 
He  scorned  you  all,  my  love  for  to  obtain. 
That  grieved  your  hearts.     I  knew  as  much  before. 

Nay,  smile  not  Nymphs !     The  truth  I  only  tell. 

For  few  can  brook  that  others  should  excel. 


Doris. 

Should  I  envy  that  Blind  did  you  that  spite ; 

Or  that  your  shape  doth  please  so  foul  a  Groom  ? 

The  Shepherd  thought  of  milk.     You  looked  so  white. 

The  Clown  did  err,  and  foolish  was  his  doom. 
Your  look  was  pale,  and  so  his  stomach  fed  : 
But  far  from  fair,  where  white  doth  want  his  red. 


Galatea. 

Though  pale  my  look  ;  yet  he  my  love  did  crave ; 

And  lovely  You,  unliked,  unloved,  I  view. 

It  's  better  far,  one  base,  than  none,  to  have. 

Your  fair  is  foul,  to  whom  there's  none  will  sue. 
My  Love  doth  tune  his  love  unto  his  harp : 
His  shape  is  rude ;  but  yet  his  wit  is  sharp. 

Doris. 

Leave  off,  sweet  Nymph  !  to  grace  a  worthless  Clown 
He  itched  with  love ;  and  then  did  sing,  or  say. 
The  noise  was  such  as  all  the  Nymphs  did  frown, 
And  well  suspected  that  some  ass  did  bray. 
The  woods  did  chide,  to  hear  this  ugly  sound : 
The  prating  ECHO  scorned  for  to  repeat. 
This  grisly  voice  did  fear  the  hollow  ground, 
Whilst  Art-less  fingers  did  his  harp-strings  beat. 

n  e  9 


66  Doris  and  Galatea.         Tg. 


Lucia  n. 

Fletcher,  LL.D. 

1593- 


Two  bear  whelps  in  his  arms  this  Monster  bore : 

With  these  new  puppies  did  this  Wanton  play ! 

Their  skins  were  rough  ;  but  yet  your  loves  were  more. 

He  fouler  was  and  far  more  fierce  than  they. 

I  cannot  choose,  sweet  Nymph !  to  think,  but  smile, 
That  some  of  us  thou  fearest,  will  thee  beguile. 

Galatea. 

Scorn  not  my  Love !  until  it  can  be  known 
That  you  have  one  that  's  better,  of  your  own. 

Doris. 

I  have  no  Love :  nor,  if  I  had,  would  boast : 
Yet  wooed  have  been  by  such  as  well  might  speed. 
But  him  to  love,  the  Shame  of  all  the  coast ! 
So  ugly  foul,  as  yet,  I  have  no  need. 

Now  thus  we  learn  what  foolish  love  can  do  ? 

To  think  him  fair,  that  's  foul  and  ugly  too. 

To  hear  this  talk  I  sat  behind  an  oak  ; 
And  marked  their  words  and  penned  them  as  they  spoke 


J3d  Lector 'em ,  distichon 
cujusdam  de  Autore. 


Lascivi  quceres  fuerit  cur  carrninis  Alitor 
Carmine  /asdvus,  mente  pudicus  erat. 


67 


A  Lover  s  Maze. 


[It  will  be  seen  that  Three  of  these  Stanzas  go  together,  rhyming  in 
their  first  words  :  True,  True,  New. — Sweet,  Sweety  Meet,  &c] 

TRUE  are  my  thoughts :     my  thoughts  that  are  untrue. 
Blind  are  my  eyes :  my  eyes  that  are  not  blind. 

New  is  my  love :  my  love  that  is  not  new. 

Kind  is  that  Fair :  that  Fair  that  is  not  kind. 

Thus  eyes  and  thoughts,  that  fairest  Fair,  my  love ; 

Blind  and  untrue,  unkind,  unconstant  prove. 

True  are  my  thoughts :  because  they  never  flit. 

Untrue  my  thoughts :  because  they  me  betrayed. 

Blind  are  my  eyes :  because  in  clouds  I  sit. 

Not  blind  my  eyes  :  because  I  looks  obeyed. 

Thus  eyes  and  thoughts,  my  dearest  Fair,  may  view 

In  sight,  in  love,  nor  blind,  nor  yet  untrue. 

New  is  my  love :  because  it  never  dies. 

Old  is  my  love  :  because  it  ever  lives. 

Kind  is  that  Fair :  because  it  hate  denies. 

Unkind  that  Fair :  because  no  hope  it  gives. 

Thus  new  my  love,  and  still  that  Fair  unkind, 

Renews  my  love  ;  and  I  no  favour  find. 

Sweet  are  my  dreams :  my  dreams  that  are  not  sweet 

Long  are  the  nights :  the  nights  that  are  not  long. 

Meet  are  the  pangs :  these  pangs  that  are  unmeet. 

Wronged  is  my  heart :  my  heart  that  hath  no  wrong. 

Thus  dreams  and  night,  my  heart,  my  pangs,  and  all, 
In  taste,  in  length,  conspire  to  work  my  fall. 


68  A    Lover's   Maze.  [g  Fletcher'  J£ 

Sweet  are  my  dreams :  because  my  Love  they  show. 

Unsweet  my  dreams  :  because  but  dreams  they  are. 

Long  are  the  nights :  because  no  help  I  know. 

Meet  are  the  nights :  because  they  end  my  care. 

Thus  dreams  and  nights,  wherein  my  Love  takes  sport, 
Are  sweet,  unsweet ;  are  long,  and  yet  too  short. 

Meet  are  my  pangs :  because  I  was  too  bold. 

Unmeet  my  pangs :  because  I  loved  so  well. 

Wronged  was  my  heart :       because  my  grief  it  told. 
Not  wronged.     For  why  ?     My  grief  it  could  not  tell. 

Thus  you,  my  Love,  unkindly  cause  this  smart ; 

That  will  not  love  to  ease  my  pangs  and  heart. 

Proud  is  her  look :  her  look  that  is  not  proud. 

Done  all  my  days :  my  days  that  are  not  done. 

Loud  are  my  sighs :  my  sighs  that  are  not  loud. 

Begun  my  death  :  my  death  not  yet  begun. 

Thus  looks  and  days,  and  sighs  and  death,  might  move 

So  kind,  so  fair,  to  give  consent  to  love. 


Proud  is  her  look :  because  she  scorns  to  see. 

Not  proud  her  look :  for  none  dare  say  so  much. 

Done  are  my  days :  because  they  hapless  be. 

Not  done  my  days :  because  I  wish  them  such. 

Thus  looks  and  days  increase  this  loving  strife ; 

Not  proud,  not  done,  nor  dead,  nor  giving  life. 

Loud  are  my  sighs :  because  they  pierce  the  sky. 

Not  loud  my  sighs :  because  they  are  not  heard. 

My  death  begun :  because  I  heartless  cry. 

But  not  begun :  because  I  am  debarred. 

Thus  sighs  and  death  my  heart  no  comfort  give: 
Both  life  deny,  and  both  do  make  me  live. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.DJ  ALoVER'sMAZE.  69 

Bold  are  her  smiles :  her  smiles  that  are  not  bold. 

Wise  are  her  words ;  those  words  that  are  not  wise. 

Cold  are  her  lips :  those  lips  that  are  not  cold. 

Ice  are  those  hands :  those  hands  that  are  not  ice. 

Thus  smiles  and  words,  her  lips,  her  hands,  and  She 
Bold,  wise,  cold,  ice,  love's  cruel  torments,  be. 

Bold  are  her  smiles :  because  they  anger  slay. 

Not  bold  her  smiles  :  because  they  blush  so  oft. 

Wise  are  her  words :  because  they  wonders  say. 

Not  wise  her  words  :  because  they  are  not  soft. 

Thus  smiles  and  words,  so  cruel  and  so  bold, 
So  blushing  wise,  my  thoughts  in  prison  hold. 

Cold  are  her  lips :  because  they  breathe  no  heat. 

Not  cold  her  lips :  because  my  heart  they  burn. 

Ice  are  her  hands :  because  the  snow  's  so  great. 

Not  ice  her  hands  :  that  all  to  ashes  turn. 

Thus  lips  and  hands,  cold  ice,  my  sorrow  bred  ; 

Hands,  warm  white  snow;  and  lips,  cold  cherry  red. 

Small  was  her  waist:  the  waist  that  was  not  small. 

Gold  was  her  hair :  the  hair  that  was  not  gold. 

Tall  was  her  shape :  the  shape  that  was  not  tall. 

Folding  the  arms :  the  arms  that  did  not  fold. 

Thus  hair  and  shape,  those  folding  arms  and  waist, 
Did  make  me  love ;  and  loving  made  me  waste. 

Small  was  her  *  waist:  because  I  could  it  span. 

Not  small  her  waste :  because  she  wasted  all. 

Gold  was  her  hair :  because  a  crown  it  wan. 

Not  gold  her  hair :  because  it  was  more  pale. 

Thus  smallest  *waist,  the  greatest  waste  doth  [•st*tt*m** 

,  in  the  trig  ii'al 

make ;  cdition.\ 

And  finest  hair,  most  fast  a  lover  take. 


7o  A    Lover's   Maze.        pin** mux 

Tall  was  her  shape :  because  she  touched  the  sky. 

Not  tall  her  shape :  because  she  comely  was. 

Folding  her  arms :  because  she  hearts  could  tie, 

Not  folded  arms  :  because  all  bands  they  pass. 

Thus  shape,  and  arms,  with  love  my  heart  did  fly ; 

That  hers  I  am,  and  must  be  till  I  die. 

Sad  was  her  joy:  her  joy  that  was  not  sad. 

Short  was  her  stay :  her  stay  that  was  not  short. 

Glad  was  her  speech :  her  speech  that  was  not  glad. 

Sporting  those  toys :  those  toys  that  were  not  sport. 

Thus  was  my  heart,  with  joy,  speech,  toys,  and  stay, 
Possessed  with  love ;  and  so  stolen  quite  away. 

Sad  was  her  joy :  because  she  did  suspect. 

Not  sad  her  joy:  because  her  joy  she  had. 

Short  was  her  stay :  because  to  small  effect. 

Long  was  her  stay :  because  I  was  so  sad. 

Thus  joy  and  stay  both  crossed  a  lover's  sport ; 

The  one  was  sad,  the  other  too  too  short. 

Glad  was  her  speech :  because  she  spake  her  mind. 

Not  glad  her  speech :  because  afraid  to  speak. 

Sporting  her  toys  :  because  my  love  was  kind. 

Not  toys  in  sport :  because  my  heart  they  break. 

Thus  speech  and  toys  my  love  began  in  jest : 
Sweet,  yield  to  love !  and  make  thy  servant  blest ! 

Tread  you  the  Maze,  sweet  Love,  that  I  have  run : 

Mark  but  the  steps,  which  I  imprinted  have. 

End  but  your  love,  whereas  my  thoughts  begun : 

So  shall  I  joy,  and  you  a  Servant  have. 

If  not,  sweet  Love,  then  this  my  suit  deny : 
So  shall  you  live,  and  so  your  Servant  die. 


7i 


An  Elegy* 


Own  in  a  bed,  and  on  a  bed  of  down  ; 
LOVE,  She,  and  I  to  sleep  together  lay. 
She,  like  a  wanton,  kissed  me  with  a  frown, 
"  Sleep,  sleep !"  she  said ;  but  meant  to  steal  away 
I  could  not  choose  but  kiss,  but  wake,  but  smile, 
To  see  how  She  thought  us  two  to  beguile. 

She  feigned  a  sleep.     I  waked  her  with  a  kiss. 
A  kiss  to  me  she  gave,  to  make  me  sleep. 
"  If  I  did  wrong,  sweet  Love,  my  fault  was  this  ; 
In  that  I  did  not  you  thus  waking  keep. 

Then  kiss  me,  Sweet !  that  so  I  sleep  may  take ; 

Or  let  me  kiss,  to  keep  you  still  awake ! " 

The  night  drew  on,  and  needs  she  must  be  gone. 

She  waked  LOVE,  and  bid  him  learn  to  wait. 

She  sighed,  She  said,  to  leave  me  there  alone  : 

And  bid  LOVE  stay  ;  but  practise  no  deceit. 

Love  wept  for  grief,  and  sighing  made  great  moan : 
And  could  not  sleep,  nor  stay,  if  she  were  gone. 

"  Then  stay,  sweet  Love  !"  A  kiss  with  that  I  gave. 

She  could  not  stay ;  but  gave  my  kiss  again. 

A  kiss  was  all  that  I  could  get  or  crave : 

And,  with  a  kiss,  She  bound  me  to  remain. 
"  A'  LlCIA ! "  still  I  in  my  dreams  did  cry, 
"  Come,  LlCIA,  come !  or  else  my  heart  will  die." 


72 


Elegies.  [g.  Fie***.  h.d 

ELEGY    II. 

I  STANCE  of  place,  my  Love  and  me  did  part ; 
Yet  both  did  swear,  We  never  would  remove! 
In  sign  thereof,  I  bade  her  take  my  heart ; 
Which  did,  and  doth,  and  cannot  choose  but, 
love. 
Thus  did  we  part,  in  hope  to  meet  again  ; 
Where  both  did  vow  most  constant  to  remain. 

2.  A  she  there  was  that  passed  betwixt  us  both  ; 
By  whom  each  knew  how  other's  cause  did  fare : 
For  men  to  trust  men  in  their  love  are  loath. 
Thus  had  we  both  of  love  a  Lover's  care. 

Haply  he  seeks  his  sorrows  to  renew, 
That  for  his  love,  doth  make  another  sue. 

3.  By  her  a  kiss,  a  kiss  to  me  She  sent ; 

A  kiss  for  price  more  worth  than  purest  gold. 
She  gave  it  her.  To  me  the  kiss  was  meant. 
A  she  to  kiss  :  what  harm  if  she  were  bold  ? 

Happy  those  lips,  that  had  so  sweet  a  kiss ! 

For  heaven  itself  scarce  yields  so  sweet  a  bliss. 

4.  This  modest  she,  blushing  for  shame  of  this, 
Or  loath  to  part  from  that  she  liked  so  well, 
Did  play  false  play ;  and  gave  me  not  the  kiss  : 
Yet  my  Love's  kindness  could  not  choose  but  tell. 

Then  blame  me  not,  that  kissing,  sighed  and  swore, 
"  I  kissed  but  her,  whom  you  had  kissed  before!" 

5.  "  Sweet,  love  me  more !  and  blame  me  not,  sweet  Love ! 
I  kissed  those  lips  :  yet,  harmless,  I  do  vow  : 

Scarce  would  my  lips  from  off  those  lips  remove; 
For  still,  methought,  sweet  Fair,  I  kissed  you. 

And  thus  kind  love,  the  sun  of  all  my  bliss, 

Was  both  begun,  and  ended,  in  a  kiss. 


G.  Fletcher,  LL.D.]  E  L  E  G  I  E  S.  73 

6.      "Then  send  me  more;  but  send  them  by  your  friend  ! 
Kiss  none  but  her !  nor  her,  nor  none  at  all. 
Beware  by  whom  such  treasures  you  do  send  ! 
I  must  them  lose,  except  I  for  them  call. 

And  love  me,  Dear  !  and  still  still  kissing  be  ! 

Both  like  and  love  but  none,  sweet  Love !  but  me ! 


ELEGY    III. 

F  sad  Complaint  would  shew  a  Lover's  pain ; 
Or  Tears  express  the  torments  of  my  heart : 
If  melting  Sighs  would  ruth  and  pity  gain  ; 
II     Or  true  Laments  but  ease  a  Lover's  smart : 

2.  Then  should  my  Plaints  the  thunder's  noise  surmount ; 
And  Tears,  like  seas,  should  flow  from  out  my  eyes. 
Then  Sighs,  like  air,  should  far  exceed  all  count ; 

And  true  Laments  with  sorrow  dim  the  skies. 

3.  But  Plaints  and  Tears,  Laments  and  Sighs  I  spend  : 
Yet  greater  torments  do  my  heart  destroy. 

I  could  all  these  from  out  my  heart  still  send  ; 
If,  after  these,  I  might  my  Love  enjoy. 

4.  But  heavens  conspire;  and  heavens  I  must  obey  : 
That  seeking  love,  I  still  must  want  my  ease. 

For  greatest  joys  are  tempered  with  delay: 
Things  soon  obtained  do  least  of  all  us  please. 

5.  My  thoughts  repine,  and  think  the  time  too  long. 
My  love  impatient  wisheth  to  obtain. 

I  blame  the  heavens,  that  do  me  all  this  wrong : 
To  make  me  loved  ;  and  will  not  ease  my  pain. 


r4  Elegies.  [g-  Fletchcr- ^ 

6.  No  pain  like  this,  to  love  and  not  enjoy. 
No  grief  like  this,  to  mourn  and  not  be  heard. 
No  time  so  long  as  that  which  breeds  annoy. 
No  hell  like  this,  to  love  and  be  deferred. 

7.  But  heaven  shall  stand,  and  earth  inconstant  fly ; 
The  sun  shall  freeze,  and  ice  inconstant  burn  ; 
The  mountains  flow,  and  all  the  earth  be  dry  : 
Ere  time  shall  force  my  loving  thoughts  to  turn. 

8.  "  Do  you  resolve,  sweet  Love  !  to  do  the  same : 
Say  that  you  do,  and  seal  it  with  a  kiss ! 

Then  shall  our  truths  [troths]  the  heavens'  unkindness 

blame ; 
That  cannot  hurt,  yet  shew  their  spite  in  this. 

9.  "  The  silly  Prentice,  bound  for  many  years, 
Doth  hope  that  time  his  service  will  release  ; 
The  town  besieged,  that  lives  in  midst  of  fears, 
Doth  hope  in  time  the  cruel  wars  will  cease ; 

10.  "  The  toiling  Ploughman  sings  in  hope  to  reap ; 
The  tossed  bark  expecteth  for  a  shore ; 

The  boy  at  school  to  be  at  play  doth  leap, 
And  straight  forgets  the  fear  he  had  before : 

11.  "  If  those,  by  hope,  do  joy  in  their  distress  ; 
And  constant  are,  in  hope  to  conquer  time  : 
Then  let  not  hope  in  us,  sweet  Friend  !  be  less ; 
And  cause  our  love  to  wither  in  the  prime. 

"  Let  us  conspire,  and  time  will  have  an  end ; 
So  both  of  us  in  time  shall  have  a  friend." 

FINIS. 


DIANA, 

OR, 

The   excellent   conceitful    Sonnets 

of  H.  C.  Augmented  with  divers 

Quatorzains  of  honourable 

and  learned  personages. 

Divided    into    viii.    Decades, 

Vincitur  a  facibus,  qui  jacet  ipse  faces. 


AT  LONDON, 

Printed  by  lames  Roberts  for 

Richard  Smith. 

1584. 


77 


uypy   ikju  i*jvj  ^jfy  *2]y  i*iv'  "Vv"1  "y'f  ^jS?  ^r  **i w^  v?vJ  i*i\J  **?^ 


THE    PRINTER 

[*'.<?.   James   Roberts] 

to  the  Reader. 


Bscured  wonders,  Gentlemen !  visited  me  in 

Turnus's    armour ;    and     I,    in    regard    of 

^Eneas's  honour,  have  unclouded  them  unto 

the  world.      You  are  that  universe !     You, 

that   vEneas  !     If  you    find    Pallas's  girdle,   murder 

them  !  if  not,   environed   with  barbarism,   save  them ' 

and  eternity  will  praise  you. 

Vale, 


gfendfeaffegfe^^ 


XT) 


78 


Unto  Her  Majesty's  sacred 
honourable  Maids. 


Ternal  Twins  !  that  conquer  Death  and  Time, 
Perpetual  advocates  in  heaven  and  earth  ! 
Fair,  chaste,  immaculate,  and  all  divine ; 
Glorious  alone,  before  the  first  man's  birth  : 

Your  twofold  Charites  I  celestial  lights  ! 
Bow  your  sun-rising  eyes,  planets  of  joy, 
Upon  these  Orphan  Poems  !  in  whose  rights 
Conceit  first  claimed  his  birthright  to  enjoy. 

If  pitiful,  you  shun  the  Song  of  Death  ; 
Or  fear  the  stain  of  love's  life-dropping  blood  ; 
0  know  then,  you  are  pure  ;  and  purer  faith 
Shall  still  keep  white  the  flower,  the  fruit,  and  bud. 
Love  moveth  all  things.    You  that  love,  shall  move 
A 11  things  in  him,  and  he  in  you  shall  love. 

Richard  Smith. 


H.  Constable  and  others." 
?,  but  before  1594.. 


Diana  . 


79 


THE     FIRST     DECADE. 

SONNET   I. 

Esolved  to  love,  unworthy  to  obtain, 
I  do  no  favour  crave;  but,  humble  wise, 
To  thee  my  sighs  in  verse  I  sacrifice, 
Only  some  pity,  and  no  help  to  gain. 
Hear  then  !  and  as  my  heart  shall  aye 
remain  [eyes ; 

A    patient    object    to   thy   lightning 
A  patient  ear  bring  thou  to  thund'ring  cries  ! 
Fear  not  the  crack  !  when  I  the  blow  sustain. 
So  as  thine  eye  bred  mine  ambitious  thought ; 
So  shall  thine  ear  make  proud  my  voice  for  joy. 
Lo,  Dear !  what  wonders  great  by  thee  are  wrought, 
When  I  but  little  favours  do  enjoy. 
The  voice  is  made  the  ear  for  to  rejoice  : 
And  your  ear  giveth  pleasure  to  my  voice. 


SONNET    II. 

Lame  not  my  heart  for  flying  up  too  high ! 
Sith  thou  art  cause  that  it  this  flight  begun  : 
For  earthly  vapours  drawn  up  by  the  sun, 
Comets  begin,  and  night  suns  in  the  sky. 
Mine  humble  heart,  so  with  thy  heavenly  Eye 
Drawn  up  aloft,  all  low  desires  doth  shun : 
Raise  then  me  up  !  as  thou  my  heart  hast  done, 
So  during  night,  in  heaven  remain  may  I. 
I  say  again,  Blame  not  my  high  desire  ! 
Sith  of  us  both  the  cause  thereof  depends : 
In  thee  doth  shine,  in  me  doth  burn  a  fire ; 
Fire  draws  up  other,  and  itself  ascends. 
Thine  eye  a  fire,  and  so  draws  up  my  love ; 
My  love  a  fire,  and  so  ascends  above. 


Q_  Ti    t    a    »r    a  rH.  Constable  and  others. 

OO  UIANA.  L  ?,  but  before  i  S9+. 

SONNET   III. 

|Ly  low,  dear  love!  thy  sun  dost  thou  not  see? 
Take  heed  !  do  not  so  near  his  rays  aspire  ! 
Lest  (for  thy  pride,  inflamed  with  wreakful  ire) 
It  burn  thy  wings,  as  it  hath  burned  me. 
Thou,  haply,  sayst,  "  Thy  wings  immortal  be, 
And  so  cannot  consumed  be  with  fire: 
The  one  is  Hope,  the  other  is  Desire  ; 
And  that  the  heavens  bestowed  them  both  on  thee." 
A  Muse's  words  made  thee  with  Hope  to  fly; 
An  Angel's  face  Desire  hath  begot ; 
Thyself  engendered  by  a  goddess'  eye  : 
Yet  for  all  this,  immortal  thou  art  not ! 
Of  heavenly  eye  though  thou  begotten  art : 
Yet  art  thou  born  but  of  a  mortal  heart  I 


SONNET   IV. 

Friend  of  mine,  pitying  my  hopeless  love, 
Hoping,  by  killing  hope,  my  love  to  stay : 
"Let  not,"  quoth  he,  "thy  hope,  thy  heart  betray  ! 
Impossible  it  is  her  heart  to  move." 
But  sith  resolved  love  cannot  remove, 
As  long  as  thy  divine  perfections  stay : 
Thy  godhead  then,  he  sought  to  take  away. 
Dear  !  seek  revenge,  and  him  a  liar  prove  ! 
Gods  only  do  impossibilities. 

"  Impossible,"  saith  he,  "  thy  grace  to  gain." 
Show  then  the  power  of  thy  divinities 
By  granting  me  thy  favour  to  obtain  ! 
So  shall  thy  foe  give  to  himself  the  lie ; 
A  goddess  thou  shalt  prove ;  and  happy  I ! 


H.  Constable  and  others.-] 
f,  but  before  1594.  J 


Diana. 


riw_y&H 


SONNET   V. 

Hine  eye,  the  glass  where  I  behold  my  heart. 
Mine  eye,  the  window  through  the  which  thine  eye 
May  see  my  heart ;  and  there  thyself  espy 
In  bloody  colours,  how  thou  painted  art ! 
Thine  eye,  the  pyle  is  of  a  murdering  dart : 
Mine  eye,  the  sight  thou  tak'st  thy  level  by 
To  hit  my  heart,  and  never  shoots  awry. 
Mine  eye  thus  helps  thine  eye  to  work  my  smart. 
Thine  eye,  a  fire  is  both  in  heat  and  light ; 
Mine  eye,  of  tears  a  river  doth  become. 
O  that  the  water  of  mine  eye  had  might 
To  quench  the  flames  that  from  thine  eye  doth  come  ! 
Or  that  the  fires  kindled  by  thine  eye, 
The  flowing  streams  of  mine  eyes  could  make  dry  1 


SONNET    VI. 

Ine  Eye  with  all  the  deadly  sins  is  fraught, 
i.  First  proud,  sith  it  presumed  to  look  so  high. 
A  watchman  being  made,  stood  gazing  by  ; 
2.  And  idle,  took  no  heed  till  I  was  caught. 
And  envious,  bears  envy  that  by  thought, 
Should  in  his  absence,  be  to  her  so  nigh. 
To  kill  my  heart,  mine  eye  let  in  her  eye ; 
4.  And  so  consent  gave  to  a  murder  wrought. 
And  covetous,  it  never  would  remove 

From  her  fair  hair.     Gold  so  doth  please  his  sight! 

6.  Unchaste,  a  baud  between  my  heart  and  love. 

7.  A  glutton  eye,  with  tears  drunk  every  night. 
These  sins  procured  have  a  goddess'  ire  : 
Wherefore  my  heart  is  damned  in  love's  sweet  fire. 

11.  f  9 


S2 


D  I  A  N  A  . 


"H.  Constable  and  others, 
f,  but  before  159.4. 


SONNET    VII. 

Alsely  doth  Envy  of  your  praises  blame 
My  tongue,  my  pen,  my  heart  of  flattery: 
Because  I  said,  "  There  was  no  sun  but  thee  !  " 
It  called  my  tongue  "  the  partial  trump  of  Fame." 
And  saith  my  pen  hath  flattered  thy  name, 
Because  my  pen  did  to  my  tongue  agree  ; 
And  that  my  heart  must  needs  a  flatterer  be, 
Which  taught  both  tongue  and  pen  to  say  the  same. 
No,  no,  I  flatter  not  when  thee  I  call 

The  sun,  sith  that  the  sun  was  never  such : 
But  when  the  sun,  thee  I  compared  withal ; 
Doubtless  the  sun  I  flattered  too  much. 
Witness  mine  eyes,  I  say  the  truth  in  this ! 
They  have  seen  thee,  and  know  that  so  it  is. 


SONNET     VIII. 

Uch  Sorrow  in  itself  my  love  doth  move, 
More  my  Despair  to  love  a  hopeless  bliss ; 
My  Folly  most,  to  love  whom  sure  to  miss  ; 
O  help  me,  but  this  last  grief  to  remove  ! 
All  pains,  if  you  command,  it  joy  shall  prove  ; 
And  wisdom  to  seek  joy.     Then  say  but  this, 
"  Because  my  pleasure  in  thy  torment  is  ; 
I  do  command  thee,  without  hope  to  love  I  " 
So  when  this  thought  my  sorrow  shall  augment, 
That  my  own  folly  did  procure  my  pain, 
Then  shall  I  say,  to  give  myself  content, 
"  Obedience  only  made  me  love  in  vain. 
It  was  your  will,  and  not  my  want  of  wit ; 
I  have  the  pain,  bear  you  the  blame  of  it !  " 


H.  Constable  and  others."!  7")    T    .    >r    . 

f,  but  before  1594. J  U  I A  N  A  *  g  •? 

SONNE  T    IX. 

Y  Lady's  presence  makes  the  Roses  red, 
Because  to  see  her  lips  they  blush  for  shame. 
The  Lily's  leaves,  for  envy,  pale  became ; 
And  her  white  hands  in  them  this  envy  bred. 
The  Marigold  the  leaves  abroad  doth  spread ; 
Because  the  sun's  and  her  power  is  the  same. 
The  Violet  of  purple  colour  came, 
Dyed  in  the  blood  she  made  my  heart  to  shed. 
In  brief.     All  flowers  from  her  their  virtue  take ; 

From  her  sweet  breath,  their  sweet  smells  do  proceed  ; 
The  living  heat  which  her  eyebeams  doth  make 
Warmeth  the  ground,  and  quickeneth  the  seed. 
The  rain,  wherewith  she  watereth  the  flowers, 
Falls  from  mine  eyes,  which  she  dissolves  in  showers. 


SONNET    X. 

Eralds  at  arms  do  three  perfections  quote, 
To  wit,  most  fair,  most  rich,  most  glittering ; 
So,  when  those  three  concur  within  one  thing, 
Needs  must  that  thing,  of  honour,  be  a  note. 
Lately,  I  did  behold  a  rich  fair  coat, 

Which  wished  Fortune  to  mine  eyes  did  bring. 
A  Lordly  coat,  yet  worthy  of  a  King, 
In  which  one  might  all  these  perfections  note. 
A  field  of  lilies,  roses  "  proper  "  bare; 

Two  stars  "in  chief  "  ;  the  "  crest "  was  waves  of  gold. 
How  glittering  'twas,  might  by  the  stars  appeal ; 
The  lilies  made  it  fair  for  to  behold. 
And  Rich  it  was,  as  by  the  gold  appeareth : 
But  happy  he  that  in  his  arms  it  wearelh  ! 


84 


D  I A  N  A  . 


'H.  Constable  and  others. 
?,  but  before  1594. 


THE     SECOND     DECADE. 

SONNET    I . 

F  true  love  might  true  love's  reward  obtain, 
Dumb  wonder  only  might  speak  of  my  joy  ; 
But  too  much  worth  hath  made  thee  too  much 
And  told  me,  long  ago,  I  sighed  in  vain.  [coy, 

Not  then  vain  hope  of  undeserved  gain 

Hath  made  me  paint  in  verses  mine  annoy; 
But  for  thy  pleasure,  that  thou  might'st  enjoy 
Thy  beauty's  praise,  in  glasses  of  my  pain. 
See  then,  thyself!  (though  me  thou  wilt  not  hear) 
By  looking  on  my  verse.     For  pain  in  verse, 
Love  doth  in  pain,  beauty  in  love  appear. 
So,  if  thou  wouldst  my  verses'  meaning  see, 
Expound  them  thus,  when  I  my  love  rehearse, 
"None  loves  like  he  !  "  that  is,  "None  fair  like  me!" 


H. 

SONNE  T    II. 

T  may  be,  Love  my  death  doth  not  pretend, 
Although  he  shoots  at  me  :  but  thinks  it  fit 
Thus  to  bewitch  thee  for  thy  benefit ! 
Causing  thy  will  to  my  wish  to  condescend. 
For  witches,  which  some  murder  do  intend, 
Do  make  a  picture,  and  do  shoot  at  it ; 
And  in  that  part  where  they  the  picture  hit, 
The  party's  self  doth  languish  to  his  end. 
So  Love,  too  weak  by  force  thy  heart  to  taint, 
Within  my  heart  thy  heavenly  shape  doth  paint ; 
Suffering  therein  his  arrows  to  abide, 
Only  to  th'end  he  might,  by  witches'  art, 
Within  my  heart,  pierce  through  thy  picture's  side ; 
And  through  thy  picture's  side,  might  wound  my  heart. 


H.  Constable  and  others. "1  7")    T    .    ,r    .  o 

?,  but  before  1594.  J  U  I A  N  A  .  85 


SONNET    III . 


1 

iSni 

He  Sun,  his  journey  ending  in  the  west, 
Taketh  his  lodging  up  in  Thetis'  bed  ; 
Though  from  our  eyes  his  beams  be  banished, 
Yet  with  his  light  the  Antipodes  be  blest. 

Now  when  the  sun-time  brings  my  sun  to  rest, 
(Which  me  too  oft  of  rest  hath  hindered) 
And  whiter  skin  with  white  sheet  covered, 
And  softer  cheek  doth  on  soft  pillow  rest, 

Then  I  (0  sun  of  suns  !  and  light  of  lights  !j 
Wish  me  with  those  Antipodes  to  be, 
Which  see  and  feel  thy  beams  and  heat  by  nights. 
Well,  though  the  night  both  cold  and  darksome  is, 

Yet  half  the  day's  delight  the  night  grants  me. 

I  feel  my  sun's  heat,  though  his  light  I  miss. 


SONNE  T    IV. 

Ady  !  in  beauty  and  in  favour  rare, 
Of  favour,  not  of  due,  I  favour  crave. 
Nature  to  thee  beauty  and  favour  gave  ; 
Fair  then  thou  art,  and  favour  thou  may'st  spare 

Nor  when  on  me  bestowed  your  favours  are, 
Less  favour  in  your  face  you  shall  not  have  : 
If  favour  then  a  wounded  soul  may  save  ; 
Of  murder's  guilt,  dear  Lady,  then  beware ! 

My  loss  of  life  a  million  fold  were  less, 
Than  the  least  loss  should  unto  you  befall : 
Yet  grant  this  gift !  which  gift  when  I  possess, 
Both  I  have  life,  and  you  no  loss  at  all. 

For  by  your  favour  only  I  do  live ; 

And  favour  you  may  well  both  keep  and  give. 


QA  F)    t   a    »r  a  ("H.  Constable  and  others. 

OU  ^  J  A  ™  A  •  L  *.  but  before.1594. 

SONNET    V. 

Y  Reason  absent,  did  mine  Eyes  require 
To  watch  and  ward,  and  such  foes  to  descry 
As  they  should  ne'er  my  heart  approaching  spy : 
But  traitor  Eyes,  my  heart's  death  did  conspire 
(Corrupted  with  Hope's  gifts)  ;  let  in  Desire 
To  burn  my  heart  :  and  sought  no  remedy, 
Though  store  of  water  were  in  either  Eye, 
Which  well  employed,  might  well  have  quenched  the  fire. 
Reason  returned  ;  Love  and  Fortune  made 
Judges,  to  judge  mine  Eyes  to  punishment. 
Fortune,  sith  they,  by  sight  my  heart  betrayed  ; 
From  wished  sight,  adjudged  them  banishment ! 
Love,  sith  by  fire  murdered  my  heart  was  found ; 
Adjudged  them  in  tears  for  to  be  drowned  1 


SO  N  N  E  T    77. 

JJOnder  it  is,  and  pity  is't,  that  she 
In  whom  all  beauty's  treasure  we  may  find, 
That  may  enrich  the  body  and  the  mind ; 
Towards  the  poor,  should  use  no  charity. 
My  love  has  gone  a  begging  unto  thee  ! 

And  if  that  Beauty  had  not  been  more  kind 
That  Pity,  long  ere  this,  he  had  been  pined  : 
But  Beauty  is  content  his  food  to  be. 
O  pity  have  !  when  such  poor  orphans  beg. 
Love  (naked  boy  !)  hath  nothing  on  his  back ; 
And  though  he  wanteth  neither  arm  nor  leg, 
Yet  maimed  he  is,  sith  he  his  sight  doth  lack. 
And  yet  (though  blind)  he  beauty  can  behold, 
And  yet  (though  naked)  he  feels  more  heat  than  cold. 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
?,  but  before  1594- J 


D  I A  N A  . 


*7 


SONNET    VII. 

Ity  refusing  my  poor  Love  to  feed, 
A  beggar  starved  for  want  of  help,  he  lies  ; 
And  at  your  mouth  (the  door  of  Beauty)  cries, 
That   thence   some   alms   of   sweet   grants    might 
But  as  he  waiteth  for  some  almes  deed,  [proceed  ! 

A  cherry  tree  before  the  door  he  spies. 
"  O  Dear !  "  quoth  he,  "  two  cherries  may  suffice, 
Two  only  may  save  life,  in  this  my  need  !  " 
But  beggars,  Can  they  nought  but  cherries  eat  ? 
Pardon  my  Love !  He  is  a  goddess'  son, 
And  never  feedeth  but  on  dainty  meat ; 
Else  need  he  not  to  pine,  as  he  hath  done. 
For  only  the  sweet  fruit  of  this  sweet  tree, 
Can  give  food  to  my  Love,  and  life  to  me. 


SONNET    VIII. 

He  fowler  hides,  as  closely  as  he  may, 
The  net,  where  caught  the  silly  bird  should  be  ; 
Lest  he  the  threatening  poison  should  but  see. 
And  so  for  fear  be  forced  to  fly  away. 
My  Lady  so,  the  while  she  doth  assay 
In  curled  knots  fast  to  entangle  me ; 
Put  on  her  veil,  to  th'end  I  should  not  flee 
The  golden  net,  wherein  I  am  a  prey. 
Alas,  most  Sweet !  what  need  is  of  a  net 
To  catch  a  bird,  that  is  already  ta'en  ? 
Sith  with  your  hand  alone,  you  may  it  get ; 
For  it  desires  to  fly  into  the  same. 
What  needs  such  art,  my  thoughts  then  to  entrap ; 
When,  of  themselves,  they  fly  into  your  lap  ? 


CQ  T)    t  a    \r  4  H- Constable  and  others 

°°  *J  J  A  N  A  .  L  T,  but  before  1394 


SONNET    IX. 

Weet  hand !  the  sweet  but  cruel  bow  thou  art ! 
From  whence  at  me  five  ivory  arrows  fly ; 
So  with  five  wounds  at  once  I  wounded  lie, 
Bearing  my  breast  the  print  of  every  dart. 
Saint  Francis  had  the  like ;  yet  felt  no  smart, 
Where  I  in  living  torments  never  die. 
His  wounds  were  in  his  hands  and  feet ;  where  J 
All  these  five  helpless  wounds  feel  in  my  heart. 
Now,  as  Saint  Francis,  if  a  Saint  am  I, 
The  bow  that  shot  these  shafts  a  relic  is. 
I  mean  the  hand,  which  is  the  reason  why 
So  many  for  devotion  thee  would  kiss  : 
And  some  thy  glove  kiss,  as  a  thing  divine ; 
This  arrows'  quiver,  and  this  relic's  shrine. 


SONNET    X. 

Air  Sun  !  if  you  would  have  me  praise  your  light, 
When  night  approacheth,  wherefore  do  you  fly  ? 
Time  is  so  short,  beauties  so  many  be, 
As  I  have  need  to  see  them  day  and  night ; 
That  by  continual  view,  my  verses  might 
Tell  all  the  beams  of  your  divinity  : 
Which  praise  to  you,  and  joy  should  be  to  me ; 
You  living  by  my  verse,  I  by  your  sight ! 
I  by  your  sight,  and  not  you  by  my  verse, 
Need  mortal  skill  immortal  praise  rehearse  ? 
No,  no,  though  eyes  were  blind,  and  verse  were  dumb, 
Your  beauty  should  be  seen,  and  your  fame  known. 
For  by  the  wind  which  from  my  sighs  do  come, 
Your  praises  round  about  the  world  are  blown. 


*fo 


H.  Constable  and  others.!  7")    ,-    .    .,    .  o. 

T.  but  before  1594. J  U  1  A  N  A  .  59 

THE     THIRD     DECADE. 

SONNET   I . 

Ncivil  Sickness  !  hast  thou  no  regard  ! 
But  dost  presume  my  Dearest  to  molest ! 
And  without  leave,  dar'st  enter  in  that  breast, 
1  Whereto  sweet  Love  approach  yet  never  dared  ? 
Spare  thou  her  health  !  which  my  life  hath  not  spared. 
Too  bitter  such  revenge  of  my  unrest. 
Although  with  wrongs,  my  thought  she  hath  opprest  ; 
My  wrongs  seek  not  revenge,  they  crave  reward. 
Cease  Sickness  !     Cease  in  her  then  to  remain  ! 
And  come,  and  welcome!     Harbour  thou  in  me  ! 
Whom  love  long  since  hath  taught  to  suffer  pain. 
So  she  which  hath  so  oft  my  pain  increased 
(O  God,  that  I  might  so  revenged  be), 
By  my  poor  pain,  might  have  her  pain  released. 

[The  next  Seven  Sonnets,  II.  to  VIII,  are  assigned  to  SirPHlLiP  Sidney, 
and  are  printed  with  his  collection  in  Vol.  I.  at  the  pages  indicated 
below."] 


]He  SCOURGE  of  life,  and  death's  extreme  disgrace, 

[See  Vol.  I.  p.  114.] 

Oe  !  WOE  to  me  !     On  me,  return  the  smart ! 

[See  Vol.  /.A  114.] 

jHou  PAIN  !  the  only  guest  of  loathed  CONSTRAINT, 

[See  Vol.  I.  p.  1x5.] 

Nd  HAVE  I  heard  her  say,  "  O  cruel  pain  ! " 

[See  Vol.  /./.  115.] 

INCE  shunning  pain,  I  ease  can  never  find ; 

[See  Vol.  I.  p.  109.] 

Hen  Love,  puft  up  with  rage  of  his  disdain, 

[See  Vol.  I.  p.  no.] 

|N  WONTED  walks,  since  wonted  fancies  change; 

\See  Vol.  I.  p.  120.] 


-_  Tl    t  a    nr  a  l"H.  Constable  and  others, 

SONNET  IX. 

|0e  to  mine  eyes  !  the  organs  of  mine  ill ; 
Hate  to  my  heart !  for  not  concealing  joy ; 
A  double  curse  upon  my  tongue  be  still  ! 
Whose  babbling  lost  what  else  I  might  enjoy. 
When  first  mine  eyes  did  with  thy  beauty  toy, 
They  to  my  heart  thy  wondrous  virtues  told  ; 
Who,  fearing  lest  thy  beams  should  him  destroy, 
Whate'er  he  knew,  did  to  my  tongue  unfold. 
My  tell-tale  tongue,  in  talking  over  bold, 
What  they  in  private  council  did  declare, 
To  thee !  in  plain  and  public  terms  unrolled : 
And  so  by  that,  made  thee  more  coyer  far. 
What  in  thy  praise  he  spoke,  that  didst  thou  trust  f 
And  yet  my  sorrows,  thou  dost  hold  unjust ! 


SONNET  X. 

F  an  Athenian  young  man  have  I  read, 
Who  on  blind  Fortune's  picture  doated  so; 
That  when  he  could  not  buy  it  to  his  bed, 
On  it  he  gazing,  died  for  very  woe. 
My  Fortune's  picture  art  thou,  flinty  Dame  ! 
That  settest  golden  apples  to  my  sight ; 
But  wilt,  by  no  means,  let  me  taste  the  same  ! 
To  drown  in  sight  of  land,  is  double  spite. 
Of  Fortune,  as  thou  learn'dst  to  be  unkind ; 
So  learn  to  be  unconstant  to  disdain  ! 
The  wittiest  women  are  to  sport  inclined. 
Honour  is  Pride,  and  Pride  is  nought  but  Pain. 
Let  others  boast  of  choosing  for  the  best ; 
'Tis  substances,  not  names  must  make  us  blest. 


& 


H.  Constable  and  others."!  /")»-..• 

?,  but  before  1594.  J  J-J  I  A  N  A  ,  gl 

THE    FOURTH    DECADE 

SONNET  I. 

Eeds  must  I  leave,  and  yet  needs  must  I  love  ! 
In  vain  my  wit  doth  tell  in  verse  my  woe : 
Despair  in  me,  disdain  in  thee,  doth  show 
How  by  my  wit  I  do  my  folly  prove. 
All  this  ;  my  heart  from  love  can  never  move. 
Love  is  not  in  my  heart.     No,  Lady  !     No, 
My  heart  is  love  itself.     Till  I  forego 
My  heart,  I  never  can  my  love  remove. 
How  can  I  then  leave  love  ?     I  do  intend 
Not  to  crave  grace,  but  yet  to  wish  it  still ; 
Not  to  praise  thee,  but  Beauty  to  commend : 
And  so,  by  Beauty's  praise,  praise  thee  I  will ! 
For  as  my  heart  is  Love,  love  not  in  me : 
So  Beauty  thou,  beauty  is  not  in  theel 


SONNET  II. 

Weet  Sovereign  !  since  so  many  minds  remain 
Obedient  subjects  at  thy  beauty's  call ! 
So  many  hearts  bound  in  thy  hairs  as  thrall  1 
So  many  eyes  die  with  one  look's  disdain  ! 
Go,  seek  the  honour  that  doth  thee  pertain  ! 
That  the  Fifth  Monarchy  may  thee  befall. 
Thou  hast  such  means  to  conquer  men  withal, 
As  all  the  world  must  yield,  or  else  be  slain. 
To  fight,  thou  needst  no  weapons  but  thine  eyes  ! 
Thine  hair  hath  gold  enough  to  pay  thy  men  ! 
And  for  their  food,  thy  beauty  will  suffice  ! 
For  men  and  armour,  Lady,  care  have  none ! 
For  one  will  sooner  yield  unto  thee  then 
When  he  shall  meet  thee  naked  all  alone. 


/-■o  D    T  J    MA  [~H.  Constable  and  others 

y-  j-j  i  a  j.v  *  .  ?  but  before 


SONNET   III. 

Hen  your  perfections  to  my  thoughts  appear, 
They  say  among  themselves,  "  0  happy  we, 
Which  ever  shall  so  rare  an  object  see  !" 
But  happy  heart,  if  thoughts  less  happy  were  ! 
For  their  delights  have  cost  my  heart  full  dear, 
In  whom  of  love  a  thousand  causes  be ; 
And  each  cause  breeds  a  thousand  loves  in  me  ; 
And  each  love  more  than  thousand  hearts  can  bear- 
How  can  my  heart  so  many  loves  then  hold ; 
Which  yet,  by  heaps,  increase  from  day  to  day  ? 
But  like  a  ship  that's  o'ercharged  with  gold, 
Must  either  sink,  or  hurl  the  gold  away. 
But  hurl  not  love  !     Thou  canst  not,  feeble  heart ! 
In  thine  own  blood,  thou  therefore  drowned  art! 


SONNET  IV. 

^jOols  be  they,  that  inveigh  'gainst  Mahomet; 
Who's  but  a  moral  of  love's  monarchy. 
I  By  a  dull  adamant,  as  straw  by  jet, 
He  in  an  iron  chest  was  drawn  on  high. 
In  midst  of  Mecca's  temple  roof,  some  say, 
He  now  hangs,  without  touch  or  stay  at  all. 
That  Mahomet  is  She,  to  whom  I  pray ; 
May  ne'er  man  pray  so  ineffectual ! 
Mine  eyes,  love's  strange  exhaling  adamants, 

Un'wares,  to  my  heart's  temple's  height  have  wrought 
The  iron  Idol  that  compassion  wants  ; 
Who  my  oft  tears  and  travails  sets  at  nought. 
Iron  hath  been  transformed  to  gold  by  art 
Her  face,  limbs,  flesh  and  all,  gold  ;  save  her  heart. 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
t.  but  before  1594. J 


D  I A  N  A  . 


SONNET    V. 

Eady  to  seek  out  death  in  my  disgrace, 
My  Mistress  'gan  to  smooth  her  gathered  brows ; 
Whereby  I  am  reprieved  for  a  space. 
O  Hope  and  Fear  !  who  half  your  torments  knows  ? 
It  is  some  mercy  in  a  black-mouthed  Judge 
To  haste  his  prisoner's  end,  if  he  must  die. 
Dear !  if  all  other  favour  you  shall  grudge, 
Do  speedy  execution  with  your  eye  ! 
With  one  sole  look,  you  leave  in  me  no  soul. 
Count  it  a  loss  to  lose  a  faithful  slave ! 
Would  God,  that  I  might  hear  my  last  bell  toll, 
So  in  your  bosom  I  might  dig  my  grave. 
Doubtful  delay  is  worse  than  any  fever. 
Or  help  me  soon  !   or  cast  me  off  for  ever ! 


SONNET   VI. 

Ach  day,  new  proofs  of  new  despair  I  find, 
That  is,  new  deaths.     No  marvel  then,  though  I 
Make  exile  my  last  help ;  to  th'end  mine  eye 
Should  not  behold  the  death  to  me  assigned. 
Not  that  from  death,  absence  might  save  my  mind ; 
But  that  it  might  take  death  more  patiently  : 
Like  him,  the  which  by  Judge  condemned  to  die, 
To  suffer  with  more  ease,  his  eyes  doth  blind. 
Your  lips,  in  scarlet  clad,  my  Judges  be, 
Pronouncing  sentence  of  eternal  "  No  !  " 
Despair,  the  hangman  that  tormenteth  me  : 
The  death  I  suffer  is  the  life  I  have. 
For  only  life  doth  make  me  die  in  woe, 
And  only  death  I,  for  my  pardon  crave. 


Q4  J~)  T  A   1\T  A  [  h  Coustable  and  others. 


but  before  1594- 


SONNET   VII. 

He  richest  relic  Rome  did  ever  view 
Was  Cesar's  tomb  ;  on  which,  with  cunning  hand, 
Jove's  triple  honours,  the  three  fair  Graces,  stand  ; 
Telling  his  virtues,  in  their  virtues  true. 
This  Rome  admired  :  but,  dearest  Dear !  in  you 
Dwelleth  the  wonder  of  the  happiest  land 
And  all  the  world  to  Neptune's  furthest  strand. 
For  what  Rome  shap'd  hath  living  life  in  you  ! 
Thy  naked  beauty,  bounteously  displayed, 
Enricheth  monarchies  of  hearts  with  love  ! 
Thine  eyes  to  hear  complaints  are  open  laid ! 
Thine  eyes'  kind  looks  requite  all  pains  I  prove  ! 
That  of  my  death,  I  dare  not  thee  accuse  ; 
But  pride  in  me,  that  baser  chance  refuse. 


SONNET   VIII. 

Hy  thus  unjustly,"  say,  my  cruel  fate ! 
"  Dost  thou  adjudge  my  luckless  eyes  and  heart  ; 
The  one  to  live  exiled  from  that  sweet  smart, 
Where  th'other  pines,  imprisoned  without  date  ?  " 
My  luckless  eyes  must  never  more  debate 

Of  those  bright  beams,  that  eased  my  love  apart : 
And  yet  my  heart,  bound  to  them  with  love's  dart. 
Must  there  dwell  ever,  to  bemoan  my  state. 
O  had  mine  eyes  been  suffered  there  to  rest ! 
Often  they  had  my  heart's  unquiet  eased  : 
Or  had  my  heart  with  banishment  been  blest ! 
Mine  eye  with  beauty  never  had  been  pleased. 
But  since  these  cross  effects  hath  fortune  wrought; 
Dwell,  heart,  with  her  !     Eyes,  view  her  in  my  thought ! 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
?,  but  before  1594.  J 


Diana  . 


95 


[Sonnet  IX.  is  assigned  to  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  and  is  printed  with  his 
collection  at  p.  122,  Vol.  /.] 


Ft  have  I  mused,  but  now  at  length  I  find 


1 


SONNET    X. 

Ope,  like  the  hyaena,  coming  to  be  old, 
Alters  his  shape ;  is  turned  into  Despair. 
Pity  my  hoary  hopes  !  Maid  of  Clear  Mould  ! 
Think  not  that  frowns  can  ever  make  thee  fair ! 
What  harm  is  it  to  kiss,  to  laugh,  to  play  ? 
Beauty's  no  blossom,  if  it  be  not  used. 
Sweet  dalliance  keeps  the  wrinkles  long  away  : 
Repentance  follows  them  that  have  refused. 
To  bring  you  to  the  knowledge  of  your  good 
I  seek,  I  sue.    O  try,  and  then  believe ! 
Each  image  can  be  chaste  that's  carved  of  wood. 
You  show  you  live,  when  men  you  do  relieve. 
Iron  with  wearing  shines.     Rust  wasteth  treasure. 
On  earth,  but  love  there  is  no  other  pleasure. 


96 


D  I A  N  A  . 


"H.  Constable  and  other*. 
?,  but  before  1594- 


THEFIFTH    DECADE. 

SONNET    I. 

\  me,  poor  wretch !  my  prayer  is  turned  to  sin. 
I  say,  "I  love!"    My  Mistress  says,  "'Tis  lust! 
Thus  most  we  lose,  where  most  we  seek  to  win. 
Wit  will  make  wicked  what  is  ne'er  so  just. 
And  yet  I  can  supplant  her  false  surmise. 
Lust  is  a  fire  that,  for  an  hour  or  twain, 
Giveth  a  scorching  blaze,  and  then  he  dies : 
Love,  a  continual  furnace  doth  maintain. 
A  furnace  !     Well,  this  a  furnace  may  be  called ; 
For  it  burns  inward,  yields  a  smothering  flame, 
Sighs  which,  like  boiled  lead's  smoking  vapour,  scald. 
I  sigh  apace,  at  echo  of  Sighs'  name. 
Long  have  I  served.     No  short  blaze  is  my  love. 
Hid  joys  there  are,  that  maids  scorn  till  they  prove. 


SONNE  T    II. 

Do  not  now  complain  of  my  disgrace, 
O  Cruel  Fair  One !     Fair  with  cruel  crost : 
Nor  of  the  hour,  season,  time,  nor  place  ; 
Nor  of  my  foil,  for  any  freedom  lost ; 
Nor  of  my  courage,  by  misfortune  daunted ; 
Nor  of  my  wit,  by  overweening  struck  ; 
Nor  of  my  sense,  by  any  sound  enchanted; 
Nor  of  the  force  of  fiery  pointed  hook  ; 
Nor  of  the  steel  that  sticks  within  my  wound ; 
Nor  of  my  thoughts,  by  worser  thoughts  defaced  ; 
Nor  of  the  life,  I  labour  to  confound  : 
But  I  complain,  that  being  thus  disgraced, 
Fired,  feared,  frantic,  fettered,  shot  through,  slain  ; 
My  death  is  such,  as  I  may  not  complain. 


H.  Constable  and  others.-!  7")    r    ..    •» 

?,  but  before  1594.  J  U  I A  N  A  . 


97 


SONNET    III. 

F  ever  Sorrow  spoke  from  soul  that  loves, 
As  speaks  a  spirit  in  a  man  possest ; 
In  me,  her  spirit  speaks.     My  soul  it  moves, 
Whose  sigh-swoll'n  words  breed  whirlwinds  in  my 
breast : 
Or  like  the  echo  of  a  passing  bell, 

Which  sounding  on  the  water,  seems  to  howl ; 
So  rings  my  heart  a  fearful  heavy  knell, 
And  keeps  all  night  in  consort  with  the  owl. 
My  cheeks  with  a  thin  ice  of  tears  are  clad, 

Mine  eyes  like  morning  stars  are  bleared  and  red : 
What  resteth  then,  but  I  be  raging  mad, 
To  see  that  She,  my  cares'  chief  conduit-head, 
When  all  streams  else  help  quench  my  burning  heart, 
Shuts  up  her  springs ;  and  will  no  grace  impart. 


SONNE  T    I  V. 

Ou  secret  vales  !  you  solitary  fields ! 
You  shores  forsaken  !  and  you  sounding  rocks  ! 
If  ever  groaning  heart  hath  made  you  yield, 
Or  words  half  spoke  that  sense  in  prison  locks ; 
Then,  'mongst  night  shadows,  whisper  out  my  death ! 
That  when  myself  hath  sealed  my  lips  from  speaking. 
Each  tell-tale  echo  with  a  weeping  breath, 
May  both  record  my  truth  and  true  love's  breaking. 
You  pretty  flowers  !  that  smile  for  summer's  sake, 
Pull  in  your  heads !   before  my  wat'ry  eyes 
Do  turn  the  meadows  to  a  standing  lake, 
By  whose  untimely  floods,  your  glory  dies  ! 
For  lo,  mine  heart,  resolved  to  moistening  air, 
Feedeth  mine  eyes,  which  double  tear  for  tear. 

n.  g  9 


98 


D  I A  N A. 


"H.  Constable  and  others 
?,  but  before  1594 


SONNET    V. 

Is  shadow  to  Narcissus  well  presented ; 
How  fair  he  was,  by  such  attractive  love  ! 
So  if  thou  would'st  thyself  thy  beauty  prove, 
Vulgar  breath-mirrors  might  have  well  contented, 
And  to  their  prayers  eternally  consented, 

Oaths,  vows  and  sighs,  if  they  belief  might  move : 
But  more  thou  forc'st,  making  my  pen  approve 
Thy  praise  to  all,  least  any  had  dissented. 
When  this  hath  wrought,  thou  which  before  wert  known 
But  unto  some,  of  all  art  now  required ; 
And  thine  eyes'  wonders  wronged  ;  because  not  shown 
The  world,  with  daily  orisons  desired. 
Thy  chaste  fair  gifts,  with  learning's  breath  is  blown. 
And  thus  my  pen  hath  made  thy  sweets  admired. 


SONNET     VI. 

Am  no  model  figure,  or  sign  of  Care  ; 
But  his  eternal  heart's-consuming  essence  : 
In  whom  grief's  commentaries  written  are, 
Drawing  gross  passion  into  pure  quintessence. 
Not  thine  eye's  fire  ;  but  fire  of  thine  eye's  disdain, 
Fed  by  neglect  of  my  continual  grieving, 
Attracts  the  true  life's  spirit  of  my  pain  ; 
And  gives  it  thee ;  which  gives  me  no  relieving. 
Within  thine  arms,  sad  elegies  I  sing. 

Unto  thine  eyes,  a  true  heart  love-torn  lay  i. 
Thou  smell'st  from  me,  the  savours  sorrows  bring. 
My  tears  to  taste  my  truth,  to  touch  display  I. 
Lo  thus,  each  sense,  dear  Fair  One  !  I  importune  : 
But  being  Care,  thou  flyest  me  as  III  Fortune  ! 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
?,  but  before  1594. J 


D  I A  NA. 


99 


SONNET      VII. 

Ut  being  Care,  thou  flyest  me  as  III  Fortune  ! 
Care  the  consuming  canker  of  the  mind  ! 
The  discord  that  disorders  sweet  hearts'  tune ! 
Th'abortive  bastard  of  a  coward  mind  ! 
The  lightfoot  lackey  that  runs  post  by  death, 
Bearing  the  letters  which  contain  our  end  ! 
The  busy  advocate  that  sells  his  breath, 
Denouncing  worst  to  him,  is  most  his  friend  ! 
O  Dear !  this  care  no  interest  holds  in  me  : 
But  holy  Care,  the  Guardiant  of  thy  fair, 
Thine  honour's  Champion,  and  thy  virtue's  Fee  ; 
The  zeal  which  thee  from  barbarous  times  shall  bear. 
This  Care  am  I.     This  care  my  life  hath  taken. 
Dear  to  my  soul !  then,  leave  me  not  forsaken  1 


SONNET      VIII. 

Ear  to  my  soul !  then,  leave  me  not  forsaken  f 
Fly  not  !  My  heart  within  thy  bosom  sleepeth 
Even  from  myself  and  sense  I  have  betaken 
Me  unto  thee  (for  whom  my  spirit  weepeth). 
And  on  the  shore  of  that  salt  teary  sea, 

Couched  in  a  bed  of  unseen  seeming  pleasure, 
Where,  in  imaginary  thoughts,  thy  lair  self  lay  — 
But  being  wak'd,  robbed  of  my  life's  best  treasure, 
I  call  the  heavens,  air,  earth,  and  seas  to  hear 
My  love  !  my  truth  !  and  black  disdained  estate  ! 
Beating  the  rocks  with  bellowings  of  despair  ; 
Which  still  with  plaints,  my  words  reverberate. 
Sighing,  "  Alas,  what  shall  become  of  me  ?  " 
Whilst  Echo  cries,  "  What  shall  become  of  me  ?  " 


ioo  Diana.  fH-C 


f,  but  before  1594. 


SONNET    IX. 

Hilst  Echo  cries,  "  What  shall  become  of  me  ?  " 
And  desolate,  my  desolations  pity  : 
Thou  in  thy  beauty's  carrack  sitt'st,  to  see 
My  tragic  downfall,  and  my  funeral  ditty. 
No  timbrel,  but  my  heart  thou  play'st  upon, 

Whose  strings  are  stretched  unto  the  highest  key. 
The  diapason,  love.    Love  is  the  unison  ; 
In  love,  my  life  and  labours  waste  away. 
Only  regardless,  to  the  world  thou  leav'st  me, 

Whilst  slain  Hopes,  turning  from  the  feast  of  sorrow, 
Unto  Despair,  their  King,  which  ne'er  deceives  me, 
Captives  my  heart,  (whose  black  night  hates  the  morrow) 
And  he,  in  truth  of  my  distressed  ciy, 
Plants  me  a  weeping  star  within  mine  eye. 

SONNET    X. 

^Rometheus  for  stealing  living  fire 
From  heaven's  king,  was  judged  eternal  death ; 
In  self-same  flame,  with  unrelenting  ire, 
Bound  fast  to  Caucasus'  low  foot  beneath. 
So  I,  for  stealing  living  beauty's  fire 
Into  my  verse,  that  it  may  always  live ; 
And  change  his  forms  to  shapes  of  my  desire : 
Thou  beauty's  Queen  !  self  sentence  like  dost  give  ! 
Bound  to  thy  feet,  in  chains  of  love  I  lie  ; 
For  to  thine  eyes,  I  never  dare  aspire  : 
And  in  thy  beauty's  brightness  do  I  fry, 
As  poor  Prometheus  in  the  scalding  fire. 
Which  tears  maintain,  as  oil  the  lamp  revives  ; 
Only  my  succour  in  thy  favour  lies. 


H.  Constable  ana  others."! 
f,  but  before  1594.J 


Via  n  a. 


101 


THE      SIXTH      DECADE. 

SONNET     I  . 

Ne  sun  unto  my  life's  day  gives  true  light. 
One  moon  dissolves  my  stormy  night  of  woes. 
One  star  my  fate  and  happy  fortune  shows. 
One  saint  I  serve,  one  shrine  with  vows  I  dight. 
One  sun  transfix'd,  hath  burnt  my  heart  outright. 
One  moon  opposed,  my  love  in  darkness  throws. 
One  star  hath  bid  my  thoughts  my  wrongs  disclose. 
Saints  scorn  poor  swains,  shrines  do  my  vows  no  right. 
Yet  if  my  love  be  found  a  holy  fire, 
Pure,  unstained,  without  idolatry  ; 
And  she,  nathless,  in  hate  of  my  desire, 
Lives  to  repose  her  in  my  misery. 
My  sun  !  my  moon  !  my  star !  my  saint !  my  shrine ! 
Mine  be  the  torment,  but  the  guilt  be  thine ! 


K 


SONNET     II. 

0  live  in  hell,  and  heaven  to  behold; 
To  welcome  life,  and  die  a  living  death ; 
To  sweat  with  heat,  and  yet  be  freezing  cold  ; 
To  grasp  at  stars,  and  lie  the  earth  beneath ; 
To  tread  a  maze  that  never  shall  have  end ; 
To  burn  in  sighs,  and  starve  in  daily  tears; 
To  climb  a  hill,  and  never  to  descend ; 
Giants  to  kill,  and  quake  at  childish  fears  ; 
To  pine  for  food,  and  watch  th' Hesperian  tree  : 
To  thirst  for  drink,  and  nectar  still  to  draw ; 
To  live  accurs'd,  whom  men  hold  blest  to  be ; 
And  weep  those  wrongs  which  never  creature  saw 
If  this  be  love,  if  love  in  these  be  founded, 
My  heart  is  love,  for  these  in  it  are  grounded. 


102 


D  I A  N  A. 


[H. 


Constable  and  others. 
?,  but  before  1594. 


SONNET    III . 

Carver,  having  loved  too  long  in  vain, 
Hewed  out  the  portraiture  of  Venus'  son 
In  marble  rock,  upon  the  which  did  rain 
Small  drizzling  drops,  that  from  a  fount  did  run 
Imagining  the  drops  would  either  wear 
His  fury  out,  or  quench  his  living  flame  ; 
But  when  he  saw  it  bootless  did  appear, 
He  swore  the  water  did  augment  the  same. 
So  I,  that  seek  in  verse  to  carve  thee  out, 
Hoping  thy  beauty  will  my  flame  allay, 
Viewing  my  verse  and  poems  all  throughout, 
Find  my  will  rather  to  my  love  obey. 
That,  with  the  Carver,  I  my  work  do  blame, 
Finding  it  still  th'augmenter  of  my  flame. 


SONNE T    IV . 

Stronomers  the  heavens  do  divide 
Into  eight  Houses,  where  the  god  remains ; 
All  which  in  thy  perfections  do  abide  ! 
For  in  thy  feet,  the  Queen  of  Silence  reigns  ; 
About  thy  waist,  Jove's  Messenger  doth  dwell, 
Inchanting  me,  as  I  thereat  admire ; 
And  on  thy  dugs,  the  Queen  of  Love  doth  tell, 
Her  godhead's  power  in  scrolls  of  my  desire  ; 
Thy  beauty  is  the  world's  eternal  Sun ; 

Thy  favours  force  a  coward's  heart  to  dare, 
And  in  thy  hairs,  Jove  and  his  riches  won  ; 
Thy  frowns  hold  Saturn  ;  thine  eyes  the  Fixed  Stars. 
Pardon  me  then,  Divine !  to  love  thee  well ; 
Since  thou  art  heaven  :  and  I,  in  heaven  would  dwell. 


H.  Constable  and  others.-!  /")    T    .    .. 

f,  but  before  1594.J  U  I  A  N  A  ,  IO3 


SONNET    V. 

Eary  of  love,  my  Thoughts  of  Love  complained, 
Till  Reason  told  them,  there  was  no  such  power ; 
And  bade  me  view  fair  beauty's  richest  flower, 
To  see  if  there  a  naked  boy  remained. 
Dear  !  to  thine  eyes,  eyes  that  my  soul  hath  pained, 
Thoughts  turned  them  back,  in  that  unhappy  hour, 
To  see  if  Love  kept  there  his  royal  bower : 
For  if  not  there,  then  no  place  him  contained. 
There  was  he  not,  nor  boy,  nor  golden  bow ; 
Yet  as  thou  turned  thy  chaste  fair  eye  aside, 
A  flame  of  fire  did  from  thine  eyelids  go, 
Which  burnt  my  heart,  through  my  sore  wounded  side  : 
Then  with  a  sigh,  Reason  made  Thoughts  to  cry, 
"  There  is  no  god  of  love,  save  that  thine  eye  1  " 


SONNE  T    V  I. 

Orgive  me,  Dear  !  for  thundering  on  thy  name  ; 
Sure  'tis  thyself  that  shows  my  love  distrest. 
For  fire  exhaled,  in  freezing  clouds  possest, 
Warring  for  way,  makes  all  the  heavens  exclaim. 
Thy  beauty  so,  the  brightest  living  flame, 
Wrapt  in  my  cloudy  heart,  by  winter  prest, 
Scorning  to  dwell  within  so  base  a  nest, 
Thunders  in  me  thy  everlasting  flame. 
O  that  my  heart  might  still  contain  that  fire  ! 
Or  that  the  fire  would  always  light  my  heart ! 
Then  should'st  thou  not  disdain  my  true  desire, 
Or  think  I  wronged  thee,  to  reveal  to  my  smart : 
For  as  the  fire  through  freezing  clouds  doth  break  ; 
So,  not  myself,  but  thou  in  me  would'st  speak. 


T  r>  i  7")    t    A    \t   a  l~H.  Constable  and  others. 

1  °4  U  I  A  N  A  .  |_  f,  but  before  1594. 


SONNET    VII. 

Y  Heart,  mine  Eye  accuseth  of  his  death. 
Saying,  "  His  wanton  sight  bred  his  unrest :  " 
Mine  Eye  affirms,  "  My  Heart's  unconstant  faith 
Hath  been  his  bane,  and  all  his  joys  represt." 
My  Heart  avows,  "  Mine  Eye  let  in  the  fire, 
Which  burns  him  with  an  everliving  light." 
Mine  Eye  replies,  "  My  greedy  Heart's  desire 
Let  in  those  floods,  which  drown  him  day  and  night." 
Thus  wars  my  Heart,  which  Reason  doth  maintain, 
And  calls  my  Eye  to  combat  if  he  dare. 
The  whilst,  my  Soul,  impatient  of  disdain, 
Wrings  from  his  bondage  unto  death  more  near ; 
Save  that  my  love,  still  holdeth  him  in  hand, 
"  A  kingdom  thus  divided,  cannot  stand  !  " 


SONNET    VIII. 

Nhappy  day  !  unhappy  month  and  season  ! 
When  first  proud  love,  my  joys  away  adjourning, 
Poured  into  mine  eye  (to  her  eye  turning) 
A  deadly  juice,  unto  my  green  thoughts  geason. 
Prisoner  I  am  unto  the  eye  I  gaze  on  : 
Eternally  my  love's  flame  is  in  burning  : 
A  mortal  shaft  still  wounds  me  in  my  mourning : 
Thus  prisoned,  burnt,  and  slain;  the  spirit,  soul,  and  reason; 
What  tides  me  then,  since  these  pains  which  annoy  me, 
In  my  despair,  are  evermore  increasing  ? 
The  more  I  love,  less  is  my  pain's  releasing ; 
That  cursed  be  the  fortune  which  destroys  me, 
The  hour,  the  month,  the  season,  and  the  cause ; 
When  love  first  made  me  thrall  to  lovers'  laws. 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
!,  but  before  1594.  J 


D  I A  N A  . 


!05 


SONNET    IX. 

Ove  have  I  followed  all  too  long,  nought  gaining; 
And  sighed  I  have  in  vain  to  sweet  what  smarteth, 
But  from  his  bow  a  fiery  arrow  parteth ; 
Thinking  that  I  should  him  resist,  not  plaining. 
But  cowardly  my  heart  submiss  remaining, 

Yields  to  receive  what  shaft  thy  fair  eye  darteth  ! 
Well  do  I  see,  thine  eye  my  bale  imparteth  ; 
And  that  save  death,  no  hope  I  am  detaining. 
For  what  is  he  can  alter  fortune's  sliding  ? 
One  in  his  bed  consumes  his  life  away, 
Other  in  wars,  another  in  the  sea : 
The  like  effects  in  me  have  their  abiding ; 
For  heavens  avowed  my  fortune  should  be  such, 
That  I  should  die  by  loving  far  too  much. 


SONNET    X. 

Y  God,  my  God,  how  much  I  love  my  goddess  ! 
Whose  virtues  rare,  unto  the  heavens  arise. 
My  God,  my  God,  how  much  I  love  her  eyes ! 
One  shining  bright,  the  other  full  of  hardness. 
My  God,  my  God,  how  much  I  love  her  wisdom  ! 
Whose  works  may  ravish  heaven's  richest  "  maker." 
Of  whose  eyes'  joys,  if  I  might  be  partaker; 
Then  to  my  soul,  a  holy  rest  would  come. 
My  God,  how  much  I  love  to  hear  her  speak  ! 
Whose  hands  I  kiss,  and  ravished  oft  rekisseth  ; 
When  she  stands  wotless,  whom  so  much  she  blesseth. 
Say  then,  What  mind  this  honest  love  would  break ; 
Since  her  perfections  pure,  withouten  blot. 
Makes  her  beloved  of  them,  she  knoweth  not? 


*fo 


io6 


D  I A  N  A  . 


"II.  Constable  and  oilier* 
?,  but  befoie  1594. 


THE   SEVENTH   DECADE. 

SONNET    I  . 

He  First  Created  held  a  joyous  bower, 
A  flowering  field,  the  world's  sole  wonderment, 
Hight  Paradise ;  from  whence  a  woman's  power 
Enticed  him  fall  to  endless  banishment. 
This  on  the  banks  of  Euphrates  did  stand, 
Till  the  first  Mover,  by  His  wondrous  might, 
Planted  it  in  thine  eyes  !  thy  face  !  thy  hands  ! 
From  whence  the  world  receives  his  fairest  light. 
Thy  cheeks  contains  choice  flowers  ;  thy  eyes,  two  suns  ; 
Thy  hands,  the  fruit  that  no  life  blood  can  stain ; 
And  in  thy  breath,  that  heavenly  music  wons ; 
Which,  when  thou  speak'st,  angels  their  voices  strain. 
As  from  the  first,  thy  Sex  exiled  me  ! 
So  to  this  next,  let  me  be  called  by  theel 


SONNE  Til. 

lAm  Grace  of  Graces  !  Muse  of  Muses  all ! 
Thou  Paradise  !  thou  only  heaven  I  know  ! 
What  influence  hath  bred  my  hateful  woe, 
That  I  from  thee  and  them,  am  forced  to  fall  ? 
Thou  fallen  from  me,  from  thee  I  never  shall, 
Although  my  fortunes  thou  hast  brought  so  low  ; 
Yet  shall  my  faith  and  service  with  thee  go  ! 
For  live  I  do,  on  heaven  and  thee  to  call. 
Banish'd  all  grace,  no  Graces  with  me  dwell  ; 
Compelled  to  muse,  my  Muses  from  me  fly  ; 
Excluded  heaven,  what  can  remain  but  hell  ? 
Exiled  from  Paradise,  in  hate  I  lie, 
Cursing  my  stars  :  albeit  I  find  it  true, 
I  lost  all  these,  when  I  lost  love  and  you. 


H.  Constable  and  others."!  J~)   T  A  ]\T  A 

♦•J 


?,  but  before  1594.  J  ^  *  A  IV  *  •  I OJ 


SONNE  Till. 

Hat  viewed  I,  Dear!  when  I,  thine  eyes  beheld  ? 
Love  in  his  glory  ?     No,  him  Thyrsis  saw, 
And  stood  the  boy  !  whilst  he,  his  darts  did  draw ; 
Whose  painted  pride  to  baser  swains  he  telled. 
Saw  I  two  suns  ?     That  sight  is  seen  but  seld. 
Yet  can  their  brood  that  teach  the  holy  law 
Gaze  on  their  beams,  and  dread  them  not  a  straw ; 
Where  princely  looks  are  by  their  eyes  repelled. 
What  saw  I  then  ?     Doubtless  it  was,  Amen  ! 

Armed  with  strong  thunder  and  a  lightning's  flame ; 
Who,  bridegroom  like,  with  power  was  riding  then, 
Meaning  that  none  should  see  him  when  he  came. 
Yet  did  I  gaze ;  and  thereby  caught  the  wound 
Which  burns  my  heart,  and  keeps  my  body  sound. 


SONNET   IV . 

Hen  tedious  much,  and  over  weary  long, 
Cruel  disdain,  reflecting  from  her  brow, 
Hath  been  the  cause  that  I  endured  such  wrong; 
And  rest  thus  discontent  and  weary  now. 
Yet  when  posterity,  in  time  to  come, 

Shall  find  th'uncancelled  tenour  of  her  vow  ; 
And  her  disdain  be  then  confest  of  some, 
How  much  unkind  and  long,  I  find  it  now. 
O  yet  even  then  (though  then,  will  be  too  late 
To  comfort  me  ;  dead,  many  a  day,  ere  then), 
They  shall  confess— I  did  not  force  her  heart : 
And  time  shall  make  it  known  to  other  men — 
That  ne'er  had  her  disdain  made  me  despair, 
Had  she  not  been  so  excellently  fair. 


j  q§  T)  JAMA  f^'  C-0"51^'6  an^  others. 


?,  but  before  1594. 


SONNET    V . 


Ad  she  not  been  so  excellently  fair, 
My  Muse  had  never  mourned  in  lines  of  woe  : 
But  I  did  too  too  inestimable  weigh  her, 
And  that's  the  cause  I  now  lament  me  so. 
Yet  not  for  her  contempt  do  I  complain  me 

(Complaints  may  ease  the  mind,  but  that  is  all) ; 
Therefore  though  she  too  constantly  disdain  me, 
I  can  but  sigh  and  grieve,  and  so  I  shall. 
Yet  grieve  I  not,  because  I  must  grieve  ever; 
And  yet,  alas,  waste  tears  away  in  vain. 
I  am  resolved  truly  to  persever, 
Though  she  persisteth  in  her  old  disdain. 
But  that  which  grieves  me  most,  is  that  I  see 
Those  which  most  fair,  the  most  unkindest  be. 


SONNE  T    VI. 

Hus  long  imposed  to  everlasting  plaining 
(Divinely  constant  to  the  worthiest  Fair), 
And  moved  by  eternally  disdaining, 
Aye  to  persever  in  unkind  despair : 
Because  now,  Silence,  wearily  confined 
In  tedious  dying,  and  a  dumb  restraint, 
Breaks  forth  in  tears  from  mine  unable  mind 
To  ease  her  passion  by  a  poor  complaint : 
O  do  not  therefore  to  thyself  suggest ! 

That  I  can  grieve,  to  have  immured  so  long 
Upon  the  matter  of  mine  own  unrest : 
Such  grief  is  not  the  tenour  of  my  song, 
That  'bide  so  zealously  so  bad  a  wrong. 
My  grief  is  this.     Unless  I  speak  and  plain  me, 
Thou  will  persever  ever  to  disdain  me. 


K 


H   Constable  and  others."|  7")    7     . 

?,  but  before  1594.J  J-S  1  A  N  A  .  jqq 

SONNET    VII. 

Hou  wilt  persever  ever  to  disdain  me ; 
And  I  shall  then  die;  when  thou  will  repent  it: 
O  do  not  therefore  from  complaint  restrain  me ! 
And  take  my  life  from  me,  to  me  that  lent  it. 
For  whilst  these  accents,  weepingly  expreat 
In  humble  lines,  of  reverentest  zeal, 
Have  issue  to  complaint  from  mine  unrest ; 
They  but  thy  beauty's  wonder  shall  reveal. 
And  though  the  grieved  Muse  of  some  other  lover, 
(Whose  less  devotions  knew  but  woes  like  mine) 
Would  rather  seek  occasion  to  discover 
How  little  pitiful,  and  how  much  unkind; 
They  other  (not  so  worthy)  beauties  find. 
O,  I  not  so;  but  seek,  with  humble  prayer, 
Means  how  to  move  th'unmercifullest  1'air. 


SONNET    VIII. 

S  draws  the  golden  Meteor  of  the  day 
Exhaled  matter,  from  the  ground  to  heaven ; 
And  by  his  secret  nature,  there  to  stay 
The  thing  fast  held,  and  yet  of  hold  bereaven  ; 
So  by  th'attractive  excellence  and  might, 
Born  to  the  power  of  thy  transparent  eyes, 
Drawn  from  myself,  ravished  with  thy  delight, 
Whose  dumb  conceits  divinely  Sirenise, 
Lo,  in  suspense  of  fear  and  hope  upholden, 
Diversely  poised  with  passions  that  pain  me: 
No  resolution  dares  my  thoughts  embolden, 
Since  'tis  not  I,  but  thou  that  dost  sustain  me. 
O  if  there's  none  but  thou  can  work  my  woe ; 
Wilt  thou  be  still  unkind,  and  kill  me  so? 


r  Trt  T~\    T  A    \T  A  [  H-  Constable  and  others. 


f,  but  before  1504. 


SONNET   IX. 

Ilt  thou  be  still  unkind,  and  kill  me  so? 
Whose  humbled  vows,  with  sorrowful  appeal, 
Do  still  persist ;  and  did,  so  long  ago, 
Intreat  for  pity,  with  so  pure  a  zeal  ? 
Suffice  the  world  shall,  for  the  world  can  say 

How  much  thy  power  hath  power,  and  what  it  can ; 
Never  was  victor-hand  yet  moved  to  slay 
The  rendered  captive,  or  the  yielding  man. 
Then,  O,  why  should  thy  woman-thought  impose 
Death  and  disdain  on  him,  that  yields  his  breath; 
To  free  his  soul  from  discontent  and  woes, 
And  humble  sacrifice  to  a  certain  death  ? 
O  since  the  world  knows,  what  the  power  can  do: 
What  were't  for  thee,  to  save  and  love  rue  too  ? 


SONNE  T    X. 

Meet  not  mine,  by  others'  discontent. 
For  none  compares  with  me  in  true  devotion  ; 
Yet  though  my  tears  and  sighs  to  her  be  spent, 
Her  cruel  heart  disdains  what  they  do  motion. 
Yet  though  persisting  in  eternal  hate, 

To  aggravate  the  cause  of  my  complaining, 
Her  fury  ne'er  confineth  with  a  date  : 
I  will  not  cease  to  love,  for  her  disdaining. 
Such  puny  thoughts  of  unresolved  ground, 
Whose  inaudacity  dares  but  base  conceit, 
In  me  and  my  love  never  shall  be  found  : 
Those  coward  thoughts,  unworthy  minds  await. 
But  those  that  love  well,  have  not  yet  begun ; 
Persever  ever,  and  have  never  done  ! 


H.  Constable  and  others."] 
?,  but  before  1594. J 


D  I A  N A  . 


I  I  I 


THE    EIGHTH    DECADE 


SONNET    I. 

Ers^ver  ever,  and  have  never  done  ! 
You  weeping  accent  of  my  weary  song ! 
0  do  not  you  eternal  passions  shun  ; 
But  be  you  true,  and  everlasting  long! 
Say  that  she  doth  requite  you  with  disdain  ; 
Yet  fortified  with  hope,  endure  your  fortune  ! 
Though  cruel  now,  she  will  be  kind  again  ; 
Such  haps  as  those,  such  love's  as  yours  importune  ! 
Though  she  protests  the  faithfullest  severity 
Inexecrable  beauty  is  inflicting; 
Kindness,  in  time,  will  pity  your  sincerity ! 
Though  now  it  be  your  fortune's  interdicting. 
For  some  can  say,  whose  loves  have  known  like  passion, 
"  Women  are  kind  by  kind,  and  coy  for  fashion." 


SONNE  T    II. 

Ive  period  to  my  matter  of  complaining, 
Fair  Wonder  of  our  time's  admiring  eye  ! 
And  entertain  no  more  thy  long  disdaining, 
Or  give  me  leave,  at  last,  that  I  may  die ! 
For  who  can  live,  perpetually  secluded 

From  death  to  life,  that  loathes  her  discontent  ? 
Less  by  some  hope  seducingly  deluded, 
Such  thoughts  aspire  to  fortunate  event ; 
But  I,  that  now  have  drawn  mal-pleasant  breath, 
Under  the  burden  of  thy  cruel  hate ; 
O,  I  must  long,  and  linger  after  death ; 
And  yet  I  dare  not  give  my  life  her  date : 
For  if  I  die,  and  thou  repent  t'have  slain  me  ; 
'Twill  grieve  me  more,  than  if  thou  didst  disdain  mc. 


I  12 


D  I  A  N  A  , 


LK.  Constable  and  others. 
?,  but  before  1594. 


SONNET    III. 

Will  grieve  me  more  than  if  thou  didst  disdain  me, 
That  I  should  die  ;  and  thou,  because  I  die  so  : 
And  yet  to  die,  it  should  not  know  to  pain  me, 
If  cruel  Beauty  were  content  to  bid  so. 
Death,  to  my  life  ;  life,  to  my  long  despair 

Prolonged  by  her ;  given  to  my  love  and  days  : 
Are  means  to  tell  how  truly  she  is  fair, 
And  I  can  die  to  testify  her  praise. 
Yet  not  to  die,  though  Fairness  me  despiseth, 
Is  cause  why  in  complaint  I  thus  persever  ; 
Though  Death  me  and  my  love  imparadiseth, 
By  interdicting  me  from  her  for  ever. 
I  do  not  grieve  that  I  am  forced  to  die, 
But  die,  to  think  upon  the  reason,  "  Why  ?  " 


SONNE  T    IV. 

Y  tears  are  true  :  though  Others  be  divine, 
And  sing  of  wars,  and  Troy's  new  rising  frame ; 
Meeting  heroic  feet  in  every  line, 
That  tread  high  measures  in  the  Scene  of  Fame, 
And  I  (though  disaccustoming  my  Muse, 
And  sing  but  low  songs,  in  an  humble  vein) 
May  one  day  raise  my  style,  as  others  use ; 
And  turn  Elizon  to  a  higher  strain. 
When  reintombing  from  oblivious  ages, 
In  better  stanzas  her  surviving  wonder: 
I  may  opposed  against  the  monster-rages 
That  part  desert  and  excellence  asunder : 
That  she,  though  coy,  may  yet  survive  to  see, 
Her  beauty's  wonder  lives  again  in  me. 


H.  Constable  and  others."!  7~)    T    .    .,    .  T  t  ~ 

?,  but  before  ISS4- I  UIANA*  II3 


SONNET    V. 

Ometimes  in  verse  I  praised,  sometimes  in  verse  I 
sigh't. 
No  more  shall  pen  with  love  and  beauty  mell ; 
But  to  my  heart  alone,  my  heart  shall  tell 
How  unseen  flames  do  burn  it  day  and  night. 
Lest  flames  give  light,  light  bring  my  love  to  sight, 
And  my  love  prove  my  folly  to  excel. 
Wherefore  my  love  burns  like  the  fire  of  hell ; 
Wherein  is  fire,  and  yet  there  is  no  light. 
For  if  one  never  loved  like  me  ;  then  why 

Skill-less  blames  he  the  thing  he  doth  not  know  ? 
And  he  that  so  hath  loved,  should  favour  show ; 
For  he  hath  been  a  fool  as  well  as  I. 
Thus  shall  henceforth  more  pain,  more  folly  have  z 
And  folly  past,  may  justly  pardon  crave.- 


IT. 


ii4 


[ 


H.  Constable, 
t      1588. 


A  calculation  upon  the  birth  of  an  Honour- 
able Ladys  Daughter  ;  born  in  the 
year  1588,  and  on  a  Friday. 


Air  by  inheritance  !  whom  born  we  see 
Both  in  the  Wondrous  Year,  and  on  the 

day 
Wherein  the  fairest  Planet  beareth  sway ; 
The  heavens  to   thee,  this   fortune  doth 
decree ! 
Thou  of  a  world  of  hearts  in  time  shall  be 
A  Monarch  great ;  and  with  one  beauty's  ray 
So  many  hosts  of  hearts,  thy  face  shall  slay  ; 
As  all  the  rest,  for  love,  shall  yield  to  thee  ! 
But  even  as  Alexander,  when  he  knew 

His  father's  conquests,  wept ;  lest  he  should  leave 
No  kingdom  unto  him  for  to  subdue  : 
So  shall  thy  mother,  thee  of  praise  bereave  ! 
So  many  hearts  already  she  hath  slain; 
As  few  behind  to  conquer  shall  remain. 

FINIS. 


H5 


Samuel      Daniel. 
DEL  I  A. 

JRtas  prima  canat  veneres,  postrema  tumultus. 

[From  the  Volume  entitled  DELIA  and  ROSAMOND  augmented  &>c.  i5q.».] 

To     the    Right    Honourable 

the    Lady    Mary, 

Countess    of    Pembroke. 

Onder  of  these  !  Glory  of  other  times! 

0  Thou,  whom  Envy,  ev'n,  is  forced  V admire  ! 

Great  Patroness  of  these  my  humble  rhymes. 

Which  Thou,  from  out  thy  greatness,  dost  inspire  ! 
Since  only  Thou  hast  deigned  to  raise  them  higher; 

Vouchsafe  now,  to  accept  them  as  thine  own  I 

Begotten  by  thy  hand,  and  my  desire  ; 

Wherein  my  zeal,  and  thy  great  might  is  shown. 
And  seeing  this  unto  the  world  is  known; 

O  leave  not,  still,  to  grace  thy  work  in  me  ! 

Let  not  the  quickening  seed  be  overthrown, 

Of  that  which  may  be  born  to  honour  Thee  t 
Whereof,  the  travail  I  may  challenge  mine  ; 
But  yet  the  glory,  Madam  !  must  be  thine  ' 


n6 


Fifty-five  Sonnets  follow  this  Dedication,  in  the  1594  edition  of 
Daniel's  Delia  and  Rosamund  Augmented.  The  edition  was 
designed  by  the  poet  to  be  the  final  revision  of  his  Sonnets  to  Delia, 
fifty  of  which  had  already  appeared  in  a  separate  volume  in  1592.  One 
was  now  dropped  and  six  were  added.  Twenty-two  of  the  Sonnets 
included  in  the  1 594  edition  of  Delia  were  originally  published  (in  the  case 
of  three  with  verbal  differences)  among  a  series  of  twenty-eight  forming 
an  appendix  to  the  1591  quarto  edition  of  Sidney's  Astrophel  and 
Stella  (printed  in  this  collection,  vol.  i.  pp.  88-92  supra).  Of  these 
twenty-two  poems,  all  of  which  appear  in  vol.  i.  pp.  88-92  supra,  the 
three,  which  underwent  much  verbal  change,  are  again  reprinted  here 
(see  Nos.  XIV.,  XLIII.,  and  LV.),  but  the  rest  are  now  omitted.  The 
place  occupied  by  each  of  the  nineteen  omitted  Sonnets  is  duly 
indicated,  with  a  precise  reference  to  the  volume  and  page  in  which 
they  may  be  found  in  our  first  volume. 


ii7 


8fa  T  O 


DELIA 


SONNET  I. 

Nto  the  boundless  Ocean  of  thy  beauty, 
Runs  this  poor  river,  charged  with  streams 

of  zeal ; 
Returning     Thee,    the     tribute    of    my 

duty, 
Which  here  my  love,  my  youth, my  plaints 
reveal. 

Here,  I  unclasp  the  Book  of  my  charged  Soul ; 
Where  I  have  cast  th'accounts  of  all  my  care : 
Here,  have  I  summed  my  sighs.     Here,  I  enrol 
How  they  were  spent  for  thee  !     Look  !  what  they  are  ! 
Look  on  the  dear  expenses  of  my  youth  ! 

And  see  how  just  I  reckon  with  thine  eyes  ! 
Examine  well,  thy  beauty  with  my  truth  ! 
And  cross  my  cares,  ere  greater  sums  arise  ! 
Read  it,  Sweet  Maid  !  though  it  be  done  but  slightly  i 
Who  can  shew  all  his  love,  doth  love  but  lightly. 

Sonnet  II.  —  '  Go,  wailing  verse  ! '     See  vol.  i.  p.  88  supra. 
Sonnet  III.—'  If  so  it  hap.'     See  vol.  i.  p.  89  supra. 


uS 


Delia. 


S.  Daniel. 
-     1     1594- 


SONNET    IV. 


Hese  plaintive  verse[s],  the  Posts  of  my  desire, 
Which  haste  for    succour  to  her  slow  regard; 
Bear  not  report  of  any  slender  fire, 
Forging  a  grief,  to  win  a  fame's  reward. 
Nor  are  my  passions  limned  for  outward  hue, 

For  that  no  colours  can  depaint  my  sorrows: 
Delia  herself,  and  all  the  world  may  view 
Best  in  my  face,  where  cares  hath  tilled  deep  turrows. 
No  bays  I  seek,  to  deck  my  mourning  brow, 
0  clear-eyed  Rector  of  the  holy  Hill  ! 
My  humble  accents  bear  the  olive  bcftigh 
Of  intercession  to  a  tyrant's  will. 
These  lines  I  use,  t'unburden  mine  own  heart  ; 
My  love  affects  no  fame,  nor  'steems  of  art. 


SONNET    V . 

Hilst  Youth  and  Error  led  my  wandering  mind, 
And  set  my  thoughts,  in  heedless  ways  to  range ; 
All  unawares,  a  goddess  chaste  I  find, 
D  i  an  A-like,  to  work  my  sudden  change. 
For  her,  no  sooner  had  mine  eye  bewrayed  ; 
But  with  disdain  to  see  me  in  that  place, 
With  fairest  hand,  the  sweet  unkindest  maid 
Casts  water-cold  disdain  upon  my  face  : 
Which  turned  my  sport  into  a  hart's  despair, 

Which  still  is  chased,  while  I  have  any  breath, 
By  mine  own  thoughts,  set  on  me  by  my  Fair. 
My  thoughts,  like  hounds,  pursue  me  to  my  death. 
Those  that  I  fostered,  of  mine  own  accord, 
Are  made  by  her,  to  murder  thus  their  Lord. 


Delia  . 


119 


SONNET    VI. 

Air  is  my  love,  and  cruel  as  she's  fair : 
Her   brow  shades   frowns,  although    her   eyes  are 

sunny  ; 
Her  smiles  are  lightening,  though  her  pride  despair; 
And  her  disdains  are  gall,  her  favours  honey. 
A  modest  maid,  decked  with  a  blush  of  honour, 

Whose  feet  do  tread  green  paths  of  youth  and  love  ; 
The  wonder  of  all  eyes  that  look  upon  her : 
Sacred  on  earth,  designed  a  saint  above, 
Chastity  and  Beauty,  which  were  deadly  foes, 
Live  reconciled  friends  within  her  brow : 
And  had  she  Pity,  to  conjoin  with  those ; 
Then  who  had  heard  the  plaints  I  utter  now  ? 
O  had  she  not  been  fair,  and  thus  unkind ; 
My  Muse  had  slept,  and  none  had  known  my  mind! 


SONNET    VII. 

Had  she  not  been  fair,  and  thus  unkind! 
Then  had  no  finger  pointed  at  my  lightness. 
The  world  had  never  known  what  I  do  find, 
And  clouds  obscure  had  shaded  still  her  brightness. 
Then  had  no  Censor's  eye  these  lines  surveyed, 

Nor  graver  brows  have  judged  my  Muse  so  vain  : 
No  sun,  my  blush  and  error  had  bewrayed  ; 
Nor  yet  the  world  had  heard  of  such  disdain. 
Then  had  I  walked  with  bold  erected  face  ; 
No  downcast  look  had  signified  my  miss: 
But  my  degraded  hopes,  with  such  disgrace, 
Did  force  me  groan  out  griefs,  and  utter  this. 
For.  being  full,  should  I  not  then  have  spoken  ; 
My  sense,  oppressed,  had  failed,  and  heart  had  broken. 


.  Daniel 
1594- 


1 20  Delia.  [sf 

SONNET    VIII. 

Hou,  poor  Heart !  sacrificed  unto  the  fairest, 
Hast  sent  the  incense  of  thy  sighs  to  heaven  ! 
And  still  against  her  frowns,  fresh  vows  repairest ; 
And  made  thy  passions  with  her  beauty  even. 
And  you,  mine  Eyes  !  the  agents  of  my  heart, 
Told  the  dumb  message  of  my  hidden  grief: 
And  oft,  with  careful  tunes,  with  silent  art, 
Did  'treat  the  cruel  Fair  to  yield  relief. 
And  you,  my  Verse  !  the  advocates  of  love, 

Have  followed  hard  the  process  of  my  case : 
And  urged  that  title,  which  doth  plainly  prove 
My  faith  should  win,  if  justice  might  have  place. 
Yet  though  I  see,  that  nought  we  do  can  move  her; 
Tis  not  disdain,  must  make  me  cease  to  love  her. 

Sonnet  IX. — '  If  this  be  love.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  99  supra. 


SONNET    X. 

Then  love  I,  and  draw  this  weary  breath 
For  her,  the  cruel  Fair ;  within  whose  brow, 
I,  written  find,  the  sentence  of  my  death, 
In  unkind  letters,  wrought,  she  cares  not  how! 
O  thou  that  rul'st  the  confines  of  the  night ! 

Laughter-loving  Goddess  !     Worldly  pleasures'  Queen  ! 
Intenerate  that  heart !  that  sets  so  light 
The  truest  love  that  ever  yet  was  seen : 
And  cause  her  leave  to  triumph,  in  this  wise, 
Upon  the  prostrate  spoil  of  that  poor  heart ! 
That  serves  a  Trophy  to  her  conquering  eyes, 
And  must  their  glory  to  the  world  impart. 
Once,  let  her  know!  sh'  hath  done  enough  to  prove  me; 
And  let  her  pity,  if  she  cannot  love  me  ! 

Sonnet  XI. — 'Tears,  vows,  and  prayers.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  90  supra. 


S  Daniel."!  DELIA.  121 

?     i 594. J 

SONNET   XII. 

Y  spotless  love  hovers,  with  purest  wings, 
About  the  temple  of  the  proudest  frame  ; 
Where  blaze  those  lights,  fairest  of  earthly  things, 
Which  clear  our  clouded  world  with  brightest  flame. 

M'  ambitious  thoughts,  confined  in  her  face, 
Affect  no  honour,  but  what  she  can  give : 
My  hopes  do  rest  in  limits  of  her  grace ; 
I  weigh  no  comfort,  unless  she  relieve. 

For  she,  that  can  my  heart  imparadise, 

Holds  in  her  fairest  hand,  what  dearest  is. 
My  Fortune's  Wheel 's  the  Circle  of  her  Eyes ; 
Whose  rolling  grace  deign  once  a  turn  of  bliss  ! 

All  my  life's  sweet  consists  in  her  alone  ; 

So  much  I  love  the  most  unloving  one. 

Sonnet  XIll.— '  Behold  what  hap.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  92  supra. 


SONNET  XIV. 

[First  printed,  with  verbal  differences,  in  Sonnets  after  Sidney  s  Astrophel. 
See  supra,  vol.  i.  p.  91.] 

Hose  snary  locks  are  those  same  nets,  my  Dear! 
Wherewith  my  liberty,  thou  didst  surprise  ! 
Love  was  the  flame  that  fired  me  so  near  : 
The  dart  transpiercing  were  those  crystal  eyes. 

Strong  is  the  net,  and  fervent  is  the  flame  ; 

Deep  is  the  wound,  my  sighs  do  well  report. 

Yet  I  do  love,  adore,  and  praise  the  same 

That  holds,  that  burns,  that  wounds  in  this  sort  ; 

And  list  not  seek  to  break,  to  quench,  to  heal 

The  bond,  the  flame,  the  wound  that  festereth  so. 
By  knife,  by  liquor,  or  by  salve  to  deal  : 
So  much  I  please  to  perish  in  my  woe. 

Yet  lest  long  travails  be  above  my  strength  ; 

Good  Delia!  Loose,  quench,  heal  me,  now  at  length 

Sonnet  XV.—'  If  a  true  heart.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  95  supra. 
Sonnet  XVI.—'  Happy  in  sleep. '    See  vol.  1.  p.  98  supra. 


122  Delia.  [s-^a; 


anie!. 
594- 


SONNET   X  VII. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition.] 

Hy  should  I  sing  in  verse?     Why  should  I  frame 
These  sad  neglected  notes,  for  her  dear  sake  r 
Why  should  I  offer  up  unto  her  name, 
The  sweetest  sacrifice  my  youth  can  make  ? 
Why  should  I  strive  to  make  her  live  for  ever, 
That  never  deigns  to  give  me  joy  to  live  ? 
Why  should  m'affiicted  Muse  so  much  endeavour 
Such  honour,  unto  cruelty  to  give  ? 
If  her  defects  have  purchased  her  this  fame  ; 

What  should  her  virtues  do  ?  her  smiles  ?  her  love  ? 
If  this,  her  worst ;  how  should  her  best  inflame  ? 
What  passions  would  her  milder  favours  move  r 
Favours,  I  think,  would  sense  quite  overcome  ; 
And  that  makes  happy  lovers  ever  dumb. 

Sonnet  XVIII. — '  Since  the  first  look.'     See  vol.  i.  p.  96  supra. 
Sonnet  XIX.  — '  Restore  thy  tresses.'     See  vol.  i.  p.  94  supra. 
Sonnet  XX. — 'If  Beauty  bright.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  98  supra. 
Sonnet  XXI. — 'Come  Death.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  99  supra. 
Sonnet  XXII.  — '  These  sorrowing  sighs.'     See  vol.  i.  p.  89  supra. 

SONNET    XXIII. 

Alse  Hope  prolongs  my  ever  certain  grief, 
Traitor  to  me,  and  faithful  to  my  Love. 
A  thousand  times  it  promised  me  relief, 
Yet  never  any  true  effect  I  prove. 

Oft,  when  I  find  in  her  no  truth  at  all, 

I  banish  her,  and  blame  her  treachery : 
Yet,  soon  again,  I  must  her  back  recall, 
As  one  that  dies  without  her  company. 

Thus  often,  as  I  chase  my  Hope  from  me, 

Straightway,  she  hastes  her  unto  Delia's  eyes  : 
Fed  with  some  pleasing  look,  there  shall  she  be ; 
And  so  sent  back.     And  thus  my  fortune  lies. 

Looks  feed  my  Hope,  Hope  fosters  me  in  vain ; 

Hopes  are  unsure,  when  certain  is  my  Pain. 

Sonnet  XXIV. — '  Look  in  my  griefs  ! '     See  vol.  i.  p.  97  supra. 
Sonnet  XXV.—'  Reign  in  my  thoughts  ! '    See  vol.  i.  p.  93  supra. 
Sonnet  XXVI.  —  '  Whilst  by  her  eyes.'     See  vol.  i.  p.  97  supra. 


ErtPfc 


S.  Daniel. T  7")   „   , 

i  1594J  Delia.  123 

SONNET   XXVII. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition.] 

Till  in  the  trace  of  my  tormented  thought, 
My  ceaseless  cares  must  march  on  to  my  death. 
Thy  least  regard  too  dearly  have  I  bought, 
Who,  to  my  comfort,  never  deign'st  a  breath  ! 
Why  should'st  thou  stop  thine  ears  now  to  my  cries  ? 
Whose  eyes  were  open,  ready  to  oppress  me ! 
Why  shutt'st  thou  not,  the  cause  whence  all  did  rise  ? 
Or  hear  me  now,  or  seek  how  to  redress  me  ! 
Injurious  Delia!     Yet,  I'll  love  thee  still ! 

Whilst  that  I  breathe  in  sorrow  of  my  smart ; 
I'll  tell  the  world  that  I  deserved  but  ill, 
And  blame  myself,  for  to  excuse  thy  heart ! 
Then  judge  !  who  sins  the  greater  of  us  twain  : 
I,  in  my  love;  or  thou,  in  thy  disdain  1 


SONNET    XXVIII. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition.] 

i  Ft  do  I  marvel,  whether  Delia's  eyes 
Are  eyes,  or  else  two  radiant  stars  that  shine  ? 
For  how  could  Nature  ever  thus  devise 
Of  earth,  on  earth,  a  substance  so  divine  ? 
Stars,  sure,  they  are  !  Whose  motions  rule  desires ; 
And  calm  and  tempest  follow  their  aspects : 
Their  sweet  appearing  still  such  power  inspires, 
That  makes  the  world  admire  so  strange  effects. 
Yet  whether  fixed  or  wandering  stars  are  they, 

Whose  influence  rules  the  Orb  of  my  poor  heart  ? 
Fixed,  sure,  they  are  !  But  wandering,  make  me  stray 
In  endless  errors  ;  whence  I  cannot  part. 
Stars,  then,  not  eyes !  Move  you,  with  milder  view, 
Your  sweet  aspect  on  him  that  honours  you  1 

Sonnet  XXIX.— 'The  star  of  my  mishap.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  ioo  supra. 


124 


Delia 


"S.  Daniel. 
.    1     1594- 


SONNET   XXX. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition.] 

Nd  yet,  I  cannot  reprehend  the  flight, 
Or  blame  th'attempt,  presuming  so  to  soar: 
The  mounting  venture,  for  a  high  delight, 
Did  make  the  honour  of  the  fall  the  more. 
For  who  gets  wealth,  that  puts  not  from  the  shore  ? 
Danger  hath  honour !  great  designs,  their  fame  ! 
Glory  doth  follow !  courage  goes  before  ! 
And  though  th'event  oft  answers  not  the  same ; 
Suffice  that  high  attempts  have  never  shame. 

The  Mean-observer  (whom  base  safety  keeps) 
Lives  without  honour,  dies  without  a  name ; 
And  in  eternal  darkness  ever  sleeps. 
And  therefore,  Delia!  'tis  to  me,  no  blot ; 
To  have  attempted,  though  attained  thee  not ! 

Sonnet  XXXI.  —  *  Raising  my  hope.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  102  supra. 
Sonnet  XXXII.  —  '  Why  doth  my  mistress.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  91  supra. 
Sonnet  XXXIII.  — '  I  once  may  see.'    See  vol.  i.  p.  101  supra. 


SONNET      XXXIV. 

OoK,  Delia!  how  we  'steem  the  half-blown  rose, 
(The  image  of  thy  blush  !  and  summer's  honour) 
Whilst,  in  her  tender  green,  she  doth  inclose 
The  pure  sweet  beauty  Time  bestows  upon  her! 
No  sooner  spreads  her  glory  in  the  air, 

But  straight  her  full-blown  pride  is  in  declining  ; 
She  then  is  scorned,  that  late  adorned  the  fair. 
So  clouds  thy  beauty,  after  fairest  shining ! 
No  April  can  revive  thy  withered  flowers, 

Whose  blooming  grace  adorns  thy  glory  now  ! 
Swift  speedy  Time,  feathered  with  flying  hours, 
Dissolves  the  beauty  of  the  fairest  brow. 
O  let  not  then  such  riches  waste  in  vain  ! 
But  love  !  whilst  that  thou  may'st  be  loved  again ! 


S.  Daniel."] 
J     I594-J 


Del  i  a  . 


125 


SONNET    XXXV. 

Ut  love !  whilst  that  thou  may'st  be  loved  again  ! 
Now,  whilst  thy  May  hath  filled  thy  lap  with  flowers ! 
Now,  whilst  thy  beauty  bears  without  a  stain ! 
Now,  use  thy  summer  smiles,  ere  Winter  lowers! 
And  whilst  thou  spread'st  unto  the  rising  sun, 
The  fairest  flower  that  ever  saw  the  light ; 
Now  joy  thy  time,  before  thy  sweet  be  done  ! 
And,  Delia!  think  thy  morning  must  have  night ! 
And  that  thy  brightness  sets  at  length  to  West ; 

When  thou  wilt  close  up  that,  which  now  thou  showest ! 
And  think  the  same  becomes  thy  fading  best, 
Which,  then,  shall  hide  it  most,  and  cover  lowest  ! 
Men  do  not  weigh  the  stalk,  for  that  it  was  ; 
When  once  they  find  her  flower,  her  glory  pass. 


SONNET     XXXVI. 

Hen  men  shall  find  thy  flower,  thy  glory  pass  : 
And  thou,  with  careful  brow,  sitting  alone, 
Received  hast  this  message,  from  thy  glass; 
That  tells  the  truth,  and  says  that  "  All  is  gone  ! 
Fresh  shalt  thou  see  in  me,  the  wounds  thou  madest ; 
Though  spent  thy  flame,  in  me  the  heat  remaining. 
I  that  have  loved  thee  thus  before  thou  fadest, 
My  faith  shall  wax,  when  thou  art  in  thy  waning! 
The  world  shall  find  this  miracle  in  me, 

That  fire  can  burn,  when  all  the  matter  's  spent. 
Then  what  my  faith  hath  been,  thyself  shalt  see  ! 
And  that  thou  wast  unkind,  thou  may'st  repent  ! 
Thou  may'st  repent,  that  thou  hast  scorned  my  tears, 
When  Winter  snows  upon  thy  golden  hairs. 


DanieL 
594- 


126  Delia.  [sfD?« 

SONNET      XXXVII. 


|Hen  Winter  snows  upon  thy  golden  hairs, 
And  frost  of  Age  hath  nipped  thy  flowers  near; 
When  dark  shall  seem  thy  day,  that  never  clears, 
And  all  lies  withered  that  was  held  so  dear: 
Then  take  this  picture,  which  I  here  present  thee ! 
Limned  with  a  pencil,  not  all  unworthy, 
Here,  see  the  gifts  that  GOD  and  Nature  lent  thee! 
Here,  read  thy  Self!  and  what  I  suffered  for  thee  ! 
This  may  remain  thy  lasting  monument, 
Which,  happily,  posterity  may  cherish  : 
These  colours,  with  thy  fading,  are  not  spent ; 
These  may  remain,  when  thou  and  I  shall  perish. 
If  they  remain,  then  thou  shalt  live  thereby  ! 
They  will  remain,  and  so  thou  canst  not  die  I 


PnS 

Si 

SONNET    XXXVIII. 

Hou  canst  not  die,  whilst  any  zeal  abound 
In  feeling  hearts,  that  can  conceive  these  lines : 
Though  thou,  a  Laura,  hast  no  Petrarch  found ; 
In  base  attire,  y&t,  clearly,  Beauty  shines. 
And  I,  though  born  within  a  colder  clime, 

Do  feel  mine  inward  heat  as  great  (I  know  it). 
He  never  had  more  faith,  although  more  rhyme : 
I  love  as  well,  though  he  could  better  show  it. 
But  I  may  add  one  feather  to  thy  fame, 

To  help  her  flight  throughout  the  fairest  Isle  ; 
And  if  my  pen  could  more  enlarge  thy  name, 
Then  should'st  thou  live  in  an  immortal  style. 
For  though  that  Laura  better  limned  be; 
Suffice,  thou  shalt  be  loved  as  well  as  she  ! 


S.  Daniel." 
?     IS94-. 


Del i a  . 
SONNET    XXXIX. 


127 


Be  not  grieved  that  these  my  papers  should 
Bewray  unto  the  world,  how  fair  thou  art ! 
Or  that  my  wits  have  shewed,  the  best  they  could, 
The  chastest  flame  that  ever  warmed  heart. 
Think  not,  sweet  Delia!  this  shall  be  thy  shame, 

My  Muse  should  sound  thy  praise  with  mournful  warble! 
How  many  live,  the  glory  of  whose  name 
Shall  rest  in  ice,  while  thine  is  graved  in  marble ! 
Thou  may'st,  in  after  ages,  live  esteemed  ! 

Unburied  in  these  lines,  reserved  in  pureness. 
These  shall  entomb  those  eyes,  that  have  redeemed 
Me,  from  the  vulgar ;  thee,  from  all  obscureness. 
Although  my  careful  accents  never  moved  thee ! 
Yet  count  it  no  disgrace,  that  I  have  loved  thee ! 


SONNET     XL. 

Elia!  These  eyes  that  so  admireth  thine ! 
Have  seen  those  walls  the  which  ambition  reared 
To  check  the  world.    How  they,  entombed,  have  lain 
Within  themselves :  and  on  them  ploughs  have  eared. 
Yet  found  I,  that  no  barbarous  hand  attained 

The  spoil  of  Fame,  deserved  by  virtuous  men, 
Whose  glorious  actions,  luckily,  had  gained 
Th'eternal  annals  of  a  happy  pen. 
Why  then,  though  Delia  fade  !  let  that  not  move  her  1 
Though  time  do  spoil  her  of  the  fairest  veil 
That  ever  yet  mortality  did  cover ; 
Which  must  instar  the  Needle  and  the  Rail. 
That  grace,  that  virtue,  all  that  served  t'in-woman, 
Doth  her,  unto  eternity  assommon. 


128  Delia.  [VSt 

SONNET      X  L  I. 

Air  and  lovely  Maid !     Look  from  the  shore  ! 
See  thy  Leander  striving  in  these  waves ! 
Poor  soul  !  quite  spent,  whose  force  can  do  no  more. 
Now  send  forth  hopes  !   (for  now  calm  pity  saves) 
And  waft  him  to  thee,  with  those  lovely  eyes  I 
A  happy  convoy  to  a  Holy  Land. 
Now  show  thy  power  !  and  where  thy  virtue  lies  ! 
To  save  thine  own,  stretch  out  the  fairest  hand ! 
Stretch  out  the  fairest  hand  !  a  pledge  of  peace  ; 

That  hand  that  darts  so  right,  and  never  misses ! 
I  shall  forget  old  wrongs.     My  griefs  shall  cease. 
And  that  which  gave  me  wounds,  I'll  give  it  kisses. 
O  then,  let  th'ocean  of  my  care  find  shore  ! 
That  thou  be  pleased,  and  I  may  sigh  no  more. 


SONNET     XLII. 

Ead  in  my  face,  a  volume  of  despairs  ! 
The  wailing  Iliads  of  my  tragic  woe  ; 
Drawn  with  my  blood,  and  printed  with  my  cares, 
Wrought  by  her  hand  that  I  have  honoured  so. 
Who,  whilst  I  burn,  she  sings  at  my  soul's  wrack, 
Looking  aloft  from  turret  of  her  pride  : 
There,  my  Soul's  Tyrant  'joys  her  in  the  sack 
Of  her  own  seat ;  whereof  I  made  her  guide. 
There  do  these  smokes,  that  from  affliction  rise, 
Serye  as  an  incense  to  a  cruel  Dame. 
A  sacrifice  thrice-grateful  to  her  eyes, 
Because  their  power  serves  to  exact  the  same. 
Thus  ruins  She,  to  satisfy  her  will, 
The  Temple,  where  her  name  was  honoured  still. 


iBm 


S.  Daniel.  "1  /")   „    T    T    , 

i  1594-  J  JJelia.  129 

SONNET   XL  II I. 

[First  printed,  with  verbal  differences,  in  Sonnets  after  Sidney 's  Astiofihel  (1591). 
See  supra,  vol.  i.  p.  95,  where  the  sonnet  opens  '  My  Cynthia  hath.'] 

Y  Delia  hath  the  waters  of  mine  eyes, 
(The  ready  handmaids  on  her  grace  attending) 
That  never  fall  to  ebb,  but  ever  rise ; 
For  to  their  flow,  she  never  grants  an  ending. 
Th'ocean  never  did  attend  more  duly 

Upon  his  Sovereign's  course,  the  night's  pale  Queen  ; 
Nor  paid  the  impost  of  his  waves  more  truly, 
Than  mine  unto  her  Deity  have  been. 
Yet  nought,  the  rock  of  that  hard  heart  can  move  ; 

Where  beat  these  tears  with  zeal,  and  fury  driveth : 
And  yet,  I  rather  languish  in  her  love, 
Than  I  would  joy  the  fairest  she  that  liveth. 
I  doubt  to  find  such  pleasure  in  my  gaining ; 
As  now  I  taste,  in  compass  of  complaining. 


SONNET     X  L  I  V. 


Ow  long  shall  I,  in  mine  affliction  mourn  ? 
A  burden  to  myself,  distressed  in  mind ; 
When  shall  my  interdicted  hopes  return 
From  out  despair,  wherein  they  live  confined  ? 
When  shall  her  troubled  brow,  charged  with  disdain, 
Reveal  the  treasure  which  her  smiles  impart  ? 
When  shall  my  faith  that  happiness  attain, 
To  break  the  ice,  that  hath  congealed  her  heart  ? 
Unto  herself,  herself  my  love  doth  summon, 
(If  love  in  her,  hath  any  power  to  move)  : 
And  let  her  tell  me,  as  she  is  a  woman, 
Whether  my  faith  hath  not  deserved  her  love  ? 
I  know  she  cannot  !  but  must  needs  confess  it ; 
Yet  deigns  not,  with  one  simple  sign  t'express  it. 
11.  1  9 


i  ;o 


Delia. 


[S.  I  inn  el 
L    1     1594- 


SONNET     X  L  V. 

Eauty,  sweet  love  !  is  like  the  morning  dew  ; 
Whose  short  refresh  upon  the  tender  green, 
Cheers  for  a  time,  but  till  the  sun  doth  show : 
And  straight  'tis  gone,  as  it  had  never  been. 
Soon  doth  it  fade,  that  makes  the  fairest  flourish; 
Short  is  the  glory  of  the  blushing  rose  : 
The  hue  which  thou  so  carefully  dost  nourish  ; 
Yet  which,  at  length,  thou  must  be  forced  to  lose. 
When  thou,  surcharged  with  burden  of  thy  years, 
Shalt  bend  thy  wrinkles  homeward  to  the  earth  ; 
When  Time  hath  made  a  passport  for  thy  fears, 
Dated  in  age,  the  Kalends  of  our  death  : 
But,  ah!  no  more!     This  hath  been  often  told  ; 
And  women  grieve  to  think  they  must  be  old. 


SONNET      X L  V  I . 

Must  not  grieve  my  love  !  whose  eyes  would  read 
Lines  of  delight,  whereon  her  youth  might  smile  ! 
Flowers  have  a  time,  before  they  come  to  seed  ; 
And  she  is  young,  and  now  must  sport  the  while. 
Ah,  sport  !  sweet  Maid  !  in  season  of  these  years  ; 
And  learn  to  gather  flowers  before  they  wither  ! 
And  where  the  sweetest  blossom  first  appears ; 
Let  Love  and  Youth  conduct  thy  pleasures  thither! 
Lighten  forth  smiles  !  to  clear  the  clouded  air, 

And  calm  the  tempest  which  my  sighs  do  raise ! 
Pity  and  Smiles  do  best  become  the  fair; 
Pity  and  Smiles  shall  yield  thee  lasting  praise! 
I  hope  to  say,  when  all  my  griefs  are  gone, 
"  Happy  the  heart,  that  sighed  for  such  a  one  !  " 


S.  Daniel.  "1  T~)    „    ,     ,     . 

?  I594-J  Delia.  131 

SONNET   XL  VII. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition.] 

At  the  Author's  going  into  Italy. 

Whither,  poor  Forsaken  !  wilt  thou  go  ? 
To  go  from  sorrow,  and  thine  own  distress ; 
When  every  place  presents  like  face  of  woe, 
And  no  remove  can  make  thy  sorrows  less ! 
Yet  go,  Forsaken  !     Leave  these  woods,  these  plains  ! 
Leave  her  and  all  !  and  all  for  her,  that  leaves 
Thee  and  thy  love  forlorn  ;  and  both  disdains : 
And  of  both,  wrongful  deems,  and  ill  conceives. 
Seek  out  some  place  !  and  see  if  any  place 
Can  give  the  least  release  unto  thy  grief ! 
Convey  thee  from  the  thought  of  thy  disgrace  ! 
Steal  from  thy  self !  and  be  thy  cares  own  thief! 
But  yet  what  comfort,  shall  I  hereby  gain  ? 
Bearing  the  wound,  I  needs  must  feel  the  pain. 

SONNET     X  L  V  1 1 1. 

C  This  Sonnet  was  made  at  the  Author's  being  in  Italy. 

Rawn  with  th'attractive  virtue  of  her  eyes, 
My  touched  heart  turns  it  to  that  happy  coast ; 
My  joyful  North  !  where  all  my  fortune  lies, 
The  level  of  my  hopes  desired  most. 
There,  where  my  Delia,  fairer  than  the  sun, 

Decked  with  her  youth,  whereon  the  world  doth  smile, 
Joys  in  that  honour,  which  her  eyes  have  won  : 
Th'eternal  wonder  of  our  happy  isle. 
Flourish,  fair  Albion  !,  Glory  of  the  North  ! 

Neptune's  best  darling!  held  between  his  arms: 
Divided  from  the  world,  as  better  worth  ; 
Kept  for  himself,  defended  from  all  harms ! 
Still  let  disarmed  peace  deck  her,  and  thee  ! 
And  Muse-foe  Mars,  abroad  far  fostered  be  ! 


I  \2 


Delia. 


[S.  Daniel. 
I    1      "594- 


SONNET     X  L  I  X. 

ARE-charmer  Sleep  !  Son  of  the  sable  Night  ! 
Brother  to  Death  !     In  silent  darkness,  born  ! 
Relieve  my  anguish,  and  restore  the  light  ! 
With  dark  forgetting  of  my  cares,  return! 
And  let  the  day  be  time  enough  to  mourn 

The  shipwreck  of  my  ill  adventured  youth  ! 
Let  waking  eyes  suffice  to  wail  their  scorn, 
Without  the  torment  of  the  night's  untruth  ! 
Cease,  Dreams  !  th'imag'ry  of  our  day  desires, 
To  model  forth  the  passions  of  the  morrow  ! 
Never  let  rising  sun  approve  you  liars  ! 
To  add  more  grief  to  aggravate  my  sorrow, 
Still  let  me  sleep  !  embracing  clouds  in  vain  ; 
And  never  wake  to  feel  the  day's  disdain. 


SONNE  T      L. 

Et  others  sing  of  Knights  and  Palladins, 
In  aged  accents,  and  untimely  words ! 
Paint  shadows,  in  imaginary  lines  ! 
Which  well  the  reach  of  their  high  wits  records : 
But  I  must  sing  of  Thee  !   and  those  fair  eyes  ! 
Authentic  shall  my  verse,  in  time  to  come, 
When  yet  the  unborn  shall  say,  "  Lo,  where  she  lies ! 
Whose  beauty  made  him  speak,  that  else  was  dumb  !  " 
These  are  the  arks,  the  trophies  I  erect, 
That  fortify  thy  name  against  old  age ; 
And  these,  thy  sacred  virtues  must  protect 
Against  the  dark,  and  Time's  consuming  rage. 
Though  th'error  of  my  youth,  they  shall  discover; 
Suffice  they  shew  I  lived,  and  was  thy  lover  ! 


S.  Daniel." 
?     IS94-- 


Delia 


*3o 


SONNET    LI. 

[First  printed  in  this  edition], 

S  TO  the  Roman,  that  would  free  his  land, 
His  error  was  his  honour  and  renown; 
And  more  the  fame  of  his  mistaking  hand, 
Than  if  he  had  the  tyrant  overthrown. 
So,  Delia!,  hath  mine  error  made  me  known, 

And  my  deceived  attempt,  deserved  more  fame : 
Than  if  I  had  the  victory  mine  own, 
And  thy  hard  heart  had  yielded  up  the  same. 
And  so,  likewise,  renowned  is  thy  blame ! 

Thy  cruelty  !   thy  glory  !  O  strange  case  ! 
That  errors  should  be  graced,  that  merit  shame  ; 
And  sin  of  frowns  bring  honour  to  the  face. 
Yet,  happy  Delia!,  that  thou  wast  unkind ; 
But  happier  yet,  if  thou  would'st  change  thy  mind  ! 


SONNE T      L 1 1 . 

Ike  as  the  lute,  that  joys  or  else  dislikes, 
As  is  his  art  that  plays  upon  the  same  : 
So  sounds  my  Muse,  according  as  she  strikes 
On  my  heart  strings,  high  tuned  unto  her  fame. 
Her  touch  doth  cause  the  warble  of  the  sound, 
Which  here  I  yield  in  lamentable  wise, 
A  wailing  "  descant  "  on  the  sweetest  "  ground," 
Whose  due  reports  give  honour  to  her  eyes. 
Else  harsh  my  style,  untunable  my  Muse; 

Hoarse  sounds  the  voice,  that  praiseth  not  her  name  ! 
If  any  pleasing  relish  here  I  use  ; 
Then  judge,  the  world  !  her  beauty  gives  the  same. 
O  happy  "  ground  "  that  makes  the  music  such  ! 
And  blessed  hand  that  gives  so  sweet  a  touch  ! 


134 


Delia. 


[S.  Daniel. 
L    *     1594 


SONNET     LI  II. 

One  other  fame,  mine  unambitious  Muse 
Affected  ever,  but  t'eternize  Thee  ! 
All  other  honours  do  my  hopes  refuse, 
Which  meaner  prized  and  momentary  be. 
For,  GOD  forbid  !  I  should  my  papers  blot 
With  mercenary  lines,  with  servile  pen ; 
Praising  virtues  in  them  that  have  them  not, 
Basely  attending  on  the  hopes  of  men. 
No  !  no  !    My  Verse  respects  not  Thames,  nor  Theatres  ; 
Nor  seeks  it  to  be  known  unto  the  great  : 
But  Avon,  poor  in  fame,  and  poor  in  waters, 
Shall  have  my  song,  where  Delia  hath  her  seat. 
Avon  shall  be  my  Thames,  and  She  my  Song ; 
I'll  sound  her  name,  the  river  all  along. 


SONNET      LI  V. 

Nhappy  pen!  and  ill  accepted  papers  ! 
That  intimate,  in  vain,  my  chaste  desires : 
j,  M}'  chaste  desires,  the  ever-burning  tapers, 
Enkindled  by  her  eyes'  celestial  fires. 
Celestial  fires  !  and  unrespecting  powers, 

That  deign  not  view  the  glory  of  your  might ! 
In  humble  lines,  the  work  of  careful  hours, 
The  sacrifice  I  offer  to  her  sight. 
But  since  she  scorns  her  own  ;  this  rests  for  me. 
I'll  moan,  myself;  and  hide  the  wrong  I  have 
And  so  content  me,  that  her  frowns  should  be 
To  m'infant  style,  the  cradle  and  the  grave. 
What  though  myself  no  honour  get  thereby; 
Each  birds  sings  to  herself,  and  so  will  I  ! 


S.  Daniel." 
?     I594-- 


D  E  LI  A 


135 


SONNET   L  V. 

JFirsl  printed,  with  verbal  differences,  in  Sonnets  after  Sidney's  Asirephel(\5<)i). 
bee  supra,  vol.  i.  p.  101.] 


0  here,  the  impost  of  a  faith  unfeigning, 
That  love  hath  paid,  and  her  disdain  extorted ! 
Behold  the  message  of  my  just  complaining, 
That    shews   the   world,   how  much  my  grief  im- 
ported ! 
These  tributary  plaints,  fraught  with  desire, 
I  send  those  Eyes,  the  Cabinets  of  Love  ! 
The  Paradise,  whereto  my  hopes  aspire, 
From  out  this  Hell,  which  mine  afflictions  prove. 
Wherein  I  thus  do  live,  cast  down  from  mirth ; 
Pensive,  alone,  none  but  despair  about  me; 
My  joys  abortive,  perished  at  their  birth; 
My  cares  long  lived,  and  will  not  die  without  me. 
This  is  my  state  !  and  Delia's  heart  is  such  ! 
I  say  no  more.     I  fear,  I  said  too  much. 


FINIS. 


M6 


Delia. 


[S.  Daniel 
L    1     1594 


A  n     Ode. 

Ow  EACH  creature  joys  the  other \ 
passing  happy  days  and  hours ; 
One  bird  reports  unto  another, 

in  the  fall  of  silver  showers  ; 
Whilst  the  Earth,  our  common  mother, 
hath  her  bosom  decked  with  flowers  :- 


Whilst  the  greatest  Torch  of  heaven, 
with  bright  rays,  warms  Flora's  lap; 

Making  nights  and  days  both  even, 
cheering  plants  with  fresher  sap  : 

My  field,  of  flowers  quite  bereaven, 
wants  refresh  of  better  hap. 

Echo,  daughter  of  the  Air, 

babbling  guest  of  rocks  and  hills, 

Knows  the  name  of  my  fierce  Fair, 
and  sounds  the  accents  of  my  ills. 

Each  thing  pities  my  despair; 
whilst  that  She,  her  lover  kills. 

Whilst  that  She,  0  cruel  Maid ! 

doth  me  and  my  love  despise  ; 
My  life's  flourish  is  decayed, 

that  depended  on  her  eyes  : 
But  her  will  must  be  obeyed  ; 

and  well,  he  ends  !  for  love,  who  dies. 


FINIS. 


X 


«2xa 


Sonnets 


TO   THE   FAIREST 


C  O  E  L  I  A. 


Parve,  nee  invideo,  sine  me  liber  ibis  ad  Mam, 
Hei  mihi  quod  domino  non  licet  ire  iuo. —  TRJST.  i. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  Adam   1  sl  i p, 

for  W.  P. 

1594. 


<<  ctf 


Sn§f 

>2f  5^ 

U§ 

■*s*&? 

^1? 

>i^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^- 


To    the    Reader. 


Courteous    Reader, 

Hereas  I  zvas  fully  determined  to  have  con- 
cealed my  Sonnets  as  things  privy  to  myself ; 
yet,  of  courtesy,  having  lent  them  to  some, 
they  were  secretly  committed  to  the  Press  and  almost 
finished,  before  it  came  to  my  knowledge. 

Wherefore  making,  as  they  say,  Virtue  of  Necessity, 
I  did  deem  it  most  convenient  to  prepose  my  Epistle,  only 
to  beseech  you  to  account  of  them  as  of  toys  and  amorous 
devices;  and,  ere  long,  1  will  impa?'t  unto  the  World 
another  Poem,  which  shall  be  both  more  fruitful 
and  ponderotis. 

In  the  mean  while,  I  commit  these,  as  a  pledge,  to  your 
indifferent  censures. 

London,  1594. 

W.   PERCY. 


ri' 


W 


^®®®®&®&®®®®®&®®®®®®®®®$® 


140 


Hi 


COELI  A. 


Sll 

SONNET    I. 

Udged  by  my  Goddess'  doom  to  endless  pain ; 
Lo,  here  I  ope  my  Sorrow's  Passion  ! 
That  every  silly  eye  may  view  most  plain 
A  Sentence  given  on  no  occasion. 

If  that,  by  chance,  they  fall  (most  fortunate ! ) 
Within  those  cruel  hands  that  did  enact  it ; 
Say  but  "  Alas,  he  was  too  Passionate  !  " 
My  doom  is  passed,  nor  can  be  now  unactit." 
So  mayst  Thou  see  I  was  a  spotless  lover  ! 
And  grieve  withal  that,  ere,  thou  dealt  so  sore  ! 
Unto  remorse,  who  goes  about  to  move  her, 
Pursues  the  winged  winds,  and  tills  the  shore  ! 

Lovely  is  her  Semblance,  hard  is  her  Heart  ; 

Wavering  is  her  Mind,  sure  is  her  Dart  1 


142  Cat  li  a.  [w-p;; 

SONNET    II. 

Happy  hour,  and  yet  unhappy  hour  ! 
When  first  by  chance  I  had  my  Goddess  viewed  ; 
Then  first  I  tasted  of  the  sweetest  sour 
Wherewith  the  cup  of  Cypria  is  embrued. 
For  gazing  firm  without  suspicion, 
Love,  cooped  behind  the  chariot  of  her  eye, 
Justly  to  school  my  bold  presumption, 
Against  my  heart  did  let  an  arrow  fly. 

"  Fair  Sir,"  quoth  he,  "  to  practise  have  you  nought 
But  to  be  gazing  on  Divinity  ? 
Before  you  part,  your  leare  you  shall  be  taught !  " 
With  that,  at  once,  he  made  his  arrows  hie. 
"  Imperious  God  !   I  did  it  not  to  love  her! 
Ah,  stay  thy  hand  !  I  did  it  but  to  prove  her !  " 


cy 

59+ 


SON  N  E  T   I  XI. 

Rove  her  !     Ah,  no  !  I  did  it  but  to  love  her  ! 
Then  shoot  amain,  dread  Liege!    I  stand  unarmed. 
Although  no  hope  that  anything  may  move  her ; 
Some  ease  it  is,  to  be  by  beauty  charmed. 
Then  quick,  my  Liege!  then  quick,  and  end  thy  game! 
That  all  the  World  may  see  how  thou  hast  plagued  us  ; 
Then  cruel  She  shall  view,  unto  her  blame, 
That  "all  men  be  not  fickle,"  as  they've  termed  us, 

May  be,  my  words  may  win  contrition  ! 
If  not  my  words,  my  sobs  !  if  not  my  sobs, 
My  tears  may  move  her  to  compassion  ! 
If  tears  do  fail,  my  tears,  my  words,  my  throbs : 
Ay  me  !  ah  no  !  tears,  words,  throbs,  all  in  vain  ! 
She  scorns  my  dole,  and  smileth  at  my  pain ! 


C  (E  L  I  A  . 


M3 


SONNET    IV. 

Heavenly  Ccelia,  as  fair  as  virtuous! 
The  only  Mirror  of  true  Chastity  ! 
Have  I  been  'gainst  thy  godhead  impious, 
That  thus  am  guerdoned  for  my  fealty  ? 

Have  I  not  shed  upon  thine  iv'ry  shrine 
Huge  drops  of  tears  with  large  eruptions? 
Have  I  not  offered,  Evening,  and  at  Prime, 
My  sighs,  my  Psalms  of  invocations  ? 

"  What  be  men's  sighs  but  cauls  of  guilefulness  ?  " 
"  They  shew,  dear  Love  !  true  proofs  of  firmity  !  " 
"  What  be  your  tears  but  mere  ungraciousness?  " 
"Tears  only  plead  for  our  simplicity  !  " 

When  all  strike  mute,  She  says  "  It  is  my  duty  !  " 

And  claims  as  much  as  to  her  deity. 


SONNET    V, 

Air  Queen  of  Cnidos  !  come,  adorn  my  forehead  ! 
And  crown  me  with  the  laurel,  Emperor ! 
16,  thrice  sing  16  about  thy  poet ! 
Lo,  on  my  goddess,  I  am  conqueror ! 

For  once,  by  chance,  not  sure  or  wittingly, 
Upon  my  foot,  her  tender  foot  alighted, 
With  that,  she  plucked  it  off  full  nimbly 
As  though  the  very  touch  had  her  affrighted. 

Dear  Mistress !  will  you  deal  so  cruelly, 
To  'prive  me  of  so  small  a  benefit  ? 
What !  do  you  jerk  it  off  so  nimbly 
As  though,  in  very  sooth,  a  snake  had  bit  it ! 

Yea,  bit  perhaps  indeed  !   Ho,  Muses,  blab  you  ! 

Not  a  word,  Pieannets  !  or  I  will  gag  you  ! 


144 


C  <E  L  1  A  . 


W.  Percy. 
1594. 


SONNET    VI. 

Ood  God  !  how  senseless  be  we  paramours, 
So  proudly  on  a  Nothing  for  to  vaunt  it ! 
We  cannot  reap  the  meanest  of  all  favours, 
But,  by-and-by,  we  think  our  suit  is  grantit ! 

Had  ye  observed  two  Planets  which  then  mounted. 
Two  certain  signs  of  indignation  ; 
Ye  would  have  deemed  rather  both  consented 
To  turn  all  hopes  to  desperation. 

Then  can  you  waver  so  inconstantly 
To  shew  first  Love,  and  then  Disdainfulness  ? 
First  for  to  bring  a  dram  of  courtesy, 
Then  mix  it  with  an  ounce  of  scornfulness? 

No,  no,  the  doubt  is  answered  !  Certainly, 

She  trod  by  chance ;  She  trod  not  wittingly  ! 


SONNET    VII. 

F  it  be  sin,  so  dearly  for  to  love  thee ; 
Come  bind  my  hands  !   I  am  thy  prisoner ! 
If  yet  a  spark  of  pity  may  but  move  thee, 
First  sit,  upon  the  cause,  Commissioner  ! 

The  same,  well  heard,  may  wrest  incontinent, 
Two  floods  from  forth  those  rocks  of  adamant  ; 
Which  streaming  down  with  force  impatient 
May  melt  the  breast  of  my  fierce  Rhadamant. 

Dearest  Cruel,  the  cause,  I  see  dislikes  thee  ! 
On  us  thy  brows  thou  bends  so  direfully  ! 
Enjoin  me  penance  whatsoever  likes  thee ; 
Whate'er  it  be,  I'll  take  it  thankfully  ! 

Yet  since,  for  love  it  is,  I  am  thy  Bondman  ; 

Good  Ccelia,  use  me  like  a  Gentleman ! 


\V.  Percy."] 
I594-J 


C  (E 


L  I  A 


145 


SONNET    VIII. 

Trtke  up,  my  Lute !  and  ease  my  heavy  cares, 
The  only  solace  to  my  Passions  : 
Impart  unto  the  airs,  thy  pleasing  airs  ! 
More  sweet  than  heavenly  consolations. 

Rehearse  the  songs  of  forlorn  amor'us 
Driven  to  despair  by  dames  tyrannical ! 
Of  Alpheus'  loss,  of  woes  of  Troilus, 
Of  Rowland's  rage,  of  Iphis'  funeral ! 

Ay  me  !  what  warbles  yields  mine  instrument ! 
The  Basses  shriek  as  though  they  were  amiss  ! 
The  Means,  no  means,  too  sad  the  merriment ' 
No,  no !  the  music  good,  but  thus  it  is 

I  loath  both  Means,  merriment,  Diapasons ; 

So  She  and  I  may  be  but  Unisons. 


SONNET    IX. 

Hilst  others  ween  sole  hopes  to  be  a  sa[l]ve, 
Sole  hopes  I  find  to  be  my  corrosive  ! 
Whilst  others  found  in  hopes,  an  harbour  have ; 
From  hopes,  I  feel  a  sea  of  sorrows  rise  ! 

For  when  mild  hopes  should  ease  my  raging  fires, 
They  fester  more,  in  that  they  are  but  hopes; 
Then  whilst  I  touch  the  foot  of  my  Desires, 
A  storm  of  hate  doth  burst  mine  anchor  ropes. 

Were  I  but  once  resolved  certainly, 
Soon  should  I  know  which  point  my  helm  to  steer ; 
But  She  denies  my  suit  most  womanly, 
As  hidden  documents  for  us  to  hear. 

Lo,  this  the  cause  my  hell  forsakes  me  never. 

"Tell  me,"  dear  Sweet,  "thus  shall  I  live  for  ever?" 


i46  Cm  li  a.  Lwr^'. 

SONNET    X. 

1T  A   Mystery. 

[Cf.  Barnes's  Parthcnefhil,  vol.  i.  p.  200  sn/ra.] 

j|0  win  the  Fort,  how  oft  have  I  assayed ! 
Wherein  the  heart  of  my  fair  Mistress  lies. 
What  rams,  what  mines,  what  plots  have  I  not  laid! 
Yet  still  am  frighted  from  mine  enterprise. 

First  from  the  leads  of  that  proud  citadel 
Do  foulder  forth  two  fiery  Culverins, 
Under,  two  red  coats  keep  the  Larum  Bell 
For  fear  of  close  or  open  venturings ; 

Before  the  gates,  Scorn,  Fear,  and  Modesty 
Do  toss  amain  their  pikes ;  but  'bove  them  all 
Pudicity  wields  her  staff  most  manfully, 
Guarded  with  blocks,  that  keep  me  from  the  wall. 

Yet  if  this  staff  will  ford  me  clear  the  way  ; 

In  spite  of  all,  I'll  bear  my  Dame  away  ! 

5  0  N  NET    XI. 

To  POLYXENA. 

F  all  the  women  which  of  yore  have  been, 
Alcest  for  virtue  may  be  glorified  ; 
For  courage,  Teuce;  for  features,  Sparta's  Queen; 
For  all  in  one,  Polyxen  deified. 

If  true  it  be,  by  old  philosophy, 
These  souls  to  have,  since  destin,  entered 
To  other  bodies  of  like  sympathy  ; 
Thou  art  the  last  of  these  metampsychosed  ! 

Thy  courage  wondrous  !  thy  virtues  peerless  ! 
Thy  features  have  the  fairest  ladies  blamed  ! 
Then  (if  thou  scorn'st  not  such  a  Monarchess) 
Henceforth,  by  reason  good,  thou  shalt  be  named, 

Nor  Teuce,  nor  Alcest,  nor  fair  Helena  ; 

Thou  shalt  be  named  my  dear  Polyxena  ! 


S3  Col  li  a.  147 

SONNET    XII. 

QElia,  of  all  sweet  courtesies  resolve  me  ! 
For  wished  grace,  how  must  I  now  be  doing  ? 
Since  Ops,  the  completest  frame  which  did  absolve 

thee, 
Hath  made  each  parcel  to  my  sole  undoing ! 

Those  wires  which  should  thy  corps  to  mine  unite, 
Be  rays  to  daze  us  from  so  near  approach. 
Thine  eyne,  which  should  my  'nighted  sailors  light, 
Be  shot  to  keep  them  off  with  foul  reproach. 

Those  ruddy  plums  embrued  with  heavenly  foods, 
When  I  would  suck  them,  turn  to  driest  coral ; 
And  when  I  couch  between  her  lily  buds, 
They  surge,  like  frothy  water  mounts  above  all. 

Surely,  they  were  all  made  unto  good  uses ; 

But  She,  them  all  untowardly  abuses. 


SONNET    XIII. 

Tth  grievous  thoughts  and  weighty  care  opprest, 
One  day,  I  went  to  Venus's  Fanacle; 
Of  Cyprian  dreams,  which  did  me  sore  molest, 
To  be  resolved  by  certain  Oracle. 

No  sooner  was  I  past  the  temple's  gate, 
But  from  the  shrine,  where  Venus  wont  to  stand, 
I  saw  a  Lady  fair  and  delicate 
Did  beckon  to  me  with  her  ivory  hand. 

Weening  She  was  the  Goddess  of  the  Fane, 
With  cheerful  looks  I  towards  bent  my  pace  : 
Soon  when  I  came,  I  found  unto  my  bane, 
A  Gorgon  shadowed  under  Venus'  face  ; 

Whereat  affright,  when  back  I  would  be  gone. 

I  stood  transformed  to  a  speechless  stone. 


148 


C  (E  L  I  A 


rw. 


Percy. 
1594- 


SONNET    XIV. 

Hen  once  I  saw  that  no  intreats  would  move  her; 
All  means  I  sought  to  be  delivered : 
Against  white  Cupid  and  his  golden  Mother, 
In  high  contempt,  base  words  I  uttered  : 
When  both,  from  clouds  of  her  bright  firmament, 
With  heavy  griefs  and  strong  disdain  surmounted, 
Upon  my  thoughts  and  me,  did  shoot  revengement, 
Whilst  in  our  highest  prides  we  were  amounted. 

Nor  be  they  pleased  to  give  us  all  these  wounds, 
To  make  me  languish  as  a  dying  liver  : 
But  from  her  orbs  they  fling  their  firebrands. 
Thereby  to  quite  consume  both  heart  and  liver. 
Pardon,  dread  Powers  !  pardon  my  rash  offence  ! 
By  Heaven's  bright  vail!  'twas 'gainst  my  conscience 


SONNET   X  V. 
Echo. 

[For  similar  '  Echo '  poems,  cf.  vol.  i.  pp.  220-1,  272-6,  and  301  supra,  and  vol.  ii.  337  in  fro.  ] 

Hat  is  the   Fair,  to  whom  so  long 

I  plead  ?  Lead. 

Ii   What  is  her  face,  so  angel-like  ?  Angel-like. 

Then  unto  Saints  in  mind,  Sh'is  not  unlike  ?  Unlike. 

What  may  be  hoped  of  one  so  evil  nat'red  ?  Hatred. 

O  then  my  woes  how  shall  I  ope  best  ?  Hope  best ! 

Then  She  is  flexible  ?  She  is  flexible. 

Fie,  no,  it  is  impossible !  Possible. 

About  her  straight  then  only  our  best  !  You're  best ! 

How  must  I  first  her  loves  to  me  approve  ?  Prove/ 

How  if  She  say  I  may  not  kiss  her?  Kiss  her ! 

For  all  her  bobs  I  must  them  bear,  or  miss  her?  Yes,  sir  ! 

Then  will  She  yield  at  length  to  Love  ?  To  love  ! 

Even  so  !  Even  so  !    By  Narcisse  !  is  it  true  ?  True  ! 

Of  thine  honesty  ?  I!    Adieu!  Adieu! 


W-P^j  Col  li  a. 


SONNET    XVI. 


149 


fHAT  may  be  thought  of  thine  untowardness, 
That  movest  still  at  every  motion  ? 
What  may  be  hoped  of  so  strange  uncouthness, 
That  scorns  all  vows,  scorns  all  devotion  ? 
If  I  but  sue,  thou  wouldst  relieve  mine  anguish, 
Two  threatening  arcs  thou  bendest  rigorously ! 
Then  if  I  swear  thy  love  did  make  me  languish, 
Thou  turn'st  away,  and  smilest  scornfully  ! 

Then  if  I  wish  thou  would'st  not  tyrannize  ; 
Of  Tyranny  thou  mak'st  but  a  mockery  ! 
And  if  I  weep,  my  tears  thou  dost  despise  ! 
And  if  I  stir,  thou  threatenest  battery  ! 

Frown  on  !  smile  on  !  mock  me  !  despise  me  !  threat  me  ! 
All  shall  not  make  me  leave  for  to  intreat  thee ! 


SONNET    XVII. 

Elent,  my  dear,  yet  unkind  Ccelia  ! 
At  length,  relent,  and  give  my  sorrows  end  ! 
So  shall  I  keep  my  long-wished  holiday, 
And  set  a  trophy  on  a  froward  friend  ! 

Nor  tributes,  nor  imposts,  nor  other  duties 
Demand  I  will,  as  lawful  Conqueror ! 
Duties,  tributes,  imposts  unto  thy  beauties, 
Myself  will  pay  as  yielded  Servitor  ! 

Then  quick  relent !  thyself  surrender  us  ! 
"Brave  Sir,  and  why,"  quoth  She,  "must  I  relent  ' 
"  Relent,"  cried  I,  "  thyself  doth  conquer  us  !  " 
When  eftsoons  with  my  proper  instrument 

She  cut  me  off,  ay  me  !  and  answered, 

"You  cannot  conquer,  and  be  conquered." 


ISO 


C  (E  L  I  A 


[*• 


Percy 

'594 


SONNET    X  V  III. 

Cannot  conquer  and  be  conquered  !  " 
Then  whole  myself  I  yield  unto  thy  favour ! 
Behold  my  thoughts  float  in  an  ocean,  battered  ; 
To  be  cast  off,  or  wafted  to  thine  harbour ! 
If  of  the  fame,  thou  wilt  then  take  acceptance, 
Stretch  out  thy  fairest  hand,  as  flag  of  peace  ! 
If  not,  no  longer  keep  us  in  attendance  ; 
But  all  at  once  thy  fiery  shafts  release  ! 
If  thus  I  die,  an  honest  cause  of  love 
Will  of  my  fates  the  rigour  mitigate  ; 
Those  gracious  ey'n,  which  will  a  Tartar  move, 
Will  prove  my  case  the  less  unfortunate. 

Although  my  friends  may  rue  my  chance  for  aye, 
It  will  be  said,  "  He  died  for  Ccelia  !  " 


SONNET    XIX. 

T  shall  be  said  I  died  for  Ccelia  ! 
Then  quick,  thou  grisly  man  of  Erebus, 
Transport  me  hence  unto  Proserpina, 
To  be  adjudged  as  "  wilful  amorous." 
To  be  hung  up  within  the  liquid  air ! 
For  all  the  sighs  which  I  in  vain  have  wasted  : 
To  be  through  Lethe's  waters  cleansed  fair  ! 
For  those  dark  clouds  which  have  my  looks  o'ercasted 

To  be  condemned  to  everlasting  fire  ! 
Because  at  Cupid's  fire,  I  wilful  brent  me, 
And  to  be  clad  for  deadly  dumps  in  mire. 
Among  so  many  plagues  which  shall  torment  me, 
One  solace  I  shall  find,  when  I  am  over; 
It  will  be  known  I  died  a  constant  lover ! 


\V.  Percy."] 
•594-J 


C  <E  L  I  A  , 


15' 


SONNET    XX. 

Eceive  these  writs,  n:y  sweet  and  dearest  Friend ! 
The  lively  patterns  of  my  lifeless  body  ; 
Where  thou  sh alt  find  in  ebon  pictures  penned, 
How  I  was  meek,  but  thou  extremely  bloody ! 

Fll  walk  forlorn  along  the  willow  shades, 
A  lone,  complaining  of  a  ruthless  Dame  : 
Where'er  I  pass,  the  rocks,  the  hills,  the  glades, 
In  piteous  yells  shall  sound  her  cruel  name ! 

There  will  I  wail  the  lot  that  Fortune  sent  me, 
And  make  my  moans  unto  the  savage  ears ! 
The  remnant  of  the  days  which  Nature  lent  me  ; 
I'll  spend  them  all,  concealed,  in  ceaseless  tears  ! 

Since  unkind  Fates  permit  me  not  t' enjoy  her  ; 

No  more,  burst  eyes  !  I  mean  for  to  annoy  her  ! 

FINIS. 


To    Parthenopiiil! 
Upon  his  L  a  y  a  and  Parthenopiie. 

[i.e.  inscribed  to  Barnabe  Barnes,  for  whose  poetical  collection,  Parthenethil  nnii  Par!heitc(!.' 

see  vol.  i.  p.  165  seq.  supra.     The  reference  at  line  9  below  seems  to  be  to  Barnes's 

Sestines,  see  vol.  i.  pp.  309-12.] 

MA  D  R  I  G  A  L. 

Hen  first  I  heard  thy  loves  to  Lay  A, 
I  wished  the  gods  to  turn  it  to  good  hap  ! 
Yet  since  I  hear  thy  blessed  flight  away, 
I  joy  thy  chance,  for  fear  of  afterclap  ! 

Unwily  man !  why  cotddst  not  keep  thee  there  ? 
But  must  with  Parthenoph',  thee  'gain  entrap  ! 
I  little  rue  thy  well  deserved  tears ! 
The  beast  once  'scaped  will  ever  shun  the  trap  I 
What  tell' st  thou  me,  "By  spells,  th'  hast  won  thy  Dear  /" 
Believe  her,  Friend  I  no  more  than  Lava  past  ! 
Charmed  Love  endures  but  zchilst  the  Charm  doth  last 


ZEP  HERI A 


O  or 7i  i  di  viene  la  sera, 


Mysus  et  Hcemonia  juvenis  qui  cus 

tide  vulnus  senserat,  hac  ipsa 

cuspide  sen  sit  opem. 


AT    LONDON: 

Printed  by  the  Widow  Or  win,  for  N.   L.  and 
John   Bush  y. 

1594. 


155 


;*w^ 


Alii  veri  figlioli  delle  Muse. 

E  modern  Laureates,  famoused  for  your  writ, 
Who  for  your  pregnanes  may  in  Delos  dwell ! 
On  your  sweet  lines,  Eternity  doth  sit ; 
Their  brows  ennobling  with  applause  and  laurel! 
Triumph  and  Honour  aye  invest  your  writ  ! 
Ye  fet[ch]  your  pens  from  wing  of  singing  swan, 
When  (sweetly  warbling  to  herself)  she  floats 
A  down  Meander  streams  ;  and  like  to  organ, 
Imparts,  into  her  quills,  melodious  notes ! 

Ye,  from  the  Father  of  delicious  phrases, 
Borrow  such  Hymns  as  make  your  Mistress  live 
When  Time  is  dead  !     Nay,  HERMES  tunes  the  praises 
Which  ye,  in  Sonnets,  to  your  Mistress  give! 

Report,  throughout  our  Western  Isle  doth  ring, 
The  sweet  tuned  accents  of  your  Delian  sonnetry, 
Which  to  Apollo's  violin,  ye  sing  ! 
0,  then,  your  high  strains  drown  his  melody  ) 
From  forth  dead  sleep  of  everlasting  dark  ; 
Fame,  with  her  trump's  shrill  summon,  hath  awaked 
The  Roman  Naso,  and  the  Tuscan  Petrarch, 
Your  spirit-ravishing  lines  to  wonder  at  I 
0  theme  befitting  high-Mused  ASTROPHIL  ! 


156 


Z  E  P  II  E  R  1  A  . 


[ 


He,  to  your  silvery  Songs,  lent  siveelcst  touch  ! 
Your  Songs,  the  immortal  spirit  of  your  quill ! 
O,  pardon  I  for  my  artless  pen  too  much 
Doth  dim  your  glories,  through  his  infant  skill. 
Though  may  I  not,  with  you,  the  spoils  divide 
(Ye  sacred  Offspring  of  Mnemosyne  !) 
Of  endless  praise,  which  have  your  pens  achieved 
(Your  pens  the  Trumps  to  Immortality  !)  ; 
Yet  be  it  lawful,  that  like  maims  I  bide  ! 
Like  brunts  and  scars,  in  your  Love's  warfare  ! 
And  here,  though  in  my  homespun  Verse,  of  them  declare! 


157 


^£ 


ZEPHERIA. 


CANZON    i  . 

Ulled  in    a   heavenly   Charm  of  pleasing 
Passions  ; 
Many  their  well-thewed  rhymes  do  fair 
attemper 
Unto  their  Amours  !  while  another  fashions 
Love  to  his  lines,  and  he  on  Fame  doth 
venture ! 
And  some  again,  in  mercenary  writ, 

Belch  forth  Desire,  making  Reward  their  mistress  ! 
And  though  it  chance  some  Lais  patron  it, 

At  least,  they  sell  her  praises  to  the  press  ! 
The  Muses'  Nurse,  I  read,  is  Eupiiemie; 

And  who  but  Honour  makes  his  lines'  reward, 
Comes  not,  by  my  consent,  within  my  pedigree  ! 

'Mongst  true-born  sons,  inherit  may  no  bastard  ! 
All  in  the  humble  accent  of  my  Muse ; 

Whose  wing  may  not  aspire  the  pitch  of  Fame, 
My  griefs  I  here  untomb  !     Sweet  !  them  peruse  ! 

Though  low  he  fly,  yet  Honour  is  his  game, 
All  while  my  pen  quests  on  Zepheria's  name  : 
Whom,  when  it  sprung  thy  wing,  did  thee  relieve  ; 
Now  flown  to  mark,  thus  doth  Desire  thee  retrieve  ! 


158  Z  /■:  P  11  E  R  I  A.  [  ,  r,5,, 

CANZON    2. 

Hough  be  thou  limned  in  these  discoloured  lines, 
(Delicious  Model  of  my  spirit's  portrait  ! ) 
Though  be  thou  sable  pencilled,  these  designs 
Shadow  not  beauty,  but  a  sorrow's  extract ! 
When  I  emprised,  though  in  my  love's  affections, 
The  silver  lustre  of  thy  brow  to  unmask  ! 
Though  hath  my  Muse  hyperbolised  trajections  ; 
Yet  stands  it,  aye,  deficient  to  such  task. 

My  slubb'ring  pencil  casts  too  gross  a  matter, 
Thy  beauty's  pure  divinity  to  blaze  ! 
For  when  my  smoothed  tongue  hath  sought  to  flatter, 
Thy  Worth  hath  dearthed  his  words,  for  thy  true  praise  ! 
Then  though  my  pencil  glance  here  on  thine  eyes  ; 
Sweet  !  think  thy  Fair,  it  doth  but  portionise  ! 


C  AN  Z  O  N    3. 

Hen,  from  the  tower  whence  I  derive  love's  heaven, 
Mine  eyes  (quick  pursuivants!)  the  sight  attached 
Of  Thee,  all  splendent !  I,  as  out  of  sweaven, 
Myself  'gan  rouse,  like  one  from  sleep  awaked. 
Coveting  eyes  controlled  my  slowly  gait, 
And  wood  Desire  to  wing  my  feet  for  flight ; 
Yet  unresolved,  Fear  did  with  eyes  debate, 
And  said,  "  'Twas  but  tra[ns]lucence  of  the  light ! " 

But  when  approached,  where  Thou  thy  stand  didst  take  ! 
At  gaze,  I  stood ;  like  deer,  when  'ghast,  he  spies 
Some  white  in  thick  !     Ah,  then,  the  arrow  strake 
Through  mine  heart !  sent  from  thy  tiller  eyes. 

Dead  in  thine  aim,  Thou  seized  what  'longed  to  thee  ! 
Mine  heart,  Zepheria  !   then,  became  thy  fee! 


? 

!    I594-. 


Z  E  P  H  E  R  I  A  . 


159 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    4. 

Then,  Desire  !     Father  of  Jouissance  ! 
The  Life  of  Love !  the  Death  of  dastard  Fear ! 
The  Kindest  Nurse  to  true  perseverance ! 
Mine  heart  inherited,  with  thy  love's  revere. 

Beauty  !  peculiar  Parent  of  Conceit ! 
Prosperous  Midwife  to  a  travelling  Muse  ! 
The  Sweet  of  life  !     Nepenthe's  eyes  receipt ! 
Thee  into  me  distilled,  O  Sweet,  infuse  ! 

Love  then  (the  spirit  of  a  generous  sprite  ! 
An  infant  ever  drawing  Nature's  breast  ! 
The  Sum  of  Life,  that  Chaos  did  unnight !) 
Dismissed  mine  heart  from  me,  with  thee  to  rest. 

And  now  incites  me  cry,  "  Double  !  or  quit ! 

Give  back  my  heart,  or  take  his  body  to  it ! " 


C  AN  Z 0  N    5 . 

Non,  Fear  (Sentinel  of  sad  Discretion  ! 
Strangling  Repentance  in  his  cradle  age ! 
Care's  Usher  !  Tenant  to  his  own  Oppression  !) 
Forced  my  thoughts'  quest  upon  an  idle  rage. 

Enraged  Passion  (Scout  to  Love  untrue  !) 
Commenting  glosses  on  each  smile  and  frown, 
Christening  the  heavens  and  Erebus  anew, 
(Intolerable  yoke  to  Love  and  Reason  ! 

Footstool  to  all  affects!  Beauty's  sour  handmaid 
The  heart's  hermaphrodite,  passive  in  action  !) 
Hope  now  serenes  his  brow,  anon  dismayed, 
A  pleasing  death,  a  life  in  pleased  distraction. 

Thou  on  thy  Mother,  Fear!  begot  Despair; 

To  whom,  my  Fate  conveys  me  son  and  heir. 


I  60  Z  E  P  H  E  R  I  A  .  [    1  ?I594 

C  A  N  Z  O  N    6. 

Y  fate  !     O  not  my  fault !  hath  me  debarred 
From  forth  thy  favour's  sunny  sanctuary, 
Unto  the  dear  applause  of  thy  regard, 
Witness  the  world  !  how  I,  my  guest  did  marry  ! 

My  tears,  my  sighs  ;  all  have  I  summed  in  thee  ! 
Conceit  the  total  !  do  not  partialise  ! 
And  then  accept  of  their  infinity 
As  part  of  payment  to  exacting  eyes  ! 

And  yet  thy  Trophy  to  ennoble  more, 
My  heart  prepares  anew  to  thesaurise 
Sighs  and  love  options  such  as  it  sent  of  yore, 
Save  number  they  !  faith  only  these  englories  ! 

Yet  though  I  thus  enwealthy  thy  exchequer ; 

Seem  it  not  strange,  I  live  Zepheria's  debtor  ! 


C ANZO  N    7. 

Ore  fair,  but  yet  more  cruel  I  thee  deem 
(Though  by  how  much  the  more  thou  beauteous  art, 
So  much  of  pity  shouldst  thou  more  esteem  !) ; 
Fairer  than  Phcebe,  yet  a  harder  heart. 

Her  when  Actceon  viewed  with  privy  eye, 
She  doomed  him  but  a  death  (a  death  he  owed  !), 
While  he  pursued,  before  his  dogs  did  fly. 
Here  was  the  worst  of  ill  (good  Queen  !)  she  shewed. 

But  when,  a  start,  mine  eye  had  thee  espied 
Though  at  discovert,  vet  stand  I  sentenced 
Not  to  one  death,  to  which  I  would  have  hied : 
For  since,  unarmed,  and  to  eye  unfenced, 
Thy  PncEBE-fairer  parts  were  mine  eyes'  prospective. 

O  grief !  unto  myself,  disgraced  I  live  ! 


■     1 

f    »594j 


Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 

C  A  N  Z  O  N    8. 


I6i 


Lluminating  Lamps  !     Ye  Orbs  chrystallite  ! 
Transparent  mirrolds  !     Globes  divining  beauty  ! 
How  have  I  joyed  to  wanton  in  your  light  ? 
Though  was  I  slain  by  your  artillery  ! 
Ye  blithsome  Stars  !  like  Leda's  lovely  twins 
(When  clear  they  twinkle  in  the  firmament), 
Promise  esperance  to  the  seamen's  wand'rings  : 
So  have  your  shine  made  ripe  mine  heart's  content. 

Or  as  the  light,  which  Sestyan  Hero  showed, 
Arm-finned  Leander  to  direct  in  waves, 
When  through  the  raging  Hellespont  he  rowed, 
Steering  to  Love's  Port :  so,  by  thine  eyes'  clear  rays, 
Blest  were  my  waves !     But  since  no  light  was  found, 
Thy  poor  Leander  in  the  deep  is  drowned  ! 


C  AN  Z  O  N    9. 

Hen  as  the  Golden  Waggoner  had  frayed 
Black  Winter's  outrage,  with  his  brighter  shine ; 
And  that  in  Mansion  of  the  Twins  he  styed, 
His  team  ;  then  'gan  my  heart  to  twine  with  thine  i 
Even  when  his  gorgeous  mantle  he  had  spread, 
Wherewith  he  wiped  wept-tears  from  Tellus'  bosom  ; 
Wantoning  here  with  her,  leaves  Thetis'  bed, 
Like  dainty  midwife  Flora,  to  unwomb 

Sweet  babes  of  Tellus  and  Hyperion,  [(sic), 

When  ye  full  soomed  in  Winter's  mew  doon  mooting, 
O  then,  the  seeds  of  Love,  by  thine  eyes  sown, 
Down  through  mine  eyes,  within  mine  heart  took  rooting. 
This  difference  left  'twixt  me  and  Nature's  store ; 
Her  Spring  returns  !     My  flower  may  spread  no  more  ! 
II.  l  9 


I  6  2  Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 


?    1594 


C  AN  Z  O  N   10. 

5=p^g=||Ow  made  I,  then,  attempt  in  courtly  fashion, 
To  gain  the  virgin  conquest  of  thy  love  ? 
How  did  my  sighs  decipher  inward  Passion, 
When  they  to  kind  regard  thy  heart  did  move  ? 
When  thou  vouchsaf'st  to  grace  the  evening  air, 
How  have  I  lain  in  ambush  to  betray  thee  ? 
Our  eyes  have  skirmished  !  but  my  tongue  would  pray  thee 
To  join  thy  Pity  partner  with  thy  Fair  ! 

Since  that,  how  often  have  they  sent  wept  Elegies 
To  beg  remorse  at  thy  obdurate  heart  ! 
How  often  hath  my  Muse  in  comic  poesies, 
To  feed  thy  humour,  played  a  comic  part ! 

But,  now,  the  Pastime  of  my  pen  is  silenced  1 
To  act  in  Tragic  Vein,  alone  is  licensed. 

CANZON    n. 


Ow  wert  thou  pleased  with  my  Pastoral  Ode ! 
Which  late  I  sent  thee;  wherein  I,  thy  Swain, 
In  rural  tune,  on  pipe  did  chaunt  abroad 
Thee,  for  the  loveliest  Lass  that  traced  the  plain. 
There,  on  thy  head,  I,  Flora's  Chaplet  placed ! 
There,  did  my  pipe  proclaim  thee,  Summer's  Queen  ! 
Each  herdgroom,  with  that  honour  held  thee  graced  ! 
When  lawny  white  did  chequer  with  thy  green. 

There,  did  I  bargain  all  my  kids  to  thee  ! 
My  spotted  lambkins,  choicest  of  my  fold  ! 
So  thou  would'st  sit  and  keep  thy  flock  by  me: 
So  much  I  joyed,  thy  beauty  to  behold. 

How  many  Cantons  then,  sent  I  to  thee  ! 
Who,  though  on  two  strings  only  raised  their  strain, 
To  wit,  my  Grief,  and  thy  unmatched  Beauty; 
Yet  well  their  harmony  could  please  thy  vein  ! 

Well  could  they  please  thee,  and  thou  term  them  witty ; 
But  now  as  fortunes  change,  so  change  my  Ditty  ! 


f  \594J  Z  E  P  II  E  R  1  A.  163 

C  AN  ZO  N    12. 


Ow  often  have  mine  eyes  (thine  eye's  apprentice 
Bound  by  the  Earnest  of  a  sunny  look), 
Ta'en  a  judicial  view  of  all  thy  graces  ! 
Which  here  are  registered  in  lasting  book. 
How  oft  have  I,  thy  precious  chain  been  fingering, 
That  ninefold  circles  thy  delicious  neck  ! 
While  they,  the  orb-like  spheres  of  heaven  resembling, 
Thy  face  the  Globe  !  which  men  clep  Emperick. 

How  oft  with  wanton  touches  have  I  prest 
Those  breasts,  more  soft  than  silver  down  of  swans ; 
When  they  by  Alcidelian  springs  do  rest  ! 
Of  which  pure  substance  are  thy  lily  hands. 

But  now,  though  eyes  ne  see,  nor  arms  embrace  thee ; 
Who  yet  shall  let,  in  thought,  me  chief  to  place  thee  ? 


C  ANZO  N    13. 

fRoUD  in  thy  love,  how  many  have  I  cited, 
Impartial,  thee  to  view  !  whose  eyes  have  lavished 
Sweet  beauteous  objects  oft  have  men  delighted, 
But  thou,  above  delight,  their  sense  hast  ravished  .' 
They,  amorous  artists,  Thee  pronounced  Love's  Queen  ! 
And  unto  thy  supremacy  did  swear, 
"  Venus,  at  Paphos  keep  !  no  more  be  seen  !  " 
Now  Cupid,  after  Thee,  his  shafts  shall  bear ! 

How  have  I  spent  my  spirit  of  Invention 
In  penning  amorous  stanzas  to  thy  beauty  ? 
But  heavenly  graces  may  not  brook  dimension ; 
No  more  may  thine  !  for  infinite  they  be. 
But  now,  in  harsh  tune,  I,  of  amours  sing, 
My  pipe  for  them,  grows  hoarse  !  but  shrill,  to  plainin    ! 


164 


Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 


[.V. 


C AN  ZO  N     14. 

Hough  like  an  exile  from  mine  eyes  divorced 
In  solitary  dungeon  of  Refuse 
I  live,  impatient  that  I  live,  perforced, 
From  thee,  dear  object  of  mine  eyes,  a  recluse. 
Yet  that  divine  Idea  of  thy  grace, 
The  life  imagery  of  thy  love's  sweet  souvenance, 
Within  mine  heart  shall  reign  in  sovereign  place  ; 
Nay,  shall  it  ever  portray  other  semblance  ? 

No  !  never  shall  that  face,  so  fair  depainted 
Within  the  love-limned  tablet  of  mine  heart, 
Emblemished  be  !    defaced  !  or  unsainted  ! 
Till  death  shall  blot  it,  with  his  pencil  dart. 
Yet,  then,  in  these  limned  lines  ennobled  more, 
Thou  shalt  survive,  richer  accomplished  than  before  ! 


C  AN  ZO  N     15. 

E'er  were  the  silvery  wings  of  my  Desire 
Tainted  with  thought  of  black  impurity ! 
The  modest  blush  that  did  my  cheeks  attire, 
Was  to  thy  virgin  fears,  statute  security  ! 
When  to  a  favour's  sweet  promotion 
My  joyless  thoughts,  thou  hast  advanced  higher ! 

0  then  sigh's  sacrifice  of  my  love's  devotion 

1  sent,  repurified  in  holy  fire  ! 

My  fears,  how  oft  have  I  ingeminated  ! 
(0  black  recite  of  passed  misery !) 
Thy  heart  for  to  entender  !  they  have  intimated 
(Besides  what  thou  hast  seen  !)  what  I  have  suffered  for  thee 
But  see  !  since  eyes  were  aliens  to  thy  beauty, 
I  sing  mine  own  faith,  and  neglect  love's  duty! 


Zepheria. 


165 


C A  N  ZO  N    16. 


[Ow  have  I  forfeited  thy  kind  regard, 
That  thy  disdain  should  thus  enage  thy  brow  ! 
Which,  whilom,  was  the  scripture  and  the  card 
Whereon  thou  made  thy  game,  and  sealed  thy  vow 
Which,  whilom,  thou,  with  laurel  vatical, 
Ennobled  hast  (high  signal  of  renown  !), 
Marrying  my  voice  with  thine,  hast  said  withal, 
"  Be  thou  alone,  alonely  thou,  Amphion  !  " 

O  how  hath  black  night  welked  up  this  day ' 
My  wasted  hopes,  why  are  they  turned  to  graze 
In  pastures  of  despair?     Zepheria  say, 
Wherein  have  I,  on  love  committed  trespass ! 
O,  if  in  justice,  thou  must  needs  acquit  me, 
Reward  me  with  thy  love  !  Sweet,  heal  me  with  thy  pity 


C  ANZO  N    17. 

Ow  shall  I  deck  my  Love  in  love's  habiliment, 
And  her  embellish  in  a  right  depaint  ? 
Sith  now  is  left,  nor  rose,  nor  hyacinth, 
Each  one  their  beauties  with  their  hue  acquaint. 

The  gold  ceiling  of  thy  brow's  rich  frame 
Designs  the  proud  pomp  of  thy  face's  architure. 
Crystal  transparent  casements  to  the  same, 
Are  thine  eyes'  sun,  which  do  the  world  depute ; 

Whose  silvery  canopy,  gold-wire  fringes. 
Thy  brow,  the  bowling  place  for  Cupid's  eye. 
Love's  true-love  knots,  and  lily-lozenges, 
Thy  cheeks,  depainten  in  an  immortal  dye. 

If  well,  thou  limned  art,  now,  by  face  im;i 

Judge,  how,  by  life,  I  then  should  pencil  th<  e  I 


I  66  Z  E  P  II  E  R  1  A  .  [   ,  ?I5g+ 

CANZON    i  8. 

^Xacter,  should  it  fortune  I  should  pencil  thee  ; 
What  glory  may  attend  though  on  my  skill  ? 
Even  such  as  him  befalls,  whose  pen  doth  copy 
The  sweet  invention  of  another's  quill. 

My  Muse  yet  never  journeyed  to  the  Indes, 
Thy  Fair  to  purple  in  Alchermyan  dye, 
All  on  the  weak  spread  of  his  eyes'  wings 
Sufficeth  that  thou  mount,  though  not  so  high ! 

Yet  should  it  hap,  that,  in  a  kind  vouchsafe, 
The  feature  of  my  pen  some  grace  do  win  ; 
Thereof,  Zepheria  all  the  honour  hath ! 
The  copying  scribe  may  claim  no  right  therein  : 

But  if  more  nice  wits  censure  my  lines  crooked, 

Thus  I  excuse,  "  I  wrote,  my  light  removed  !  " 


C  AN  Z  O  N    19 


0  !  no,  Zepheria  !  Fame  is  too  rich  a  prize 
My  all-unmeriting  lines  for  to  attend  on  ! 
The  best  applause  of  my  Muse,  on  thine  eyes 
Depends !      It   craves   but    smiles,    his    pains    to 
guerdon  ! 
But  thine,  the  glory  of  this  weak  emprise  ! 
Well  wot  I,  his  demerit  is  but  bare  ! 
Duteous  respect  then,  will  not  that  I  portionise 
To  me,  in  love's  respect,  equal  like  care. 

Lovely  respective !  equal  thou  this  care  ! 
And  with  thine  heaven's  calm  smiles,  mine  heart  imparadise  ! 
Shine  forth  thy  comfort's  sun,  my  fears'  Dismayer ! 
0  well  it  fits  lovers  to  sympathise  ! 

Hold  thou  the  spoils  of  Fame,  for  thine  inheritance ! 
Thy  love,  to  me  is  sweetest  chevisance  ! 


t?,S94.]  Zepiieria.  167 

CANZON    20. 

Ow  often  hath  my  pen  (mine  heart's  Solicitor!) 
Instructed  thee  in  Breviat  of  my  case  ! 
While  Fancy-pleading  eyes  (thy  beauty's  Visitor  !) 
Have  patterned  to  my  quill,  an  angel's  face. 
How  have  my  Sonnets  (faithful  Counsellors  !) 
Thee,  without  ceasing  moved  for  Day  of  Hearing ! 
While  they,  my  Plaintive  Cause  (my  faith's  Revealers  !) 
Thy  long  delay,  my  patience,  in  thine  ear  ring. 

How  have  I  stood  at  bar  of  thine  own  conscience ; 
When  in  Requesting  Court  my  suit  I  brought ! 
How  have  thy  long  adjournments  slowed  the  sentence, 
Which  I  (through  much  expense  of  tears)  besought! 
Through  many  difficulties  have  I  run, 
Ah,  sooner  wert  thou  lost,  I  wis,  than  won  1 


CANZON    21. 

Nd  is  it  by  immutable  Decree 
(Immutable,  yet  cruel  Ordnance  !) 
Ordained  (still  forced,  I  cry,  "  O  strange  impiety  !  " 
On  True  Love,  to  impose  such  tyrant  penance  ? 

That  We,  unto  each  other  shall  surrender 
The  sealed  indentures  of  our  love  compacted  ; 
And  that  thereof  we  make  such  loyal  tender 
As  best  shall  seem  to  them  that  so  enacted  ! 

Then  list,  while  I  advertise  once  again, 
"  Though  we  yield  up  our  charters  so  ensealed  : 
Yet  see  that  thou  safeguard  my  counterpane ! 
And  I,  in  heart,  shall  keep  thy  bond  uncancelled  ; 

And  so  hereafter  (if,  at  least,  you  please  !) 

We'll  plead  this  Redelivery  was  by  duress  !  " 


i  OS  Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  .  [  j  ,IM4 

C  A  N  Z  0  N    22. 


T  was  not  long  ago,  since,  like  a  wanton, 
Froward,  displeased  with  that  it  loves,  I  wis, 
Improved,  I  did  write  to  thee,  a  Canton, 
Wherein  I  seemed  to  turn  Love  out  of  service. 

Well  said  I  herein,  that  I  did  but  "  seem  "  it ! 
Loath  to  depart,  he  still  retained  to  me  ; 
Although  displeased,  yet  each  one  well  might  deem, 
He  was  my  servant,  while  he  wore  my  livery ! 

Pensively  grieved  with  that,  that  I  had  done, 
I  wrote  a  Sonnet,  which,  by  syllable, 
Eat  up  the  former,  and  withal  craved  pardon; 
Vowing  a  large  amends,  as  time  should  able. 

"  But  who  beyond  his  power  vows,  offends  ! 

Presumptuous  as  thou  art !  to  name  Amends." 


C  AN  ZO  N    23 


Hy  coral-coloured  lips,  how  should  I  portray 
Unto  the  unmatchable  pattern  of  their  sweet ! 
A  draught  of  blessedness  I  stole  away 
From  them,  when  last  I  kissed.     I  taste  it  yet ! 

So  did  that  sug'ry  touch  my  lips  ensucket. 
On  them,  Minerva's  honey  birds  do  hive 

Mellifluous  words ;  when  so  thou  please  to  frame 

Thy  speech  to  entertainment !     Thence  I  derive 

My  heart's  sole  paradise,  and  my  lips  sweet  game. 
Ye  are  the  coral  gates  of  Temple's  clarion, 

Whereout  the  Pythius  preached  divinity  ! 

Unto  thy  voice  bequeathed  the  good  Arion, 

His  silvery  lyre  !    Such  Poean  melody 
Thy  voice,  the  organ  pipe  of  angels  quire 
Trebles  !  Yet,  one  kiss;  and  I'll  raise  them  higher ! 


llM 

illlfe 

t?.5^J  Zepheria.  169 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    24. 

JNto  the  Muses,  I  resign  my  scroll, 

Who  sing  with  voice  unto  the  spheres  proportionable. 

Sing  ye !  O  write  ye  of  my  love's  pure  soul ! 

Unbody  it,  in  words  inimitable  ! 

In  high  sphere,  then,  see  ye  her  name  enrolled  ! 

On  her  heart  throne,  sits  the  divine  Astr^ea; 

Who  doth  the  balance  of  her  favours  hold, 

Which  she  imparts  in  justice  and  demerit. 

For  virgin  purity,  white  Galatea 

Doth  type  the  sanctity  of  her  purer  spirit. 

She,  the  fourth  Grace,  height  Pasith^ea, 

Only  recorded  by  our  first  born  son  ; 

Whom  after  long  sleep,  we  shall  now  untomb 

And  her  translate  into  Zepheria. 

Amidst  the  Charites,  possess  thy  room  ! 

Thalia  in  heart,  zealous  Urania; 

The  soul's  musician,  sweet  Thelxione; 

Daughter  of  Love  and  Admiration  ! 

A  veil  immortal  shall  we  put  on  thee, 

And  on  thy  head  instar  the  Gnosian  Crown  ! 

Ariadne  doth  herself  undeify, 

Yielding  her  coronal  to  thine  installation  ! 

Now  live  in  starry  stage  of  heaven,  a  deity  ! 

And  sing  we,  Io  Zepheria  !  all  in  a  rown. 

"  Hold  !  take  thy  scroll !  With  wing  of  immortality, 
Thy  Love  is  clad  !  Nay,  ought  may  her  unsanctify, 
But  proud  Disdain!"   Thanks,  sweet  CALLIOPE  I 


170  Zepheria.  [  1  T, 

CANZON    25. 


|Et  not  Disdain,  thy  soul  unsanctify ! 

Disdain,  the  passport  for  a  lover's  vow ! 

Unsieging,  where  its  seeks  to  fortify 

With  deadly  frowns,  the  canons  of  the  brow ! 

Let  not  Disdain  (the  Hearse  of  virgin  Graces  ! 
The  Counterpoison  to  unchastity  ! 
The  Leaven  that  doth  sour  the  sweetest  faces!) 
Stain  thy  new  purchased  immortality  ! 

'Mongst  Delian  nymphs,  in  Angels'  University, 
Thou,  my  Zepheria,  liv'st  matriculated  ! 
The  daughters  of  ethereal  Jove,  thy  deity 
On  holy  hill,  have  aye  perpetuated ! 

O  then,  retire  thy  brows'  artillery! 

Love  more  !  and  more  bliss  yet,  shall  honour  thee  ! 


CANZON   26. 

51  Hen  we,  in  kind  embracements,  had  agreed 
To  keep  a  royal  banquet  on  our  lips ; 
How  soon,  have  we  another  feast  decreed ! 
And  how,  at  parting,  have  we  mourned  by  fits ! 
Eftsoons,  in  absence,  have  we  wailed  much  more, 
Till  those  void  hours  of  intermission 
Were  spent !     That  we  might  revel  as  before, 
How  have  we  bribed  Time  for  expedition  ! 

And  when  remitted  to  our  former  love-plays  ; 
How  have  we,  overweening  in  delight, 
Accused  the  Father  Sexton  of  the  days 
That,  then,  with  eagle's  wings,  he  took  his  flight  ! 
But  now,  Old  Man !  fly  on,  as  swift  as  thought ! 
Sith  eyes  from  love,  and  hope  from  heart  is  wrought. 


m 

?T,59J  Zepheria.  171 

C  A  N  Z  O  N    27. 

E'er  from  a  lofty  pitch,  hath  made  more  speed, 
The  feather-sailing  Falcon  to  the  lure  ; 
Nor  fairer  stooped,  when  he  on  fist  would  feed, 
Than  I,  Zepheria  !  to  thine  eyes  allure ! 
Ne'er  from  the  deep,  when  winds  declare  a  tempest, 
Posts  with  more  haste  the  little  Halcion, 
Nor  faster  hies  him  to  some  safer  rest ; 
Than  I  have  fled,  from  thy  death-threatening  frown  ! 
Ne'er  did  the  sun's  love-mate,  the  gold  Hetropion 
Smile  more  resplendent  lustre  on  her  Dear! 
Nay,  ever  was  his  shine  to  her  more  welcome, 
Than  thine  to  me,  when  smiling  was  thy  cheer ! 
But  now,  my  sun  !  it  fits  thou  take  thy  set  ! 
And  veil  thy  face  with  frowns,  as  with  a  frontlet ! 


CANZON   28. 

|Hen  clear  hath  been  thy  brow,  and  free  from  wrinkle, 

Thy  smoothed  brow,  my  soul's  sole  hierarchy  !) 

When  sweetly  hath  appeared  in  cheek  the  dimple, 

There  Love  enthroned  sways  powerful  monarchy  ! 

Glad  have  I,  then,  rich  statues  to  his  deity 
Erected.     Then,  have  I  his  altar  hallowed  ! 
His  rights,  I  held,  with  high  solemnity  ! 
His  Trophy  decked,  and  it  with  rosebuds  strewed  ! 

I  kissed  thy  cheek!  Then  thou,  with  gold  artillery. 
Hast  him  engirt,  tasselled  with  purple  twine, 
(Featly  contrived  to  hang  his  quiver  by) 
Besides  a  crimson  scarf  to  veil  his  eyne  : 

But,  see  !  No  sooner  was  he  gay  apparelled, 

But  that,  false  Boy !  away  from  us  he  fled  ! 


172  Z  R  r  II  R  R  I  A  .  |_   f\m 

CANZON    29. 

Ow  many  golden  days !  have  I  set  free 
From  tedious  travail  in  a  sadder  Muse, 
While  I,  of  amours  have  conferred  with  thee  ! 
While  I,  long  absence  never  need  excuse ! 

Sweet  was  Occasion  !   and  for  sweet  inexplicable, 
That  eyes'  invited  guests  unto  thine  eyes'  fare ; 
When,  by  thy  dainty  leave,  on  coral  table 
I  fed  !     O  there,  I  sucked  celestial  air  ! 

Amidst  these  sug'ry  junkets  thirsty,  I 
Have  thy  delicious  hand,  with  my  lips  pressed  ! 
I  drew  for  wine,  but  found  'twas  Ambrosie  : 
O  how  my  spirits  inly  that  refreshed  ! 

Yet,  ay  me  !  since  I  relished  this  delight  ; 

I  e'er  more  thirsted  with  a  hotter  appetite  ! 


CANZON    30 


|  Hat!  Shall  I  ne'er  more  see  those  Halcion  days  ! 
Those  sunny  Sabbaths  !  Days  of  Jubilee  ! 
Wherein  I  carrolled  merry  Roundelays, 
Odes,  and  Love  Songs?  which,  being  viewed  by  thee, 
Received  allowance  worthy  better  writ ! 
When  we,  on  Shepherds'  Holy  Days  have  hied 
Down  to  the  flow'ry  pastures  (flowers,  for  thy  treading  fit ! ) 
Holy  the  day,  when  thou  it  sanctified  ! 

When  thou,  Zepheria,  wouldst  but  deign  to  bless  it, 
How  have  I,  jealous  over  Phoebus'  rays, 
Clouded  thy  Fair  !     Then,  fearing  he  would  guess  it 
By  thy  white  brow,  it  have  I  cinct'  with  bays ! 
But,  woe  is  me  !  that  I  have  fenced  thy  beauty  ! 
Sith  other  must  enjoy  it,  and  not  I. 


f  15  *• 


Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 


*7; 


C  A  N  Z  O  N   31 


Et  none  shall  equal  me  in  my  demerit, 
Though  happier  (may  it  fortune)  he  may  court  it ! 
Nor  shall  more  faithful  love  his  suit  inherit ! 
Ne  paint  like  Passion,  though  he  shew  more  Wit  ! 
Admit,  he  write  !     My  quill  hath  done  as  much  ! 
Admit,  he  sigh  !     That  have  I  done,  and  more  ! 
Admit,  he  weep  !     These  eyes  have  wept  even  such  : 
Their  tears,  as  hearty  ;  and  in  greater  store  ! 

Yet,  nearer  may  he  press,  and  swear  "  He  dies  !  " 
Jove  (thinks  he)  smiles  at  lovers'  jurament  : 
Prove  him  !     Then  shalt  thou  find  he  falsely  lies  ! 
Many  so  threaten  death,  that  nil  experiment  ! 
Repulsed,  then  will  he  sue  to  do  thee  service  ! 
Said  not  I  well  now,  that  "  he  falsely  lies  1 " 


C  A  NZ  O  N   32. 

Ature,  I  find,  doth,  once  a  year,  hold  market! 
A  gaudy  fair  of  brooches  and  of  babies  ; 
And  bounteously  to  all  doth  She  impart  it, 
Yet  chiefly  to  true  Lovers,  and  fair  Ladies. 
There,  may  you  see  her  dappart  Com'nalty 
Clad,  some  in  purple,  some  in  scarlet  dye ; 
Whiles  she  (rich  Queen !),  in  all  her  royalty, 
Commands  them  spread  their  chaffer  to  the  eye. 

The  buyer  pays  no  impost,  nor  no  fees ; 
But  rather  to  invite  with  wealthier  pleasure, 
She  booths  her  fair  with  shade  of  broad-branched  trees, 
Wherein  (good  Queen ! )  her  care  doth  match  her  treasure. 
With  wealth  of  more  cost,  Nature  doth  Thee  beautify  ! 
Save,  careless,  she  hath  left  no  shelter  'gainst  thine  eye 


174 


Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 


J    159+ 


t  Ksta 


CANZON   33. 

lTHER,chaste  Phcebe's  Nymphs  flocked  in  procession, 
Whose  beauties  attractive  all  eyes  so  exercised 
With  mazed-admire,that,for  some  late  transgression, 
Men  weened  heaven's  angels  were  unparadised. 
Such  saints,  heaven's  paradise  contains  but  few, 
Their  roseate  beauties,  Nature's  wealth  distained  ; 
Compared  their  lustre,  checked  her  verdant  hue, 
They  even  her  purest  quintessence  engrained. 

Anemone  there  stood  with  Daffodilly  ! 
The  purple  Hyacinth,  and  the  musk  Rose ! 
Red  Amaranthus,  and  the  milk-bred  Lily ! 
I  came  in  quest ;  yet  would  I  none  of  those  ! 
Unto  Hyperion's  bride,  my  choice  I  knit  ! 
There,  in  her  goldy  leaves,  my  love  is  writ ! 


CANZON    34. 

Ince  from  the  full  feed  of  thy  favour's  lease, 
My  thoughts  (O  Time's  accursed  memory  !) 
Were  forced  (such  shift,  alas,  did  ill  them  please  !) 
To  crop  on  sedge  sour  and  unsavoury  ; 
Since  from  their  sweet  refresh,  all  pined,  they 
Have  spent  a  lustre  in  sad  widowhood ; 
Since  when  Sorrow  to  them  hath  served  in  pay, 
Outlaws  to  Hope,  immured  from  every  good ; 
Since  from  thy  brow,  the  pompous  gallery 
Wherein  were  storised  to  mine  eye,  sweet  objects, 
Embroidered  all  with  rare  imagery  ; 
Whose  ivory  floor  enamelled  azure  frets  : 

Mine  eye  (O  woe  the  while  !)  hath  been  sequestered ! 
My  heart,  his  grief  therefore,  in  face  hath  registered. 


t     1594-. 


Z  E  P HE  R 


I  A 


7$ 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    35. 


Ince  from  the  flowered  sweets  of  every  blessedness, 
Which  from  thy  beauties  delicate  peruse 
Incessantly  doth  flow,  mine  heart,  like  anch'ress 
Aye  cloistered,  lives  to  sad  and  cheerless  Muse. 
If  any  smiling  joy  fortune  to  fawn  on  me, 
Suggesting  to  my  spirit  sweet  content : 
Anon,  I  article  with  his  felicity  ; 
And  ere  mine  heart  vouchsafes  him  entertainment, 

I  him  depose,  on  these  Interrogatories. 
First,  "  If  he  came  from  my  Zepheria?  " 
Then,  "  If  he  may  to  light  restore  mine  eyes, 
Which  long  have  dwelt  in  dark  ?  "  If  then,  he  say, 
"  Nay  !  but  thy  thoughts  to  unbend  from  off  her  beauties, 
I  come  !  "  eftsoons,  I  strangle  him  while  in  his  infancy 
Better  slay  him,  than  he  do  thee  to  die ! 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    36. 

Ut  if,  with  error  and  unjust  suspect, 
Thou  shalt  the  burden  of  my  grievance  aggravate 
Laying  unto  my  charge  thy  love's  neglect 
(A  load  which  patience  cannot  tolerate !) 
First,  to  be  Atlas  to  my  own  Desire, 
Then,  to  depress  me  with  unkind  construction  ; 
While  to  mine  own  griefs  may  I  scarce  respire  : 
This  is  to  heap  Ossa  on  Pelion  ! 

O  would  the  reach  yet  of  unequal  censure 
Might  here  but  date  his  partiality ; 


r;6  Z  e  r  n  e  r  i  a  .  [  ?\594 

Mistrust  (who  ne'er  is  ripe,  till  worst  be  thought  on) 
Hath  my  crime  racked,  yet  to  more  high  extensure. 

And  now  'tis  drawn  to  flat  Apostasy 
(So  straight  beset ;  best,  I  lay  hold  on  pardon  !) 
Why  then,  sith  better  i'st  a  penitentiary 
To  save,  than  to  expose  to  shame's  confusion. 
Thy  face  being  veiled,  this  penance  I  award, 
"  Clad  in  white  sheet,  thou  stand  in  Paul's  Church- 
yard !  " 


CANZON    37. 

§]Hen  last  mine  eyes  dislodged  from  thy  beauty, 
Though  served  with  Process  of  a  parent's  Writ 
A  Supersedeas  countermanding  duty, 
Even  then,  I  saw  upon  thy  smiles  to  sit ! 
Those  smiles  which  me  invited  to  a  Party, 
Disperpling  clouds  of  faint  respecting  fear  ; 
Against  the  Summons  which  was  served  on  me. 
A  larger  privilege  of  dispense  did  bear. 

Thine  eyes'  edict,  the  Statute  of  Repeal, 
Doth  other  duties  wholly  abrogate, 
Save  such  as  thee  endear  in  hearty  zeal, 
Then  be  it  far  from  me,  that  I  should  derogate 
From  Nature's  Law,  enregistered  in  thee  ! 
So  might  my  love  incur  a  Prcemunire . 


7 

1    159-1 


]  Z  E  P  II  E  R  I  A  . 

C  A  N  Z  O  N    38. 


177 


Rom  the  revenue  of  thine  eyes'  Exchequer, 
My  faith,  his  Subsidy  did  ne'er  detract ! 
Though  in  thy  favour's  book,  I  rest  a  debtor ; 
Yet,  'mongst  accountants  who  their  faith  have  crackt, 
My  name  thou  findest  not  irrotulate  ! 
I  list  not  stand  indebted  to  infame ; 
(Foul  them  befall  who  pay  in  counterfeit ! 
Be  they  recognised  in  black  Book  of  Shame  !) 
But  if  the  Rent,  which  wont  was  of  assize, 
Thou  shalt  enhance,  through  pride  and  coy  disdain  ! 
Exacting  double  tribute  to  thine  eyes ; 
And  yet  encroachest  on  my  heart's  domain : 
Needs  must  I  wish  (though  'gainst  my  foyalty), 
That  thou  unsceptered  be  of  Nature's  royalty  ! 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    39. 


Nd  now,  thou  winged  Ambassador  of  Wonder ! 
Liberal  dispenser  of  reproachful  act  ! 
Who  never  whisperest,  but  in  a  voice  of  thunder! 
Explor'st  what  secrecy  would  fain  have  darked ! 
"  Tell  my  Zepheria  !  (sith  thou  nill  be  silenced  !) 
My  hopes  on  her  calm  smiles  did  them  embark  ; 
Whose  sunny  shine  seemed  to  have  licensed 
From  them,  all  fear  of  tempest,  or  of  wreck. 

Now,  on  the  shelf  of  her  brows'  proud  disdain, 
A  harbour,  where  they  looked  for  asile, 
The  pilot  who,  'fore  now,  did  expect  rain, 
His  bark  in  seas  are  all  ydrenched,  alack  the  while  ! 
Tell  if,  at  least,  she  all,  through  fear,  excordiatc, 
Command  thee  not  to  peace,  ere  thou  exordiatc  !  " 

II.  M  'J 


i;S 


Zepiieria. 


L     *      "594 


C  A  N  Z  O  N    40. 

Ut  if  She  shall  attend  what  fortunes  sequelled 
The  nan/rage  of  my  poor  afflicted  bark ; 
Then  tell,  but  tell  in  words  unsyllabled  ! 
In  sighs'  untuned  accents,  move  her  to  hark 
Unto  the  tenour  of  thy  sadder  process  ! 
Say  then,  "  His  tears  (his  heart's  intelligencers  !) 
Did  intimate  the  griefs  did  him  possess. 
Crying,  Zepheria,  unto  thee  !  these  messengers 

I  send  !     O  these,  my  loves,  my  faith  shall  witness  ! 
O  these  shall  record  loves  and  faith  unfeigned  ! 
Look  how  my  soul  bathes  in  their  innocency  ! 
Whose  dying  confidence  him  designs  unstained 
Of  guilty  blush-note  of  impurity. 

(0  Death  !  Highway  to  Life,  when  Love  is  distained  !)  " 
This  said,  if  cruel  She,  no  grace  vouchsafe  : 
Dead,  may  her  Gravestone  be  her  Epitaph  I 

Troppo  sperar  inganna. 
F I  N  I  S. 


3%. 


3*^ 


/ 


D  E  A . 


I  N 


S  I  X  T  Y-T  H  R  E  E 

SONNETS. 

B  Y 

Michael  Drayton, 

Esquire. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  John    Smethwick. 

i  6  i  9. 


i  So 


Drayton's  Idea  Sonnets  appeared  in  four  distinct  editions,  the 
contents  of  each  of  which  varied  considerably,  before  the  fifth  and  final 
edition  of  1619,  which  is  printed  here,  and  contains  in  all  sixty-four 
sonnets.  Eighteen  of  the  sonnets  in  the  present  collection  appeared 
originally  in  the  first  edition  of  1594,  twenty-one  in  the  second  edition 
of  1599,  eight  in  the  third  edition  of  1602  (reprinted  in  1603),  seven  in 
the  edition  of  1605  (reprinted  three  times,  in  1608,  1610,  and  161 3). 
Ten  sonnets  only  were  printed  in  the  1619  edition  for  the  first  time. 
The  edition  in  which  each  sonnet  first  saw  the  light  is  duly  indicated 
in  this  reprint. 

To  the  Reader  of  these  Sonnets. 


[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  2),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Nto  these  Loves,  who  but  for  Passion  look's  ,• 
At  this  first  sight,  here  let  hint  lay  them  by  ! 
And  seek  elsewhere  in  turning  other  books, 
Which  better  may  his  labour  satisfy. 
No  far-fetched  Sigh  shall  ever  wound  my  breast ! 
Love  from  mine  eye,  a  Tear  shall  never  wring  ! 
No  "  Ah  me  !  "s  my  whining  sonnets  drest  ! 
A  Libertine  !  fantasticly  L  sing  ! 

My  Verse  is  the  true  image  of  my  Mind, 
Ever  in  motion,  still  desiring  change  : 
And  as  thus,  tovariety  inclined ; 
So  in  all  humours  sportively  L  range  ! 

My  Muse  is  rightly  of  the  English  strain, 
That  cannot  long  one  fashion  e7itertain. 


iSi 


Idea. 


[First  printed  in  1619.] 


Ike  an  adventurous  seafarer  am  I, 
Who  hath  some  long  and  dangerous  voyage 

been ; 
And  called  to  tell  of  his  discovery, 
How  far  he  sailed,  what  countries  he  had 
seen  ; 
Proceeding  from  the  port  whence  he  put 
forth, 
Shews  by  his  compass  how  his  course  he  steered, 
When  East,  when  West,  when  South,  and  when  by  North, 
As  how  the  Pole,  to  every  place  was  reared ; 

What  capes  he  doubled,  of  what  continent, 
The  gulfs  and  straits  that  strangely  he  had  past ; 
Where  most  becalmed,  where  with  foul  weather  spent, 
And  on  what  rocks  in  peril  to  be  cast  : 
Thus  in  my  Love,  Time  calls  me  to  relate 
My  tedious  travels,  and  oft-varying  fate. 


I  82 


Idea. 


LM.  Drayton. 
15 


159^1619. 


2. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  51),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

|Y  heart  was  slain,  and  none  but  you  and  I  ? 
Who  should  I  think  the  murder  should  commit  ; 
Since  but  yourself,  there  was  no  creature  by 
But  only  I,  guiltless  of  murdering  it  ? 

It  slew  itself?  The  verdict  on  the  view 
Do  quit  the  dead,  and  me  not  accessory. 
Well,  well !  I  fear  it  will  be  proved  of  you  ! 
Th'evidence  so  great  a  proof  doth  carry. 

But  0  see !   See,  we  need  inquire  no  further  ! 
Upon  your  lips,  the  scarlet  drops  are  found  ! 
And  in  your  eye,  the  Boy  that  did  the  murder  ! 
Your  cheeks  yet  pale,  since  first  he  gave  the  wound  ! 

By  this  I  see,  however  things  be  past, 

Yet  Heaven  will  still  have  murder  out  at  last. 


[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  6),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Aking  my  pen,  with  words  to  cast  my  woe, 
Duly  to  count  the  sum  of  all  my  cares  ; 
I  find,  my  griefs  innumerable  grow  : 
The  reck'nings  rise  to  millions  of  despairs. 

And  thus  dividing  of  my  fatal  hours  : 
The  payments  of  my  Love,  I  read  and  cross  ; 
Subtracting,  set  my  Sweets  unto  my  Sours. 
My  Joys'  arrearage  leads  me  to  my  loss. 

And  thus  mine  eyes  a  debtor  to  thine  eye, 
Which  by  extortion  gaineth  all  their  looks  ; 
My  heart  hath  paid  such  grievous  usury, 
That  all  their  wealth  lies  in  thy  Beauty's  books, 

And  all  is  Thine  which  hath  been  due  to  me  ; 

And  I  a  bankrupt,  quite  undone  by  Thee  ! 


M.  Drayton.  "1 
1594-1619.  J 


Idea. 


1&3 


[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  66),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Right  Star  of  Beauty!  on  whose  Eyelids  sit 
A  thousand  nymph-like  and  enamoured  Graces, 
The  Goddesses  of  Memory  and  Wit, 
Which  there  in  order  take  their  several  places. 

In  whose  dear  Bosom,  sweet  delicious  Love 
Lays  down  his  quiver,  which  he  once  did  bear, 
Since  he  that  blessed  Paradise  did  prove  ; 
And  leaves  his  mother's  lap,  to  sport  him  there. 

Let  others  strive  to  entertain  with  words ! 
My  soul  is  of  a  braver  mettle  made  : 
I  hold  that  vile,  which  vulgar  Wit  affords, 
In  me  's  that  faith  which  Time  cannot  invade  ! 

Let  what  I  praise,  be  still  made  good  by  you  ! 

Be  you  most  worthy,  whilst  I  am  most  true ! 


5- 

[First  printed  in  T599  (No.  8),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 


No 


\*Ay. 


Othing  but  "  No ! "  and  "  I !  ",  and  "  I ! "  and  " 

"  How  falls  it  out  so  strangely  ?  "  you  reply. 

I  tell  ye,  Fair  !  I'll  not  be  answered  so  ! 

With  this  affirming  "  No  !  ",  denying  "  I  !  ". 

I  say  "  I  love  ! "  You  slightly  answer  "  I !  ". 
I  say  "  You  love ! "  You  pule  me  out  a  "  No !  " 
I  say  "  I  die  !  "  You  echo  me  with  "  I !  ". 
"  Save  me  !  "  I  cry ;  you  sigh  me  out  a"No!' 

Must  Woe  and  I  have  naught  but  "No!"  and 
No  "  I !  "  am  I,  if  I  no  more  can  have. 
Answer  no  more  !  With  silence  make  reply, 
And  let  me  take  myself  what  I  do  crave  ! 

Let  "  No !  "  and  "II"  with  I  and  you  be  so, 

Then  answer  "  No ! "  and  "  I ! ",  and  "II"  and  " No 


I! 


1 34 


Idea 


T.M.  Drayton. 
L      1594-1619. 


6. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 


|Ovv  many  paltry  foolish  painted  Things, 
That  now  in  coaches  trouble  every  street, 
Shall  be  forgotten  (whom  no  Poet  sings) 
Ere  they  be  well  wrapped  in  their  winding  sheet ! 

Where  I,  to  thee  Eternity  shall  give ! 
When  nothing  else  remaineth  of  these  days. 
And  Queens  hereafter  shall  be  glad  to  live 
Upon  the  alms  of  thy  superfluous  praise. 

Virgins  and  matrons,  reading  these  my  rhymes, 
Shall  be  so  much  delighted  with  thy  Story, 
That  they  shall  grieve  they  lived  not  in  these  Times, 
To  have  seen  Thee,  their  sex's  only  glory  ! 

So  shalt  thou  fly  above  the  vulgar  throng, 

Still  to  survive  in  my  immortal  Song. 


7- 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  10),  and  in  ail  later  editions.] 

Ove,  in  a  humour,  played  the  prodigal, 
And  bade  my  Senses  to  a  solemn  feast ; 
Yet  more  to  grace  the  company  withal, 
Invites  my  Heart  to  be  the  chiefest  guest. 

No  other  drink  would  serve  this  glutton's  turn, 
But  precious  Tears  distilling  from  mine  ey'n  ; 
Which  with  my  Sighs  this  epicure  doth  burn, 
Quaffing  carouses  in  this  costly  wine  : 

Where,  in  his  cups,  o'ercome  with  foul  excess, 
Straightways  he  plays  a  swaggering  ruffian's  part, 
And  at  the  banquet,  in  his  drunkenness, 
Slew  his  dear  friend,  my  kind  and  truest  Heart. 

A  gentle  warning,  friends  !  thus  may  you  see, 

What  'tis  to  keep  a  drunkard,  company  ! 


M.  Drayton 


Drayton.  ~| 
1594-1619.  J 


Idea. 


18 


8. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Here's  nothing  grieve  me,  but  that  Age  should  haste, 
That  in  my  days,  I  may  not  see  the  old ! 
That  where  those  two  clear  sparkling  Eyes  are  placed, 
Only  two  loopholes,  then  I  might  behold  ! 
That  lovely  arched  ivory-polished  Brow 
Defaced  with  wrinkles,  that  I  might  but  see! 
Thy  dainty  Hair,  so  curled  and  crisped  now, 
Like  grizzled  moss  upon  some  aged  tree  ! 

Thy  Cheek,  now  flush  with  roses,  sunk  and  lean  ! 
Thy  Lips,  with  age  as  any  wafer  thin  ! 
Thy  pearly  Teeth,  out  of  thy  head  so  clean, 
That  when  thou  feed'st,  thy  Nose  shall  touch  thy  Chin ! 
These  Lines  that  now  scornst,  which  should  delight  thee  : 
Then  would  I  make  thee  read,  but  to  despite  thee ! 


[First  printed  in  160?  (No.  12),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

S  other  men,  so  I  myself,  do  muse 
Why  in  this  sort  I  wrest  Invention  so  ? 
And  why  these  giddy  metaphors  I  use, 
Leaving  the  path  the  greater  part  do  go  ? 

I  will  resolve  you  !  I  am  lunatic  ! 
And  ever  this  in  madmen  you  shall  find, 
What  they  last  thought  of,  when  the  brain  grew  sick, 
In  most  distraction,  they  keep  that  in  mind. 

Thus  talking  idly,  in  this  Bedlam  fit, 
Reason  and  I  (you  must  conceive)  are  twain  ; 
'Tis  nine  years  now,  since  first  I  lost  my  Wit. 
Bear  with  me  then,  though  troubled  be  my  brain  ! 

With  diet  and  correction,  men  distraught, 

(Not  too  far  past),  may  to  their  wits  be  brought. 


1 36  Idea.  [*.£5R 

io. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  12),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

O  nothing  fitter  can  I  thee  compare, 
Than  to  the  son  of  some  rich  penny-father  ; 
Who  having  now  brought  on  his  end  with  care, 
Leaves  to  his  son,  all  he  had  heaped  together. 
This  new  rich  Novice,  lavish  of  his  chest, 
To  one  man  gives !  doth  on  another  spend ! 
Then  here  he  riots !  yet,  amongst  the  rest, 
Haps  to  lend  some  to  one  true  honest  friend. 

Thy  Gifts,  thou  in  obscurity  dost  waste  ! 
False  friends,  thy  Kindness  !  born  but  to  deceive  thee. 
Thy  Love  that  is  on  the  unworthy  placed  ! 
Time  hath  thy  Beauty,  which  with  age  will  leave  thee! 
Only  that  little,  which  to  me  was  lent, 
I  give  thee  back  !  when  all  the  rest  is  spent. 


11. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  12),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ou're  not  alone  when  You  are  still  alone, 
O  God  !  from  You  that  I  could  private  be  ! 
Since  You  one  were,  I  never  since  was  one  ; 
Since  You  in  Me,  my  self  since  out  of  Me. 

Transported  from  my  Self  into  your  Being, 
Though  either  distant,  present  yet  to  either : 
Senselessly  with  too  much  joy,  each  other  seeing; 
And  only  absent,  when  We  are  together. 

Give  me  my  self!  and  take  your  self  again  ! 
Devise  some  means  but  how  I  may  forsake  You  ! 
So  much  is  mine  that  doth  with  You  remain, 
That  taking  what  is  mine,  with  me  I  take  You  ! 

You  do  bewitch  Me !  O  that  I  could  fly 

From  my  self  You,  or  from  your  own  self  I  ! 


M.  Drayton 
'594 


yton.~] 
1619.J 


Id 


E  A 


IS? 


12. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  14),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Soul. 

Hat  learned  Father,  which  so  firmly  proves 
The  Soul  of  Man  immortal  and  divine, 
And  doth  the  several  Offices  define  : 

Gives  her  that  Name,  as  she  the  body  moves. 

Then  is  she  Love,  embracing  Charity. 

Moving  a  will  in  us,  it  is  the  Mind  : 

Retaining  knowledge,  still  the  same  in  kind. 

As  intellectual,  it  is  Memory. 

In  judging,  Reason  only  is  her  name. 

In  speedy  apprehension,  it  is  Sense. 


A  nima, 

A  mor, 

A  nimus, 

Mens, 

Memoria, 

Ratio, 

Sensus, 

Conscientia,  In  right  and  wrong,  they  call  her  Conscience. 

Spiritus,       The  Spirit,  when  it  to  GODward  doth  inflame. 
These  of  the  Soul,  the  several  functions  be, 
Which  my  heart  lightened  by  thy  Love,  doth 
see. 

13- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  21),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Shadow. 

Etters  and  lines,  we  see  are  soon  defaced. 
Metals  do  waste  and  fret  with  canker's  rust. 
The  diamond  shall  once  consume  to  dust; 
And  freshest  colours,  with  foul  stains  disgraced. 

Paper  and  ink  can  paint  but  naked  words. 
To  write  with  blood,  of  force  offends  the  sight. 
And  if  with  tears,  I  find  them  all  too  light : 
And  sighs  and  signs,  a  silly  hope  afford  : 

O  sweetest  Shadow,  how  thou  serv'st  my  turn  ! 
Which  still  shalt  be,  as  long  as  there  is  sun, 
Nor  whilst  the  world  is,  never  shall  be  done  : 
Whilst  moon  shall  shine,  or  any  fire  shall  burn  : 

That  everything  whence  shadow  doth  proceed, 

May  in  his  shadow,  my  Love's  story  read. 


1 

[88  Idea.  PSES 

14, 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  17),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

F  he,  from  heaven  that  filched  that  living  fire, 
Condemned  by  Jove  to  endless  torment  be  ! 
I  greatly  marvel,  how  you  still  go  free ! 
That  far  beyond  Prometheus  did  aspire. 

The  fire  he  stole,  although  of  heavenly  kind, 
Which  from  above  he  craftily  did  take, 
Of  liveless  clods,  us  living  men  to  make ; 
He  did  bestow  in  temper  of  the  mind. 

But  you  broke  into  heaven's  immortal  store, 
Where  Virtue,  Honour,  Wit,  and  Beauty  lay  ! 
Which  taking  thence,  you  have  escaped  away, 
Yet  stand  as  free  as  e'er  you  did  before  : 

Yet  old  Prometheus  punished  for  his  rape  ! 

Thus  poor  thieves  suffer,  when  the  greater  'scape. 

15- 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

His  Remedy  for  Love. 

Ince  to  obtain  thee,  nothing  me  will  stead, 
I  have  a  Med'cine  that  shall  cure  my  Love. 
The  powder  of  her  Heart  dried,  when  she  is  dead, 
That  gold  nor  honour  ne'er  had  power  to  move  ; 

Mixed  with  her  Tears  that  ne'er  her  True  Love 
crost, 
Nor,  at  fifteen,  ne'er  longed  to  be  a  bride ; 
Boiled  with  her  Sighs,  in  giving  up  the  ghost, 
That  for  her  late  deceased  husband  died  ; 

Into  the  same,  then  let  a  woman  breathe, 
That  being  chid,  did  never  word  reply ; 
With  one  thrice-married's  Prayers,  that  did  bequeath 
A  legacy  to  stale  virginity. 

If  this  receipt  have  not  the  power  to  win  me ; 

Little  I'll  say,  but  think  the  Devil  's  in  me  ! 


M.  Drayton." 
1594- 


lyton.  "I 
-1619.J 


Id 


E  A 


1S9 


16. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  6),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

An  Allusion  to  the  Phoenix. 

Ongst  all  the  creatures  in  this  spacious  round, 
Of  the  birds'  kind,  the  Phoenix  is  alone  : 
Which  best  by  you,  of  living  things  is  known  ; 
None  like  to  that !  none  like  to  you  is  found  ! 

Your  Beauty  is  the  hot  and  splend'rous  sun. 
The  precious  spices  be  your  chaste  Desire ; 
Which  being  kindled  by  that  heavenly  fire, 
Your  life,  so  like  the  Phoenix  's  begun. 

Yourself  thus  burned  in  that  sacred  flame, 
With  so  rare  sweetness  all  the  heavens  perfuming  ; 
Again  increasing,  as  you  are  consuming, 
Only  by  dying  born  the  very  same. 

And  winged  by  Fame,  you  to  the  stars  ascend  ! 
So  you,  of  time  shall  live  beyond  the  end. 

17- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  7),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Time. 
Tay,  speedy  Time  I  behold,  before  thou  pass 
From  Age  to  Age,  what  thou  hast  sought  to  see ! 
One  in  whom  all  the  excellencies  be, 
In  whom  Heaven  looks  itself  as  in  a  glass. 

Time  !  look  thou  too  in  this  tralucent  glass  ! 
And  thy  youth  past,  in  this  pure  mirror  see ! 
As  the  World's  Beauty  in  his  infancy, 
What  it  was  then  ;  and  thou,  before  it  was. 

Pass  on  !  and  to  posterity  tell  this! 
Yet  see  thou  tell  but  truly,  what  hath  been  ! 
Say  to  our  nephews,  that  thou  once  hast  seen 
In  perfect  human  shape,  all  Heavenly  Bliss! 

And  bid  them  mourn,  nay  more,  despair  with  thee, 

(That  she  is  gone)  her  like  again  to  see  ! 


i  go  Idea.  [m-  Uray'on- 

j  *.*******  |_    1594.1619. 

18. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (Xo.  8),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Celestial  Numbers, 

O  this  our  World,  to  Learning,  and  to  Heaven  ; 
Three  Nines  there  are,  to  every  one  a  Nine  : 
One  number  of  the  earth,  the  other  both  Divine, 
One  Woman  now  makes  three  odd  numbers  even. 

Nine  Orders  first,  of  Angels  be  in  heaven  ; 
Nine  Muses  do,  with  Learning  still  frequent; 
These  with  the  gods  are  ever  resident. 
Nine  worthy  Women,  to  the  World  were  given. 

My  worthy  One,  to  these  Nine  Worthies  addeth  ! 
And  my  fair  Muse,  one  Muse  unto  the  Nine  ! 
And  my  good  Angel  (in  my  soul,  divine!), 
With  one  more  Order,  these  nine  Orders  gladdeth  ! 

My  Muse,  my  Worthy,  and  my  Angel  then 

Makes  every  One  of  these  three  Nines,  a  Ten. 

19. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  2),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Humour. 
Ou  cannot  love,  my  pretty  Heart !  and  why  ? 
There  was  a  time  you  told  me  that  you  would ; 
But  now  again,  you  will  the  same  deny ! 
If  it  might  please  you,  would  to  God  you  could  ! 
What,  will  you  hate  ?  Nay,  that  you  will  not  neither! 
Nor  love,  nor  hate  !  how  then  ?     What  will  you  do  ? 
What,  will  you  keep  a  mean  then  betwixt  either  ? 
Or  will  you  love  me,  and  yet  hate  me  too  ? 

Yet  serves  not  this  !  What  next,  what  other  shift  ? 
You  Will,  and  Will  Not;  what  a  coil  is  here ! 
I  see  your  craft !     Now,  I  perceive  your  drift ! 
And  all  this  while,  I  was  mistaken  there. 

Your  love  and  hate  is  this,  I  now  do  prove  you  ! 
You  love  in  hate,  by  hate  to  make  me  love  you. 


M.  Drayton.-] 
1594-1619.J 


Idea, 


191 


20. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  22),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

N  evil  Spirit  (your  Beauty)  haunts  me  still, 
Wherewith,  alas,  I  have  been  long  possesst ; 
Which  ceaseth  not  to  attempt  me  to  each  ill, 
Nor  give  me  once,  but  one  poor  minute's  rest. 

In  me  it  speaks,  whether  I  sleep  or  wake  : 
And  when  by  means  to  drive  it  out  I  try, 
With  greater  torments  then  it  me  doth  take, 
And  tortures  me  in  most  extremity. 

Before  my  face,  it  lays  down  my  despairs, 
And  hastes  me  on  unto  a  sudden  death : 
Now  tempting  me,  to  drown  myself  in  tears; 
And  then  in  sighing  to  give  up  my  breath. 

Thus  am  I  still  provoked  to  every  evil, 

By  this  good-wicked  Spirit,  sweet  Angel-Devil 


21. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Witless  Gallant,  a  young  wench  that  wooed 
(Yet  his  dull  spirit,  her  not  one  jot  could  move), 
Intreated  me,  as  e'er  I  wished  his  good, 
To  write  him  but  one  Sonnet  to  his  Love. 

When  I,  as  fast  as  e'er  my  pen  could  trot, 
Poured  out  what  first  from  quick  Invention  came  ; 
Nor  never  stood  one  word  thereof  to  blot : 
Much  like  his  wit,  that  was  to  use  the  same. 

But  with  my  verses,  he  his  Mistress  won  ; 
Who  doated  on  the  dolt  beyond  all  measure. 
But  see !     For  you,  to  heaven  for  phrase  I  run, 
And  ransack  all  Apollo's  golden  treasure  ! 

Yet  by  my  froth,  this  Fool,  his  Love  obtains  i 

And  I  lose  you,  for  all  my  wit  and  pains  ! 


'9-  Idea.  C^SSS 

22. 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  25),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Folly. 

Ith  fools  and  children,  good  discretion  bears. 
Then,  honest  people,  bear  with  Love  and  me ! 
Nor  older  yet,  nor  wiser  made  by  years, 
Amongst  the  rest  of  fools  and  children  be. 

Love,  still  a  baby,  plays  with  gauds  and  toys, 
And  like  a  wanton  sports  with  every  feather ; 
And  idiots  still  are  running  after  boys  : 
Then  fools  and  children  fittest  to  go  together. 

He  still  as  young  as  when  he  first  was  born  ; 
No  wiser  I,  than  when  as  young  as  he : 
You  that  behold  us,  laugh  us  not  to  scorn ; 
Give  Nature  thanks,  you  are  not  such  as  we ! 

Yet  fools  and  children  sometimes  tell  in  play, 

Some  wise  in  shew,  more  fools  indeed  than  they ! 


23. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  24),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ove  banished  heaven,  in  earth  was  held  in  scorn  ; 
Wand'ring  abroad  in  need  and  beggary : 
And  wanting  friends,  though  of  a  goddess  born, 
Yet  craved  the  alms  of  such  as  passed  by. 
I,  like  a  man  devout  and  charitable, 
Clothed  the  naked,  lodged  this  wandering  guest; 
With  sighs  and  tears  still  furnishing  his  table, 
With  what  might  make  the  miserable  blest. 
But  this  Ungrateful !  for  my  good  desert, 
Inticed  my  thoughts,  against  me  to  conspire; 
Who  gave  consent  to  steal  away  my  heart, 
And  set  my  breast  (his  lodging)  on  a  fire. 

Well,  well,  my  friends!  when  beggars  grow  thus  bold  ; 
No  marvel  then,  though  Charity  grow  cold. 


M.  Drayton." 
'594- 


lyton.n 
-1619.J 


Id  e  a. 


193 


24. 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  27),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Hear  some  say,  "This  man  is  not  in  love !  " 
"  Who  !  can  he  love  ?  a  likely  thing  !  "  they  say. 
"  Read  but  his  Verse,  and  it  will  easily  prove  !  " 
O,  judge  not  rashly,  gentle  Sir,  I  pray  ! 

Because  I  loosely  trifle  in  this  sort, 
As  one  that  fain  his  sorrows  would  beguile  : 
You  now  suppose  me,  all  this  time,  in  sport ; 
And  please  yourself  with  this  conceit  the  while. 

Ye  shallow  Censures  !  sometimes,  see  ye  not, 
In  greatest  perils,  some  men  pleasant  be ; 
Where  Fame  by  death  is  only  to  be  got, 
They  resolute !     So  stands  the  case  with  me. 

Where  other  men,  in  depth  of  Passion  cry  ; 

I  laugh  at  Fortune,  as  in  jest  to  die  I 


25. 

{First  printed  in  1599  (No.  25),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

,  Why  should  Nature  niggardly  restrain, 
That  foreign  nations  relish  not  our  tongue  ? 
Else  should  my  Lines  glide  on  the  waves  of  Rhine, 
And  crown  the  Pyren's  with  my  living  Song. 

But  bounded  thus,  to  Scotland  get  you  forth  ! 
Thence  take  you  wing  unto  the  Orcades  ! 
There  let  my  Verse  get  glory  in  the  north, 
Making  my  sighs  to  thaw  the  frozen  seas. 

And  let  the  Bards  within  that  Irish  isle, 
To  whom  my  Muse  with  fiery  wings  shall  pass, 
Call  back  the  stiff-necked  rebels  from  exile, 
And  mollify  the  slaughtering  Gallowglass  ! 

And  when  my  flowing  Numbers  they  rehearse, 

Let  wolves  and  bears  be  charmed  with  my  V< 


11. 


*94  Idea.  L^SSS 

26. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  37),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Despair. 

Ever  love,  where  never  Hope  appears, 

Yet  Hope  draws  on  my  never-hoping  care ; 

And  my  life's  Hope  would  die  but  for  Despair ; 
My  never-certain  joy  breeds  ever  certain  fears. 

Uncertain  dread  gives  wings  unto  my  Hope; 
Yet  my  Hope's  wings  are  laden  so  with  fear 
As  they  cannot  ascend  to  my  Hope's  sphere ; 
Though  fear  gives  them  more  than  a  heavenly  scope. 

Yet  this  large  room  is  bounded  with  Despair, 
So  my  Love  is  still  fettered  with  vain  Hope, 
And  liberty  deprives  him  of  his  scope, 
And  thus  am  I  imprisoned  in  the  air. 

Then,  sweet  Despair,  awhile  hold  up  thy  head  ! 

Or  all  my  Hope,  for  sorrow,  will  be  dead. 


27. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

S  not  Love  here,  as  'tis  in  other  climes  ? 
And  differeth  it,  as  do  the  several  nations? 
Or  hath  it  lost  the  virtue,  with  the  Times  ? 
Or  in  this  island  altereth  with  the  fashions  ? 

Or  have  our  Passions  lesser  power  than  theirs, 
Who  had  less  Art,  them  lively  to  express  ? 
Is  Nature  grown  less  powerful  in  their  heirs, 
Or  in  our  fathers,  did  she  more  transgress  ? 

I  am  sure,  my  sighs  come  from  a  heart  as  true 
As  any  man's  that  Memory  can  boast ! 
And  my  respects  and  services  to  you, 
Equal  with  his,  that  loves  his  Mistress  most ! 
Or  Nature  must  be  partial  in  my  cause, 
Or  only  You  do  violate  her  laws  ! 


"■£583  Idea.  195 

28. 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  31),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

O  such  as  say,  thy  Love  I  overprize, 
And  do  not  stick  to  term  my  praises,  folly ; 
Against  these  folks,  that  think  themselves  so  wise, 
I  thus  oppose  my  reason's  forces  wholly. 

Though  I  give  more  than  well  affords  my  state, 
In  which  expense,  the  most  suppose  me  vain 
(Which  yields  them  nothing,  at  the  easiest  rate), 
Yet,  at  this  price,  returns  me  treble  gain. 

They  value  not,  unskilful  how  to  use  ; 
And  I  give  much,  because  I  gain  thereby : 
I  that  thus  take,  or  they  that  thus  refuse ; 
Whether  are  these  deceived  then,  or  I  ? 

In  everything,  I  hold  this  maxim  still, 

The  circumstance  doth  make  it  good  or  ill. 


29. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  29),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Senses. 
Hen  conquering  Love  did  first  my  Heart  assail ; 
Unto  mine  aid  I  summoned  every  Sense : 
Doubting,  if  that  proud  tyrant  should  prevail, 
My  Heart  should  suffer  for  mine  eyes'  offence. 

But  he  with  beauty  first  corrupted  Sight, 
My  Hearing  bribed  with  her  tongue's  harmony, 
My  Taste  by  her  sweet  lips  drawn  with  delight, 
My  Smelling  won  with  her  breath's  spicery, 

But  when  my  Touching  came  to  play  his  part 
(The  King  of  Senses,  greater  than  the  rest), 
He  yields  Love  up  the  keys  unto  my  Heart ; 
And  tells  the  others,  how  they  should  be  blest. 

And  thus  by  those,  of  whom  I  hoped  for  aid  ; 

To  cruel  Love,  my  soul  was  first  betrayed. 


196 


Id 


E  A 


"M.  Drayton. 
.      159416:9. 


30. 

[Fi;<t  printed  in  1594  (No.  5),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Vestals. 

Hose  priests  which  first  the  Vestal  Fire  began, 
Which  might  be  borrowed  from  no  earthly  flame, 
Devised  a  vessel  to  receive  the  sun, 
Being  stedfastly  opposed  to  the  same  : 

Where,  with  sweet  wood,  laid  curiously  by  Art, 
On  which  the  sun  might  by  reflection  beat ; 
Receiving  strength  for  every  secret  part, 
The  fuel  kindled  with  celestial  heat. 

Thy  blessed  Eyes,  the  sun  which  lights  this  fire  ! 
My  holy  Thoughts,  they  be  the  Vestal  Flame  ! 
The  precious  odours  be  my  chaste  Desires  ! 
My  Breast's  the  vessel  which  includes  the  same! 

Thou  art  my  Vesta  !     Thou,  my  goddess  art ! 

Thy  hallowed  temple  only  is  my  Heart ! 

31. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  31),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  Critics. 

Ethinks,  I  see  some  crooked  Mimic  jeer, 
And  tax  my  Muse  with  this  fantastic  grace  ; 
Turning  my  papers,  asks,  "  What  have  we  here?" 
Making  withal  some  filthy  antic  face. 

I  fear  no  censure,  nor  what  thou  canst  say ! 
Nor  shall  my  spirit,  one  jot  of  vigour  lose  ! 
Think'st  thou,  my  Wit  shall  keep  the  packhorse  way, 
That  every  dudgen  low  Invention  goes  ? 

Since  Sonnets  thus  in  bundles  are  imprest, 
And  every  drudge  doth  dull  our  satiate  ear; 
Think'st  thou,  my  Love  shall  in  those  rags  be  drest, 
That  every  dowdy,  every  trull  doth  wear  ? 

Up  to  my  pitch,  no  common  judgement  flies ! 

I  scorn  all  earthly  dung-bred  scarabies  ' 


^SSSS  Idea.  197 

32. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  24),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  the  River  Ankor. 

Ur  floods'  Queen,  Thames,  for  ships  and  swans  is 

crowned ; 
And  stately  Severn,  for  her  shore  is  praised. 
The  crystal  Trent,  for  fords  and  fish  renowned ; 
And  Avon's  fame,  to  Albion's  cliffs  is  raised, 

Carlegion  Chester  vaunts  her  holy  Dee. 
York,  many  wonders,  of  her  Ouse  can  tell. 
The  Peak,  her  Dove,  whose  banks  so  fertile  be : 
And  Kent  will  say,  her  Medway  doth  excel. 

Cotswold  commends  her  Isis  to  the  Tame. 
Our  northern  borders  boast  of  Tweed's  fair  flood. 
Our  western  parts  extol  their  Wilis'  fame  ; 
And  the  old  Lea  brags  of  the  Danish  blood. 

Arden's  sweet  Ankor,  let  thy  glory  be, 

That  fair  Idea  only  lives  by  thee  ! 

33- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  33),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Imagination. 
Hilst  yet  mine  Eyes  do  surfeit  with  delight, 
My  woful  Heart  (imprisoned  in  my  breast) 
Wisheth  to  be  transformed  to  my  sight, 
That  it,  like  those,  by  looking,  might  be  blest. 

But  whilst  mine  Eyes  thus  greedily  do  gaze, 
Finding  their  objects  over-soon  depart; 
These  now  the  other's  happiness  do  praise, 
Wishing  themselves,  that  they  had  been  my  Heart. 

That  Eyes  were  Heart,  or  that  the  Heart  were  Eyes, 
As  covetous  the  other's  use  to  have. 
But  finding  Nature,  their  request  denies, 
This  to  each  other  mutually  they  crave. 

That  since  the  one  cannot  the  other  be, 

That  Eyes  could  think  of  that  my  Heart  could  see. 


i98  Idea.  [^S 

34- 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  34),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Admiration. 

Arvel  not,  Love  !  though  I  thy  power  admire  ! 
Ravished  a  world  beyond  the  farthest  thought, 
And  knowing  more,  than  ever  hath  been  taught, 
That  I  am  only  starved  in  my  Desire : 

Marvel  not,  Love  !  though  I  thy  power  admire  ! 
Aiming  at  things  exceeding  all  perfection ; 
To  Wisdom's  self  to  minister  direction, 
That  I  am  only  starved  in  my  Desire : 

Marvel  not,  Love  !  though  I  thy  power  admire  ! 
Though  my  Conceit  I  further  seem  to  bend 
Than  possibly  Invention  can  extend  ; 
And  yet  am  only  starved  in  my  Desire  : 

If  thou  wilt  wonder  !  here  's  the  wonder,  Love  ! 

That  this  to  me  doth  yet  no  wonder  prove. 

35- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  12),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Miracle. 
Ome  misbelieving  and  profane  in  Love, 
When  I  do  speak  of  miracles  by  thee, 
May  say,  that  thou  art  flattered  by  me  ; 
Who  only  write,  my  skill  in  Verse  to  prove. 

See  miracles  !  ye  Unbelieving,  see  ! 
A  dumb-born  Muse  made  to  express  the  mind  ! 
A  cripple  Hand  to  write,  yet  lame  by  kind  ! 
One  by  thy  name,  the  other  touching  thee. 

Blind  were  mine  eyes,  till  they  were  seen  of  thine ; 
And  mine  ears  deaf,  by  thy  fame  healed  be  : 
My  vices  cured  by  virtues  sprung  from  thee  ; 
My  hopes  revived,  which  long  in  grave  had  lien. 

All  unclean  thoughts  (foul  spirits)  cast  out  in  me, 

Only  by  virtue  that  proceeds  from  thee. 


M.  Drayton."!  I  D  B  A.  I  QQ 

1594-1612.  J  •?  ' 

36. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Cupid  conjured. 

Hou  purblind  Boy  !  since  thou  hast  been  so  slack 
To  wound  her  heart,  whose  eyes  have  wounded  me  ; 
And  suffered  her  to  glory  in  my  wrack : 
Thus  to  my  aid,  I  lastly  conjure  thee ! 

By  hellish  Styx  (by  which  the  Thunderer  swears)! 
By  thy  fair  Mother's  unavoidf  d  power  ! 
By  Hecate's  names  !  by  Proserpine's  sad  tears, 
When  she  was  rapt  to  the  infernal  bower ! 

By  thine  own  loved  Psyche's  !  by  the  fires 
Spent  on  thine  altars,  flaming  up  to  heaven  ! 
By  all  true  lovers'  sighs,  vows,  and  desires  ! 
By  all  the  wounds  that  ever  thou  hast  given  ! 

I  conjure  thee,  by  all  that  I  have  named, 

To  make  her  love  !  or,  Cupid,  be  thou  damned  ! 


37- 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  41),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ear  !  why  should  you  command  me  to  my  rest, 
When  now  the  night  doth  summon  all  to  sleep  ? 
Methinks,  this  time  becometh  lovers  best ! 
Night  was  ordained,  together  friends  to  keep. 

How  happy  are  all  other  living  things, 
Which,  through  the  day,  disjoined  by  several  flight, 
The  quiet  evening  yet  together  brings, 
And  each  returns  unto  his  Love  at  night ! 

O  thou  that  art  so  courteous  else  to  all, 
Why  shouldst  thou,  Night !  abuse  me  only  thus  ! 
That  every  creature  to  his  kind  dost  call, 
And  yet  'tis  thou  dost  only  sever  us  ? 

Well  could  I  wish,  it  would  be  ever  day ; 

If,  when  night  comes,  you  bid  me  go  away  ! 


200 


Idea 


[M.  Drayton. 
1594-1619. 


33. 
[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  31),  and  in  all  later  editions.! 

Itting  alone,  Love  bids  me  go  and  write ! 
Reason  plucks  back,  commanding  me  to  stay ! 
Boasting  that  She  doth  still  direct  the  way, 
Or  else  Love  were  unable  to  indite. 

Love  growing  angry,  vexed  at  the  spleen, 
And  scorning  Reason's  maimed  argument, 
Straight  taxeth  Reason,  wanting  to  invent 
Where  She  with  Love  conversing  hath  not  been. 

Reason  reproached  with  this  coy  disdain, 
Despiteth  Love,  and  laugheth  at  her  folly  : 
And  Love  contemning  Reason's  reason  wholly, 
Thought  it  in  weight  too  light  by  many  a  grain. 

Reason  put  back,  doth  out  of  sight  remove  ; 

And  Love  alone  picks  reason  out  of  love. 


39- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  18),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ome,  when  in  rhyme,  they  of  their  loves  do  tell  ; 
With  flames  and  lightnings  their  exordiums  paint. 
Some  call  on  heaven,  some  invocate  on  hell, 
And  Fates  and  Furies,  with  their  woes  acquaint. 

Elizium  is  too  high  a  seat  for  me. 
I  will  not  come  in  Styx  or  Phlegethon. 
The  thrice-three  Muses  but  too  wanton  be. 
Like  they  that  lust,  I  care  not,  I  will  none  ! 

Spiteful  Erinnys  frights  me  with  her  looks, 
My  manhood  dares  not,  with  foul  Ate  mell. 
I  quake  to  look  on  Hecate's  charming  books. 
I  still  fear  bugbears  in  Apollo's  cell. 

I  pass  not  for  Minerva  !  nor  Astrea  ! 

Only  I  call  on  my  divine  Idea  ! 


M.  Drayton."!  /    „ 

1 594-1619.  J  *    V  &   A  . 


20I 


40. 
[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  44),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

|Y  heart  the  Anvil  where  my  thoughts  do  beat; 
My  words  the  Hammers  fashioning  my  Desire ; 
My  breast  the  Forge  including  all  the  heat, 
Love  is  the  Fuel  which  maintains  the  fire. 
My  sighs  the  Bellows  which  the  flame  increaseth, 
Filling  mine  ears  with  noise  and  nightly  groaning. 
Toiling  with  pain,  my  labour  never  ceaseth  ; 
In  grievous  Passions,  my  woes  still  bemoaning. 

My  eyes  with  tears  against  the  fire  striving, 
Whose  scorching  glede,  my  heart  to  cinders  turneth 
But  with  those  drops,  the  flame  again  reviving 
Still  more  and  more  it,  to  my  torment  burneth. 
With  Sisyphus  thus  do  I  roll  the  stone, 
And  turn  the  wheel  with  damned  Ixion. 


41. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  43),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Love's  Lunacy. 
Hy  do  I  speak  of  joy,  or  write  of  love, 
When  my  heart  is  the  very  den  of  horror ; 
And  in  my  soul  the  pains  of  hell  I  prove, 
With  all  his  torments  and  infernal  terror  ? 

What  should  I  say  ?     What  yet  remains  to  do  ? 
My  brain  is  dry  with  weeping  all  too  long. 
My  sighs  be  spent  in  uttering  of  my  woe, 
And  I  want  words  wherewith  to  tell  my  wrong. 

But  still  distracted  in  Love's  lunacy, 
And  Bedlamlike,  thus  raving  in  my  grief. 
Now  rail  upon  her  hair,  then  on  her  eye, 
Now  call  her  "Goddess!"  then  I  call  her  "Thief!* 

Now  I  deny  her!  then  I  do  confess  her! 

Now  do  I  curse  her!  then  again  I  bless  her! 


2Q2  Idea.  FSSSg. 

42. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  2S),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ome  men  there  be,  which  like  my  method  well, 
And  much  commend  the  strangeness  of  my  vein. 
Some  say  I  have  a  passing  pleasing  strain, 
Some  say  that  in  my  humour  I  excel. 

Some,  who  not  kindly  relish  my  conceit, 
They  say,  as  poets  do  I  use  to  feign, 
And  in  bare  words  paint  out  my  Passions'  pain. 
Thus  sundry  men,  their  sundry  minds  repeat. 

I  pass  not,  I,  how  men  affected  be ! 
Nor  who  commends  or  discommends  my  Verse ! 
It  pleaseth  me,  if  I  my  woes  rehearse ! 
And  in  my  lines,  if  She,  my  love  may  see  ! 

Only  my  comfort  still  consists  in  this; 

Writing  her  praise,  I  cannot  write  amiss ! 


43- 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  43),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

J|Hy  should  your  fair  eyes,  with  such  sovereign  grace, 
Disperse  their  rays  on  every  vulgar  spirit, 
Whilst  I  in  darkness,  in  the  self-same  place, 
Get  not  one  glance  to  recompense  my  merit  ? 

So  doth  the  plowman  gaze  the  wandering  star, 
And  only  rest  contented  with  the  light ; 
That  never  learned  what  constellations  are, 
Beyond  the  bent  of  his  unknowing  sight. 

O  why  should  Beauty  (custom  to  obey), 
To  their  gross  sense  apply  herself  so  ill ! 
Would  God !  I  were  as  ignorant  as  they ! 
When  I  am  made  unhappy  by  my  skill ! 

Only  compelled  on  this  poor  good  to  boast, 

Heavens arenot  kind  to  them,thatknowthem most! 


M.  Drayton."] 
1594-1619.J 


Id 


E  A 


203 


44. 
[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  43),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Hilst  thus  my  pen  strives  to  eternize  thee, 
Age  rules  my  lines  with  wrinkles  in  my  face ; 
Where,  in  the  Map  of  all  my  Misery, 
Is  modelled  out  the  World  of  my  disgrace : 

Whilst  in  despite  of  tyrannizing  Times, 
MEDEAlike,  I  make  thee  young  again! 
Proudly  thou  scorn'st  my  world-outwearing  rhymes, 
And  murder'st  Virtue  with  thy  coy  disdain  ! 

And  though  in  youth,  my  youth  untimely  perish, 
To  keep  Thee  from  oblivion  and  the  grave ; 
Ensuing  Ages  yet  my  Rhymes  shall  cherish, 
Where  I  entombed,  my  better  part  shall  save ; 

And  though  this  earthly  body  fade  and  die, 

My  Name  shall  mount  upon  Eternity  ! 


45- 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  44),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Uses  !  which  sadly  sit  about  my  chair, 
Drowned  in  the  tears  extorted  by  my  lines  ; 
With  heavy  sighs,  whilst  thus  I  break  the  air, 
Painting  my  Passions  in  these  sad  designs. 

Since  She  disdains  to  bless  my  happy  Verse, 
The  strong  built  Trophies  to  her  living  fame, 
Ever  henceforth  my  bosom  be  your  hearse  ! 
Wherein  the  World  shall  now  entomb  her  name. 

Enclose  my  music,  you  poor  senseless  walls  ! 
Sith  She  is  deaf  and  will  not  hear  my  moans, 
Soften  yourselves  with  every  tear  that  falls ! 
Whilst  I,  like  Orpheus,  sing  to  trees  and  stones. 

Which  with  my  plaint  seem  yet  with  pity  moved, 

Kinder  than  She  whom  I  so  long  have  loved. 


204  Idea.  VSSSZ 

46. 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  46),  and  in  all  later  editions.) 

Lain  pathed  Experience  (th'  unlearned's  guide), 
Her  simple  followers  evidently  shews 
Sometimes  what  Schoolmen  scarcely  can  decide, 
Nor  yet  wise  Reason  absolutely  knows. 
In  making  trial  of  a  murder  wrought, 
If  the  vile  actors  of  the  heinous  deed 
Near  the  dead  body  happily  be  brought, 
Oft  't  hath  been  proved,  the  breathless  corse  will  bleed. 

She  coming  near,  that  my  poor  heart  hath  slain, 
Long  since  departed  (to  the  World  no  more), 
Th'  ancient  wounds  no  longer  can  contain, 
But  fall  to  bleeding,  as  they  did  before. 

But  what  of  this  !  Should  She  to  death  be  led, 
It  furthers  Justice ;  but  helps  not  the  dead  ! 


47- 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  47),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

N  pride  of  Wit,  when  high  desire  of  fame 
Gave  life  and  courage  to  my  lab'ring  pen, 
And  first  the  sound  and  virtue  of  my  name 
Won  grace  and  credit  in  the  ears  of  men  ; 
With  those,  the  thronged  Theatres  that  press, 
I  in  the  Circuit  for  the  laurel  strove ! 
Where  the  full  praise,  I  freely  must  confess, 
In  heat  of  blood,  a  modest  mind  might  move. 
With  shouts  and  claps  at  every  little  pause, 
When  the  proud  Round  on  every  side  hath  rung ; 
Sadly  I  sit,  unmoved  with  the  applause, 
As  though  to  me  it  nothing  did  belong. 
No  public  glory  vainly  I  pursue  : 
All  that  I  seek  is  to  eternize  vou  ! 


"SEgl  Idea.  205 

48. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Upid,  I  hate  thee  !  which  I'd  have  thee  know  ! 

A  naked  starveling  ever  mayst  thou  be  ! 

Poor  rogue  !  go  pawn  thy  fascia  and  thy  bow 

For  some  poor  rags,  wherewith  to  cover  thee  ! 

Or  if  thou  'It  not,  thy  archery  forbear! 
To  some  base  rustic  do  thyself  prefer  ! 
And  when  the  corn  's  sown,  or  grown  into  the  ear; 
Practice  thy  quiver,  and  turn  crowkeeper  ! 

Or  being  blind,  as  fittest  for  the  trade, 
Go  hire  thyself  some  bungling  harper's  boy  ! 
They  that  are  blind  are  minstrels  often  made  ! 
So  mayst  thou  live,  to  thy  fair  mother's  joy ! 

That  whilst  with  Mars  she  holdeth  her  old  way, 

Thou,  her  blind  son,  mayst  sit  by  them  and  play. 


49. 

[First  printed  in  1559  (No.  46),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Hou  leaden  brain,  which  censur'st  what  I  write, 
And  sayst  my  lines  be  dull,  and  do  not  move. 
I  marvel  not  thou  feelst  not  my  Delight, 
Which  never  felt'st  my  fiery  touch  of  Love  ! 
But  thou,  whose  pen  hath  like  a  packhorse  served, 
Whose  stomach  unto  gall  hath  turned  thy  food, 
Whose  senses,  like  poor  prisoners,  hunger  starved, 
Whose  grief  hath  parched  thy  body,  dried  thy  blood. 

Thou  which  hast  scorned  life,  and  hated  death  ; 
And  in  a  moment,  mad,  sober,  glad,  and  sorry  ; 
Thou  which  hast  banned  thy  thoughts,  and  curst  thy  birth, 
With  thousand  plagues  more  than  in  Purgatory  : 
Thou,  thus  whose  spirit,  Love  in  his  fire  refines  ! 
Come  thou  and  read,  admire,  applaud  my  Lines! 


2o6  Idea.  PASSES 

50. 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  50),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

S  IN  some  countries,  far  remote  from  hence, 
The  wretched  creature  destined  to  die ; 
Having  the  judgement  due  to  his  offence, 
By  Surgeons  begged,  their  Art  on  him  to  try  : 
Which  on  the  living,  work  without  remorse, 
First  make  incision  on  each  mastering  vein, 
Then  staunch  the  bleeding,  then  transpierce  the  corse, 
And  with  their  balms  recure  the  wounds  again. 

Then  poison,  and  with  physic  him  restore ; 
Not  that  they  fear  the  hopeless  man  to  kill, 
But  their  experience  to  increase  the  more. 
Even  so  my  Mistress  works  upon  my  ill, 
By  curing  me  and  killing  me  each  hour, 
Only  to  shew  her  Beauty's  sovereign  power. 


5i. 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  51),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Alling  to  mind  since  first  my  Love  begun, 
The  uncertain  Times,  oft  varying  in  their  course ; 
How  things  still  unexpectedly  have  run, 
As  it  please  the  Fates,  by  their  resistless  force. 
Lastly,  mine  eyes  amazedly  have  seen 
Essex's  great  fall !  Tyrone  his  peace  to  gain  ! 
The  quiet  end  of  that  long  living  Queen  ! 
This  King's  fair  Entrance  !  and  our  peace  with  Spain  ! 

We  and  the  Dutch  at  length  ourselves  to  sever ! 
Thus  the  World  doth  and  evermore  shall  reel : 
Yet  to  my  goddess  am  I  constant  ever ! 
Howe'er  blind  Fortune  turn  her  giddy  wheel, 

Though  heaven  and  earth  prove  both  to  me  untrue, 
Yet  am  I  still  inviolate  to  You ! 


M.  Drayton."] 
1594-1619.J 


Id  e  a 


207 


52. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Hat  dost  thou  mean,  to  cheat  me  of  my  heart  ? 
To  take  all  mine,  and  give  me  none  again  ? 
Or  have  thine  eyes  such  magic,  or  that  Art 
That  what  they  get,  they  ever  do  retain  ? 
Play  not  the  Tyrant,  but  take  some  remorse ! 
Rebate  thy  spleen,  if  but  for  pity's  sake  ! 
Or  cruel,  if  thou  can'st  not,  let  us  scorse ! 
And  for  one  piece  of  thine,  my  whole  heart  take ! 

But  what  of  pity,  do  I  speak  to  thee ! 
Whose  breast  is  proof  against  complaint  or  prayer : 
Or  can  I  think  what  my  reward  shall  be 
From  that  proud  Beauty,  which  was  my  betrayer ! 
What  talk  I  of  a  heart,  when  thou  hast  none ! 
Or  if  thou  hast,  it  is  a  flinty  one. 


53- 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  13),  and  in  all  later  editions. 

Another  to  the  river  Ankor. 

Lear  Ankor,  on  whose  silver-sanded  shore, 
My  soul-shrined  Saint,  my  fair  Idea  lives ; 
O  blessed  brook !  whose  milk-white  swans  adore 
Thy  crystal  stream,  refined  by  her  eyes. 
Where  sweet  myrrh-breathing  Zephyr,  in  the  Spring, 
Gently  distils  his  nectar-dropping  showers  : 
Where  nightingales  in  Arden  sit  and  sing 
Amongst  the  dainty  dew-impearled  flowers. 

Say  thus,  fair  brook,  when  thou  shalt  see  thy  Queen, 
"  Lo,  here  thy  shepherd  spent  his  wandering  years  ! 
And  in  these  shades,  dear  Nymph !  he  oft  hath  been  ! 
And  here  to  thee,  he  sacrificed  his  tears !  " 
Fair  Arden,  thou  my  Tempe  art  alone ! 
And  thou,  sweet  Ankor,  art  my  Helicon  ! 


2oS  Idea.  [^X 

54- 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  49),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Et  read  at  last  the  Story  of  my  Woe ! 
The  dreary  abstracts  of  my  endiess  cares, 
With  my  life's  sorrow  interlined  so, 
Smoked  with  my  sighs,  and  blotted  with  my  tears. 
The  sad  Memorials  of  my  Miseries  ! 
Penned  in  the  grief  of  mine  afflicted  ghost. 
My  Life's  Complaint  in  doleful  Elegies  ! 
With  so  pure  love  as  Time  could  never  boast. 

Receive  the  incense  which  I  offer  here, 
By  my  strong  faith  ascending  to  thy  fame  ! 
My  zeal,  my  hope,  my  vows,  my  praise,  my  prayer, 
My  soul's  oblations  to  thy  sacred  Name  ! 

Which  Name,  my  Muse,  to  highest  heavens  shall  raise, 
By  chaste  Desire,  true  Love,  and  virtuous  Praise ! 


55- 

[First  printed  in  1509  (No.  50),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

|Y  Fair!  if  thou  wilt  register  my  Love, 
A  world  of  volumes  shall  thereof  arise  ! 
Preserve  my  Tears,  and  thou  thyself  shall  prove 
A  second  Flood,  down  raining  from  mine  eyes ! 
Note  but  my  Sighs,  and  thine  eyes  shall  behold 
The  sunbeams  smothered  with  immortal  smoke ! 
And  if  by  thee,  my  Prayers  may  be  enrolled ; 
They,  heaven  and  earth  to  pity  shall  provoke ! 

Look  thou  into  my  breast,  and  thou  shalt  see 
Chaste  holy  vows  for  my  soul's  sacrifice  ! 
That  soul,  sweet  Maid !  which  so  hath  honoured  thee, 
Erecting  Trophies  to  thy  sacred  eyes. 
Those  eyes  to  my  heart  shining  ever  bright, 
When  darkness  hath  obscured  each  other  light. 


M.  Drayton."]  /  n 

1594-1619.J  IDEA, 


209 


56. 
[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  3),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

An  allusion  to  the  Eaglets. 

iSjilHEN  like  an  Eaglet,  I  first  found  my  love, 
k«a    For  tnat  the  vn'tue  I  thereof  would  know, 
Lfcl    Upon  the  nest  I  set  it  forth,  to  prove 
If  it  were  of  that  kingly  kind  or  no  : 

But  it  no  sooner  saw  my  sun  appear, 
But  on  her  rays  with  open  eyes  it  stood  ; 
To  shew  that  I  had  hatched  it  for  the  air, 
And  rightly  came  from  that  brave-mounting  brood. 

And  when  the  plumes  were  sunned  with  sweet  Desire, 
To  prove  the  pinions,  it  ascends  the  skies  ! 
Do  what  I  could,  it  needsly  would  aspire 
To  my  soul's  sun,  those  two  celestial  Eyes. 

Thus  from  my  breast,  where  it  was  bred  alone, 

It  after  thee  is,  like  an  Eaglet  flown. 


57- 

[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  57),  and  in  all  later  editions.l 

Ou  best  discerned  of  my  mind's  inward  eyes, 
And  yet  your  graces  outwardly  Divine, 
Whose  dear  remembrance  in  my  bosom  lies, 
Too  rich  a  relic  for  so  poor  a  shrine. 
You,  in  whom  Nature  chose  herself  to  view, 
When  she,  her  own  perfection  would  admire ; 
Bestowing  all  her  excellence  on  you, 
At  whose  pure  eyes,  Love  lights  his  hallowed  fire ; 

Even  as  a  man  that  in  some  trance  hath  seen 
More  than  his  wondring  utterance  can  unfold  ; 
That,  rapt  in  spirit,  in  better  worlds  hath  been. 
So  must  your  praise  distractedly  be  told  ! 

Most  of  all  short,  when  I  would  shew  you  most, 
In  your  perfections  so  much  am  I  lost. 


2IO 


Id  e  a  . 


[M.  Drayton. 
1594-1619. 


58. 
[First  printed  in  1605  (No.  58),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

N  former  times,  such  as  had  store  of  coin, 
In  wars  at  home,  or  when  for  conquests  bound, 
For  fear  that  some  their  treasure  should  purloin, 
Gave  it,  to  keep,  to  Spirits  within  the  ground  : 

And  to  attend  it,  them  as  strongly  tied, 
Till  they  returned.     Home  when  they  never  came, 
Such  as  by  Art  to  get  the  same  have  tried, 
From  the  strong  Spirit,  by  no  means  force  the  same. 

Nearer  men  come,  that  further  flies  away  ! 
Striving  to  hold  it  strongly  in  the  deep. 
Even  as  this  Spirit,  so  you  alone  do  play 
With  those  rich  beauties,  Heaven  gives  you  to  keep. 

Pity  so  left  to  the  coldness  of  your  blood, 

Not  to  avail  you,  nor  do  others  good. 


59- 

[First  printed  in  1602  (No.  58),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

To  Proverbs. 

S  Love  and  I  late  harboured  in  one  inn, 
With  Proverbs  thus  each  other  entertain. 
In  Love  there  is  no  lack,  thus  I  begin  : 
Fair  words  make  fools,  replieth  he  again. 

Who  spares  to  speak,  doth  spare  to  speed,  quoth  I. 
As  well,  saith  he,  too  forward  as  too  slow. 
Fortune  assists  the  boldest,  I  reply. 
A  hasty  man,  quoth  he,  ne'er  wanted  woe  ! 

Labour  is  light,  where  Love,  quoth  I,  doth  pay. 
Saith  he,  Light  burden  's  heavy,  if  far  born. 
Quoth  I,  The  Main  lost,  cast  the  By  away  ! 
You  have  spun  a  fair  thread,  he  replies  in  scorn. 

And  having  thus  awhile  each  other  thwarted, 

Fools  as  we  met,  so  fools  again  we  parted. 


M.  Drayton. "J 
1594-1619.J 


Id  e  a. 


21 1 


60. 

[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  49),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Efine  my  Weal,  and  tell  the  joys  of  heaven  ; 
Express  my  Woes,  and  shew  the  pains  of  hell ! 
Declare  what  Fate  unlucky  stars  have  given ! 
And  ask  a  world  upon  my  life  to  dwell ! 
Make  known  the  faith  that  Fortune  could  not  move  ! 
Compare  my  worth  with  others'  base  desert! 
Let  virtue  be  the  touchstone  of  my  Love  ! 
So  may  the  heavens  read  wonders  in  my  heart ! 

Behold  the  clouds  which  have  eclipsed  my  sun ! 
And  view  the  crosses  which  my  course  do  let ! 
Tell  me,  if  ever  since  the  world  begun 
So  fair  a  rising,  had  so  foul  a  set? 

And  see,  if  TIME  (if  he  would  strive  to  prove) 
Can  shew  a  Second  to  so  pure  a  Love  1 


61. 

[First  printed  in  1619.] 

Ince  there  's  no  help,  Come,  let  us  kiss  and  part ! 
Nay,  I  have  done.     You  get  no  more  of  me  ! 
And  I  am  glad,  yea,  glad,  with  all  my  heart, 
That  thus  so  cleanly,  I  my  self  can  free. 
Shake  hands  for  ever !  Cancel  all  our  vows ! 
And  when  we  meet  at  any  time  again, 
Be  it  not  seen  in  either  of  our  brows, 
That  we  one  jot  of  former  love  retain  ! 

Now  at  the  last  gasp  of  Love's  latest  breath. 
When  his  pulse  failing,  Passion  speechless  lies  ; 
When  Faith  is  kneeling  by  his  bed  of  death, 
And  Innocence  is  closing  up  his  eyes  : 

Now,  if  thou  wouldst !  when  all  have  given  him  over, 
From  death  to  life,  thou  might'st  him  yet  recover  I 


2i2  Idea.  [MI?rv 


1594-1619 


62. 


[First  printed  in  1594  (No.  50),  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Hen  first  I  ended,  then  I  first  began  ; 
Then  more  I  travelled  further  from  my  rest. 
Where  most  I  lost,  there  most  of  all  I  wan ; 
Pined  with  hunger,  rising  from  a  feast. 
Methinks,  I  fly,  yet  want  I  legs  to  go ; 
Wise  in  conceit,  in  act  a  very  sot. 
Ravished  with  joy  amidst  a  hell  of  woe  ; 
What  most  I  seem  that  surest  am  I  not. 

I  build  my  hopes,  a  world  above  the  sky ; 
Yet  with  the  mole  I  creep  into  the  earth. 
In  plenty  I  am  starved  with  penury  ; 
And  yet  I  surfeit  in  the  greatest  dearth. 
I  have,  I  want ;  despair,  and  yet  desire  : 
Burned  in  a  sea  of  ice,  and  drowned  amidst  a  fire. 

63. 

[First  printed  in  1599  (No.  55X  and  in  all  later  editions.] 

Ruce,  gentle  Love !  a  Parley  now  I  crave  I 
Methinks,  'tis  long  since  first  these  wars  begun. 
Nor  thou,  nor  I,  the  better  yet  can  have  ! 
Bad  is  the  match,  where  neither  party  won. 

I  offer  free  Conditions  of  fair  Peace  ! 
My  heart  for  hostage  that  it  shall  remain. 
Discharge  our  forces  !     Here,  let  malice  cease  ! 
So  for  my  pledge,  thou  give  me  pledge  again. 

Or  if  no  thing  but  death  will  serve  thy  turn, 
Still  thirsting  for  subversion  of  my  State, 
Do  what  thou  canst  !  raze  !  massacre  !  and  burn 
Let  the  World  see  the  utmost  of  thy  hate  ! 

I  send  Defiance  !  since  if  overthrown, 

Thou  vanquishing,  the  conquest  is  mine  own  ! 

FINIS. 


AMORETTI 

AND 

Epithalamion. 
JVritten  not  long  Jince 

by    Edmunde 
Spenfer, 


Woodcut  of 
the  publisher's 

trade-mark 

with  his  motto : 

Veritas  tua  et 

usque  ad 

nubes. 


Printed   for  William 
Ponfonby.      1595. 


TO   THE   RIGHT   WORSHIPFUL 


SIR    ROBERT    NEEDHAM,    KNIGHT. 


Ir,  to  gratulate  your  safe  return  from  Ire- 
land, I  had  nothing  so  ready,  nor  thought 
anything  so  meet,  as  these  sweet  conceited 
Sonnets,  the  deed  of  that  well-deserving 
gentleman,  Master  Edmond  Spenser  : 
whose  name  sufficiently  warranting  the 
worthiness  of  the  work,  I  do  more  confidently  presume  to 
publish  it  in  his  absence,  under  your  name,  to  whom  (in  my 
poor  opinion)  the  patronage  thereof  doth  in  some  respects 
properly  appertain.  For,  besides  your  judgment  and  delight 
in  learned  poesy,  this  gentle  Muse,  for  her  former  perfection 
long  wished  for  in  England,  now  at  the  length  crossing  the 
seas  in  your  happy  company  (though  to  yourself  unknown) 
seemeth  to  make  choice  of  you,  as  meetest  to  give  her 
deserved  countenance,  after  her  return  :  entertain  her,  then, 
Right  worshipful,  in  sort  best  beseeming  your  gentle  mind, 
and  her  merit,  and  take  in  worth  my  goodwill  herein,  who 
seek  no  more  but  to  show  myself  yours  in  all  dutiful  affection. 

\V.  P. 


To  the  ^Author. 


Ark  is  the  day,  when  P/uv  bus'  face  is  shrouded, 
And  weaker  sights  may  wander  soon  astray  : 
But,  when  they  see  his  glorious  rays  unclouded, 
With  steady  steps  they  keep  the  perfect  zvay  : 
So,  while  this  Muse  in  foreign  lands  doth  stay, 
Invention  zveeps,  and  pens  are  cast  aside ; 
The  time,  like  night,  deprived  of  cheerful  day  ; 
And  few  do  write,  but  {ah!)  too  soon  may  slide. 
Then,  hie  thee  home,  that  art  our  perfect  guide, 
And  with  thy  wit  illustrate  England's  fame, 
Daunting  thereby  our  neighbours'  ancient  pride, 
That  do,  for  poesy,  challenge  chief  est  name : 
So  we  that  live,  and  ages  that  succeed, 
With  great  applause  thy  learned  works  shall  read. 

G.  W.  Senior. 


\H  !  Colin,  whether  on  the  lowly  plain, 

Piping  to  shepherds  thy  sweet  roundelays  .* 
Or  whether  singing,  in  some  lofty  vein, 
Heroic  deeds  of  past  or  pre  se  tit  days  ; 
Or  whether  in  thy  lovely  mistress'  praise, 
Thou  list  to  exercise  thy  learned  quill; 
Thy  muse  hath  got  such  grace  and  power  to  please, 
With  rare  invention,  beautified  by  skill, 
As  who  therein  can  ever  joy  their  fill ! 
O  !  therefore  let  that  happy  muse  proceed 
To  climb  the  height  of  Virtue's  sacred  hill, 
Where  endless  honour  shall  be  made  thy  meed: 
Because  no  malice  of  succeeding  days 
Can  raze  those  records  of  thy  lasting  praise. 

G.  W. 


SONNET    I. 

|  APPY,  ye  leaves !  when  as  those  lily  hands, 

Which  hold  my  life  in  their  dead-doing  might, 
Shall  handle  you,  and  hold  in  love's  soft  bands. 
Like  captives  trembling  at  the  victor's  sight. 
And  happy  lines  !  on  which,  with  starry  light, 
Those  lamping  eyes  will  deign  sometimes  to  look, 
And  read  the  sorrows  of  my  dying  spright, 
Written  with  tears  in  heart's  close-bleeding  book. 
And  happy  rhymes  !  bath'd  in  the  sacred  brook 
Of  Helicon,  whence  she  derived  is  ; 
When  ye  behold  that  Angel's  blessed  look, 
My  soul's  long-lacked  food,  my  heaven's  bliss; 

Leaves,  lines,  and  rhymes,  seek  her  to  please  alone, 
Whom  if  ye  please,  I  care  for  other  none  ! 


m 

I 

SONNET    II. 

Nquiet  thought!  whom  at  the  first  I  bred 
Of  th'  inward  bale  of  my  love-pined  heart ; 
And  sithens  have  with  sighs  and  sorrows  fed, 
Till  greater  than  my  womb  thou  woxen  art : 
Break  forth  at  length  out  of  the  inner  part, 
In  which  thou  lurkest  like  to  viper's  brood  ; 
And  seek  some  succour  both  to  ease  my  smart, 
And  also  to  sustain  thyself  with  food. 
But,  if  in  presence  of  that  fairest  proud 
Thou  chance  to  come,  fall  lowly  at  her  feet ; 
And,  with  meek  humbless  and  afflicted  mood, 
Pardon  for  thee,  and  grace  for  me,  entreat : 

Which  if  she  grant,  then  live,  and  my  love  cherish: 
If  not,  die  soon  ;  and  I  with  thee  will  perish. 


2i8      Amoretti  and   E pith ala mion.  rF"SpTQeL 
SONNET    III. 

He  sovereign  beauty  which  I  do  admire, 

Witness  the  world  how  worthy  to  be  praised ! 
The  light  whereof  hath  kindled  heavenly  fire 
In  my  frail  spirit,  by  her  from  baseness  raised  ; 
That,  being  now  with  her  huge  brightness  dazed, 
Base  thing  I  can  no  more  endure  to  view: 
But,  looking  still  on  her,  I  stand  amazed 
At  wondrous  sight  of  so  celestial  hue. 
So  when  my  tongue  would  speak  her  praises  due, 
It  stopped  is  with  thought's  astonishment  ; 
And,  when  my  pen  would  write  her  titles  true, 
It  ravished  is  with  fancy's  wonderment : 

Yet  in  my  heart  I  then  both  speak  and  write 
The  wonder  that  my  wit  cannot  endite. 


SONNET    IV. 

Ew  year,  forth  looking  out  of  Janus'  gate, 
Doth  seem  to  promise  hope  of  new  delight : 
And,  bidding  th'  old  Adieu,  his  passed  date 
Bids  all  old  thoughts  to  die  in  dumpish  spright 
And,  calling  forth  out  of  sad  winter's  night 
Fresh  Love,  that  long  hath  slept  in  cheerless  bower, 
Wills  him  awake,  and  soon  about  him  dight 
His  wanton  wings  and  darts  of  deadly  power. 
For  lusty  Spring  now  in  his  timely  hour 
Is  ready  to  come  forth,  him  to  receive ; 
And  warns  the  earth  with  divers-coloured  flower 
To  deck  herself,  and  her  fair  mantle  weave. 

Then  you,  fair  flower !  in  whom  fresh  youth  doth  reign, 
Prepare  yourself  new  love  to  entertain. 


E.  Spenser.  -J    AmORETTI    AND     E  P  IT  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.  2IO, 

SONNET    V. 

]Udely  thou  wrongest  my  dear  heart's  desire, 
In  finding  fault  with  her  too  portly  pride : 
The  thing  which  I  do  most  in  her  admire, 
Is  of  the  world  unworthy  most  envied  : 
For  in  those  lofty  looks  is  close  implied 
Scorn  of  base  things,  and  'sdain  of  foul  dishonour: 
Threatening  rash  eyes  which  gaze  on  her  so  wide, 
That  loosely  they  ne  dare  to  look  upon  her. 
Such  pride  is  praise ;  such  portliness  is  honour; 
That  bolden'd  innocence  bears  in  her  eyes ; 
And  her  fair  countenance,  like  a  goodly  banner, 
Spreads  in  defiance  of  all  enemies. 

Was  never  in  this  world  aught  worthy  tried, 
Without  some  spark  of  such  self-pleasing  pride. 


SONNET    VI. 

E  NAUGHT  dismayed  that  her  unmoved  mind 
Doth  still  persist  in  her  rebellious  pride  : 
Such  love,  not  like  to  lusts  of  baser  kind, 
The  harder  won,  the  firmer  will  abide. 
The  dureful  oak,  whose  sap  is  not  yet  dried, 
Is  long  ere  it  conceive  the  kindling  fire ; 
But,  when  it  once  doth  burn,  it  doth  divide 
Great  heat,  and  makes  his  flames  to  heaven  aspire. 
So  hard  it  is  to  kindle  new  desire 
In  gentle  breast,  that  shall  endure  for  ever : 
Deep  is  the  wound,  that  dints  the  parts  entire 
With  chaste  affects  that  naught  but  death  can  sever; 
Then  think  not  long  in  taking  little  pain 
To  knit  the  knot,  that  ever  shall  remain. 


220      Amoretti  and   E ' r/THALA mion.  [ESpT5S95: 
SON  N  E  T    VI  I. 

Air  eyes  !  the  mirror  of  my  mazed  heart, 
What  wondrous  virtue  is  contained  in  you, 
The  which  both  life  and  death  forth  from  you 
dart, 

Into  the  object  of  your  mighty  view? 
For,  when  ye  mildly  look  with  lovely  hue, 
Then  is  my  soul  with  life  and  love  inspired  : 
But  when  ye  lower,  or  look  on  me  askew, 
Then  do  I  die,  as  one  with  lightning  fired. 
But,  since  that  life  is  more  than  death  desired, 
Look  ever  lovely,  as  becomes  you  best ; 
That  your  bright  beams,  of  my  weak  eyes  admired, 
May  kindle  living  fire  within  my  breast. 

Such  life  should  be  the  honour  of  your  light, 
Such  death  the  sad  ensample  of  your  might. 


SONNET    VIII. 

ORE  than  most  fair,  full  of  the  living  fire, 
Kindled  above  unto  the  Maker  near  ; 
Xo  eyes  but  joys,  in  which  all  powers  conspire, 
That  to  the  world  naught  else  be  counted  dear; 
Through  your  bright  beams  doth  not  the  blinded  guest 
Shoot  out  his  darts  to  base  affections  wound  ; 
But  Angels  come  to  lead  frail  minds  to  rest 
In  chaste  desires,  on  heavenly  beauty  bound. 
You  frame  my  thoughts,  and  fashion  me  within  ; 
You  stop  my  tongue,  and  teach  my  heart  to  speak  ; 
You  calm  the  storm  that  passion  did  begin, 
Strong  through  your  cause,  but  by  your  virtue  weak. 
Dark  is  the  world,  where  your  light  shined  never; 
Well  is  he  born,  that  may  behold  you  ever. 


E.  Spenser.]    AmORETTj    AND     EPITHALAMION. 


2  2  1 


SONNET    IX. 

ONG-while  I  sought  to  what  I  might  compare 
Those   powerful   eyes,  which   lighten   my  dark 

spright ; 
Yet  find  I  naught  on  earth,  to  which  I  dare 
Resemble  th'  image  of  their  goodly  light. 
Not  to  the  Sun  ;  for  they  do  shine  by  night ; 
Nor  to  the  Moon  ;  for  they  are  changed  never ; 
Nor  to  the  Stars  ;  for  they  have  purer  sight ; 
Nor  to  the  Fire  ;  for  they  consume  not  ever  ; 
Nor  to  the  Lightning;  for  they  still  persever ; 
Nor  to  the  Diamond ;  for  they  are  more  tender  ; 
Nor  unto  Crystal  ;  for  nought  may  them  sever; 
Nor  unto  Glass  ;  such  baseness  mought  offend  her. 
Then  to  the  Maker  self  they  likest  be, 
Whose  light  doth  lighten  all  that  here  we  see. 


SONNET    X. 

NRIGHTEOUS  lord  of  love,  what  law  is  this, 
That  me  thou  makest  thus  tormented  be, 
The  whiles  she  lordeth  in  licentious  bliss 
Of  her  freewill,  scorning  both  thee  and  me? 
See!  how  the  tyranness  doth  joy  to  see 
The  huge  massacres  which  her  eyes  do  make  ; 
And  humbled  hearts  brings  captive  unto  thee, 
That  thou  of  them  mayst  mighty  vengeance  take, 
But  her  proud  heart  do  thou  a  little  shake, 
And  that  high  look,  with  which  she  doth  control 
All  this  world's  pride,  bow  to  a  baser  make, 
And  all  her  faults  in  thy  black  book  enroll: 
That  I  may  laugh  at  her  in  equal  sort, 
As  she  doth  laugh  at  me,  and  makes  my  pain  her  sport 


222         AMORETTI    AND     E  P I T  H  A  LA  M 1 0  N.    [E"  Sp"JJ 

SONNET    XI. 

AlLY  when  I  do  seek  and  sue  for  peace, 
And  hostages  do  offer  for  my  truth  ; 
She,  cruel  warrior,  doth  herself  address 
To  battle,  and  the  weary  war  renew'th ; 
Ne  will  be  moved  with  reason,  or  with  ruth, 
To  grant  small  respite  to  my  restless  toil ; 
But  greedily  her  fell  intent  pursu'th, 
Of  my  poor  life  to  make  unpitied  spoil. 
Yet  my  poor  life,  all  sorrows  to  assoil, 
I  would  her  yield,  her  wrath  to  pacify  : 
But  then  she  seeks,  with  torment  and  turmoil, 
To  force  me  live,  and  will  not  let  me  die. 

All  pain  hath  end,  and  every  war  hath  peace ; 
But  mine,  no  price  nor  prayer  may  surcease. 


SONNET    XII. 

Ne  day  I  sought  with  her  heart-thrilling  eyes 
To  make  a  truce,  and  terms  to  entertain  : 
All  fearless  then  of  so  false  enemies, 
Which  sought  me  to  entrap  in  treason's  train. 
So,  as  I  then  disarmed  did  remain, 
A  wicked  ambush  which  lay  hidden  long 
In  the  close  covert  of  her  guileful  eyen, 
Thence  breaking  forth,  did  thick  about  me  throng. 
Too  feeble  I  t' abide  the  brunt  so  strong, 
Was  forced  to  yield  myself  into  their  hands; 
Who,  me  captiving  straight  with  rigorous  wrong, 
Have  ever  since  me  kept  in  cruel  bands. 
So,  Lady,  now  to  you  I  do  complain, 
Against  your  eyes,  that  justice  I  may  gain. 


E.  Spenser.  ]    AmORETTI    AND     E  P I T II A  L  A  M 1 0  N.  223 

SONNET    XIII. 

N  that  proud  port,  which  her  so  goodly  graceth, 
Whiles  her  fair  face  she  rears  up  to  the  sky, 
And  to  the  ground  her  eye-lids  low  embaseth, 
Most  goodly  temperature  ye  may  descry  ; 
Mild  humbless,  mixed  with  awful  majesty. 
For,  looking  on  the  earth  whence  she  was  born, 
Her  mind  remember'th  her  mortality, 
Whatso  is  fairest  shall  to  earth  return. 
But  that  same  lofty  countenance  seems  to  scorn 
Base  thing,  and  think  how  she  to  heaven  may  climb; 
Treading  down  earth  as  loathsome  and  forlorn, 
That  hinders  heavenly  thoughts  with  drossy  slime. 
Yet  lowly  still  vouchsafe  to  look  on  me; 
Such  lowliness  shall  make  you  lofty  be. 


SONNET    XIV. 

ETURN  again,  my  forces  late  dismayed, 
Unto  the  siege  by  you  abandon'd  quite. 
Great  shame  it  is  to  leave,  like  one  afraid. 
So  fair  a  piece,  for  one  repulse  so  light. 
'Gainst  such  strong  castles  needeth  greater  might 
Than  those  small  forts  which  ye  were  wont  belay: 
Such  haughty  minds,  enur'd  to  hardy  fight, 
Disdain  to  yield  unto  the  first  assay. 
Bring  therefore  all  the  forces  that  ye  may, 
And  lay  incessant  battery  to  her  heart ; 
Plaints,  prayers,  vows,  ruth,  sorrow,  and  dismay  ; 
Those  engines  can  the  proudest  love  convert: 
And,  if  those  fail,  fall  down  and  die  before  her ; 
So  dying  live,  and  living  do  adore  her. 


224      Amoretti  and   E pitiialamion.  [ESpe"5s|5. 
SONNET    XV. 

E  tradeful  Merchants,  that,  with  weary  toil, 
Do  seek  most  precious  things  to   make   your 

gain; 
And  both  the  Indias  of  their  treasure  spoil ; 
What  needeth  you  to  seek  so  far  in  vain  ? 
For  lo,  my  love  doth  in  her  self  contain 
All  this  world's  riches  that  may  far  be  found : 
If  sapphires,  lo,  her  eyes  be  sapphires  plain  ; 
If  rubies,  lo,  her  lips  be  rubies  sound  ; 
If  pearls,  her  teeth  be  pearls,  both  pure  and  round  ; 
If  ivory,  her  forehead  ivory  ween  ; 
If  gold,  her  locks  are  finest  gold  on  ground  ; 
If  silver,  her  fair  hands  are  silver  sheen  : 
But  that  which  fairest  is,  but  few  behold, 
Her  mind  adorned  with  virtues  manifold. 


SONNET    XVI. 

|Ne  day  as  I  unwarily  did  gaze 

On  those  fair  eyes,  my  love's  immortal  light; 
The  whiles  my  'stonish'd  heart  stood  in  amaze, 
Through  sweet  illusion  of  her  look's  delight; 
I  mote  perceive  how,  in  her  glancing  sight, 
Legions  of  loves  with  little  wings  did  fly  ; 
Darting  their  deadly  arrows,  fiery  bright, 
At  every  rash  beholder  passing  by. 
One  of  those  archers  closely  I  did  spy, 
Aiming  his  arrow  at  my  very  heart : 
When  suddenly,  with  twinkle  of  her  eye, 
The  Damsel  broke  his  misintended  dart. 
Had  she  not  so  done,  sure  I  had  been  slain  ; 
Yet  as  it  was,  I  hardly  scap'd  with  pain. 


E.  Spenser.  J    AmORETTI    AND     E  P I TH  A  LA  MI  ON.         2  25 


SONNET    XVII. 

He  glorious  portrait  of  that  Angel's  face, 
Made  to  amaze  weak  men's  confused  skill, 
And  this  world's  worthless  glory  to  embase, 
What  pen,  what  pencil,  can  express  her  fill? 
For,  though  he  colours  could  devise  at  will, 
And  eke  his  learned  hand  at  pleasure  guide, 
Lest,  trembling,  it  his  workmanship  should  spill ; 
Yet  many  wondrous  things  there  are  beside : 
The  sweet  eye-glances,  that  like  arrows  glide; 
The  charming  smiles,  that  rob  sense  from  the  heart; 
The  lovely  pleasance  ;  and  the  lofty  pride  ; 
Cannot  expressed  be  by  any  art. 

A  greater  craftsman's  hand  thereto  doth  need. 
That  can  express  the  life  of  things  indeed. 


SONNET    XVII  I. 

He  rolling  wheel  that  runneth  often  round, 
The  hardest  steel,,  in  tract  of  time  doth  tear : 
And  drizzling  drops,  that  often  do  redound, 
The  firmest  flint  doth  in  continuance  wear : 
Yet  cannot  I,  with  many  a  dropping  tear 
And  long  entreaty,  soften  her  hard  heart ; 
That  she  will  once  vouchsafe  my  plaint  to  hear, 
Or  look  with  pity  on  my  painful  smart; 
But,  when  I  plead,  she  bids  me  play  my  part ; 
And,  when  I  weep,  she  says,  "  Tears  are  but  water," 
And,  when  I  sigh,  she  says,  "  I  know  the  art "  ; 
And,  when  I  wail,  she  turns  her  self  to  laughter. 
So  do  I  weep,  and  wail,  and  plead  in  vain, 
Whiles  she  as  steel  and  flint  doth  still  remain. 
II.  P  < 


2  26         A  MO  RETT  I    AND     EpiTHALAMION.    [El  Spe^£ 


> 


SONNET    XIX. 

He  merry  cuckoo,  messenger  of  spring, 

His  trumpet  shrill  hath  thrice  already  sounded, 
That  warns  all  lovers  wait  upon  their  king, 
Who  now  is  coming  forth  with  garland  crowned. 
With  noise  whereof  the  choir  of  birds  resounded, 
Their  anthems  sweet,  devised  of  love's  praise, 
That  all  the  woods  their  echoes  back  rebounded, 
As  if  they  knew  the  meaning  of  their  lays. 
But  'mongst  them  all,  which  did  love's  honour  raise. 
No  word  was  heard  of  her  that  most  it  ought; 
But  she  his  precept  proudly  disobeys, 
And  doth  his  idle  message  set  at  naught. 
Therefore,  O  love,  unless  she  turn  to  thee 
Ere  cuckoo  end,  let  her  a  rebel  be ! 


SONNET    XX. 

N  vain  I  seek  and  sue  to  her  for  grace, 

And  do  mine  humbled  heart  before  her  pour; 
The  whiles  her  foot  she  in  my  neck  doth  place, 
And  tread  my  life  down  in  the  lowly  flower. 
And  yet  the  lion  that  is  lord  of  power, 
And  reigneth  over  every  beast  in  field, 
In  his  most  pride  disdaineth  to  devour 
The  silly  lamb  that  to  his  might  doth  yield. 
But  she,  more  cruel,  and  more  savage  wild, 
Than  either  lion  or  the  lioness, 
Shames  not  to  be  with  guiltless  blood  defiled, 
But  taketh  glory  in  her  cruelness. 

Fairer  than  fairest !  let  none  ever  say, 
That  ye  were  blooded  in  a  yielded  prey. 


E.  Spenser.]    AmORETTI    AND     E  P I T  H  A  LA  M 1 0  N.         227 

SONNET    XXI. 

As  it  the  work  of  nature  or  of  art, 

Which  tempered  so  the  feature  of  her  face, 
That   pride   and    meekness,   mixed    by   equal 
part, 

Do  both  appear  t'adorn  her  beauty's  grace  ? 
For  with  mild  pleasance,  which  doth  pride  displace, 
She  to  her  love  doth  lookers'  eyes  allure  ; 
And,  with  stern  countenance,  back  again  doth  chase 
Their  looser  looks  that  stir  up  lusts  impure ; 
With  such  strange  terms  her  eyes  she  doth  inure, 
That,  with  one  look,  she  doth  my  life  dismay; 
And  with  another  doth  it  straight  recure; 
Her  smile  me  draws  ;  her  frown  me  drives  away. 
Thus  doth  she  train  and  teach  me  with  her  looks ; 
Such  art  of  eyes  I  never  read  in  books  ! 


SONNET    XXII. 

His  holy  season,  fit  to  fast  and  pray, 
Men  to  devotion  ought  to  be  inclined: 
Therefore,  I  likewise,  on  so  holy  day, 
For  my  sweet  saint  some  service  fit  will  find. 
Her  temple  fair  is  built  within  my  mind, 
In  which  her  glorious  image  placed  is, 
On  which  my  thoughts  do  day  and  night  attend, 
Like  sacred  priests  that  never  think  amiss! 
There  I  to  her,  as  th'  author  of  my  bliss, 
Will  build  an  altar  to  appease  her  ire ; 
And  on  the  same  my  heart  will  sacrifice, 
Burning  in  flames  of  pure  and  chaste  desire : 
The  which  vouchsafe,  O  goddess,  to  accept, 
Amongst  thy  dearest  relics  to  be  kept. 


2  28         A  MO  RETT  I    AND     E  PIT  HA  LA  MION.    [E-  sPeinset; 

SONNET    XXIII. 

En  elope,  for  her  Ulysses'  sake, 

Devis'd  a  web  her  wooers  to  deceive  ; 
In  which  the  work  that  she  all  day  did  make, 
The  same  at  night  she  did  again  unreave : 
Such  subtle  craft  my  damsel  doth  conceive, 
Th'  importune  suit  of  my  desire  to  shun  : 
For  all  that  I  in  many  days  do  weave, 
In  one  short  hour  I  find  by  her  undone. 
So,  when  I  think  to  end  that  I  begun, 
I  must  begin  and  never  bring  to  end  : 
For  with  one  look  she  spills  that  long  I  spun  ; 
And  with  one  word  my  whole  year's  work  doth  rend. 
Such  labour  like  the  spider's  web  I  find, 
Whose  fruitless  work  is  broken  with  least  wind. 


SONNET    XXIV. 

Hen  I  bejiold  that  beauty's  wonderment, 
And  rare  perfection  of  each  goodly  part ; 
Of  nature's  skill  the  only  complement; 
I  honour  and  admire  the  Maker's  art. 
But  when  I  feel  the  bitter,  baleful  smart, 
Which  her  fair  eyes  unwares  do  work  in  me, 
That  death  out  of  their  shiny  beams  do  dart ; 
I  think  that  I  a  new  Pandora  see, 
Whom  all  the  Gods  in  council  did  agree 
Into  this  sinful  world  from  heaven  to  send  ; 
That  she  to  wicked  men  a  scourge  should  be, 
For  all  their  faults  with  which  they  did  offend. 
But,  since  ye  are  my  scourge,  I  will  entreat, 
That  for  my  faults  ye  will  me  gently  beat. 


E.Spense,]     AmOXETTI     and      £  P I  T  H  A  L  A  At  I  0 


N. 


229 


SONNET    XXV. 

Ow  long  shall  this  like  dying  life  endure, 
And  know  no  end  of  her  own  misery, 
But  waste  and  wear  away  in  terms  unsure, 
'Twixt  fear  and  hope  depending  doubtfully  ? 
Yet  better  were  at  once  to  let  me  die, 
And  shew  the  last  ensample  of  your  pride ; 
Than  to  torment  me  thus  with  cruelty, 
To  prove  your  power,  which  I  too  well  have  tried. 
But  yet  if  in  your  hardened  breast  ye  hide 
A  close  intent  at  last  to  shew  me  grace  ; 
Then  all  the  woes  and  wrecks  which  I  abide, 
As  means  of  bliss  I  gladly  will  embrace  ; 

And  wish  that  more  and  greater  they  might  be, 
That  greater  meed  at  last  may  turn  to  me. 


SONNET    XXVI. 

WEET  is  the  rose,  but  grows  upon  a  briar ; 
Sweet  is  the  juniper,  but  sharp  his  bough  ; 
Sweet  is  the  eglantine,  but  pricketh  near  ; 
Sweet    is    the   fir-bloom,   but    his    branch 
rough ; 
Sweet  is  the  cypress,  but  his  rind  is  tough; 
Sweet  is  the  nut,  but  bitter  is  his  pill ; 
Sweet  is  the  broom-flower,  but  yet  sour  enough  ; 
And  sweet  is  moly,  but  his  root  is  ill. 
So  every  sweet  with  sour  is  tempered  still, 
That  maketh  it  be  coveted  the  more  : 
For  easy  things,  that  may  be  got  at  will, 
Most  sorts  of  men  do  set  but  little  store. 
Why  then  should  I  account  of  little  pain, 
That  endless  pleasure  shall  unto  me  gain  ! 


IS 


230      Amorbtti  and   Epithalamion.  [E  SpTss9cs: 
SONNET    XXVII. 

AlR    Proud !    now   tell    me,  why  should   fair   be 
proud, 
Sith  all  world's  glory  is  but  dross  unclean, 
And  in  the  shade  of  death  itself  shall  shroud, 
However  now  thereof  ye  little  ween  ! 
That  goodly  idol,  now  so  gay  beseen, 
Shall  doff  her  flesh's  borrow'd  fair  attire, 
And  be  forgot  as  it  had  never  been, 
That  many  now  much  worship  and  admire  ! 
Ne  any  then  shall  after  it  inquire, 
Ne  any  mention  shall  thereof  remain, 
But  what  this  verse,  that  never  shall  expire, 
Shall  to  your  purchase  with  her  thankless  pain  ! 
Fair  !  be  no  longer  proud  of  that  shall  perish  ; 
But  that,  which  shall  you  make  immortal,  cherish. 


til  ""^saB 

m  eg 


SONNET    XXVIII. 

He  laurel-leaf,  which  you  this  day  do  wear, 
Gives  me  great  hope  of  your  relenting  mind 
For  since  it  is  the  badge  which  I  do  bear, 
Ye,  bearing  it,  do  seem  to  me  inclin'd  : 
The  power  thereof,  which  oft  in  me  I  find, 
Let  it  likewise  your  gentle  breast  inspire 
With  sweet  infusion,  and  put  you  in  mind 
Of  that  proud  maid,  whom  now  those  leaves  attire, — 
Proud  Daphne,  scorning  Phoebus'  lovely  fire, 
On  the  Thessalian  shore  from  him  did  fly : 
For  which  the  gods,  in  their  revengeful  ire, 
Did  her  transform  into  a  laurel-tree. 

Then  fly  no  more,  fair  Love,  from  Phoebus'  chase, 
But  in  your  breast  his  leaf  and  love  embrace. 


K.  Spenser.-]    A  MO  RETT  I    AND     E  P I  T  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.  23  1 

SONNET    XXIX. 

Ee  !  how  the  stubborn  damsel  doth  deprave 
My  simple  meaning  with  disdainful  scorn  ; 
And  by  the  bay,  which  I  unto  her  gave, 
Accounts  myself  her  captive  quite  forlorn. 
The  bay  (quoth  she)  is  of  the  victors  born, 
Yielded  them  by  the  vanquish'd  as  their  meeds, 
And  they  therewith  do  poets'  heads  adorn, 
To  sing  the  glory  of  their  famous  deeds. 
But  sith  she  will  the  conquest  challenge  needs, 
Let  her  accept  me  as  her  faithful  thrall  ; 
That  her  great  triumph,  which  my  skill  exceeds, 
I  may  in  trump  of  fame  blaze  over  all. 

Then  would  I  deck  her  head  with  glorious  bays, 
And  fill  the  world  with  her  victorious  praise. 


SONNET    XXX. 

Y  LOVE  is  like  to  ice,  and  I  to  fire  ; 

How  comes  it  then  that  this  her  cold  so  great 
Is  not  dissolv'd  through  my  so  hot  desire, 
But  harder  grows  the  more  I  her  entreat? 
Or  how  comes  it  that  my  exceeding  heat 
Is  not  delay'd  by  her  heart-frozen  cold  ; 
But  that  I  burn  much  more  in  boiling  sweat, 
And  feel  my  flames  augmented  manifold  ! 
What  more  miraculous  thing  may  be  told, 
That  fire,  which  all  things  melts,  should  harden  ice  ; 
And  ice,  which  is  congeal'd  with  senseless  cold, 
Should  kindle  fire  by  wonderful  device ! 
Such  is  the  power  of  love  in  gentle  mind, 
That  it  can  alter  all  the  course  of  kind. 


enser. 
595- 


232      Amoretti  and   E pith alam ion.  [R-sPe; 
SONNET    XXXI. 

H  !  why  hath  nature  to  so  hard  a  heart 
Given  so  goodly  gifts  of  beauty's  grace  ! 
Whose  pride  depraves  each  other  better  part, 
And  all  those  precious  ornaments  deface. 
Sith  to  all  other  beasts  of  bloody  race 
A  dreadful  countenance  she  given  hath ; 
That  with  their  terror  all  the  rest  may  chase, 
And  warn  to  shun  the  danger  of  their  wrath. 
But  my  proud  one  doth  work  the  greater  scathe, 
Through  sweet  allurement  of  her  lovely  hue  ; 
That  she  the  better  may  in  bloody  bath 
Of  such  poor  thralls  her  cruel  hands  embrue. 
But,  did  she  know  how  ill  these  two  accord, 
Such  cruelty  she  would  have  soon  abhor'd. 


SONNET    XXXII. 

He  painful  smith,  with  force  of  fervent  heat, 
The  hardest  iron  soon  doth  mollify; 
That  with  his  heavy  sledge  he  can  it  beat, 
And  fashion  to  what  he  it  list  apply. 
Yet  cannot  all  these  flames,  in  which  I  fry, 
Her  heart  more  hard  than  iron  soft  a  whit ; 
Ne  all  the  plaints  and  prayers,  with  which  I 
Do  beat  on  th'  anvil  of  her  stubborn  wit 
But  still,  the  more  she  fervent  sees  my  fit, 
The  more  she  freezeth  in  her  wilful  pride  ; 
And  harder  grows,  the  harder  she  is  smit 
With  all  the  plaints  which  to  her  be  applied. 
What  then  remains  but  I  to  ashes  burn, 
And  she  to  stones  at  length  all  frozen  turn  ! 


E.SPensjr.j    A  MO  RET  TI    AND     EriTHALAMlON.  2\ 

SONNET    XXXIII. 

JReat  wrong  I  do,  I  can  it  not  deny, 

To  that  most  sacred  Empress,  my  dear  dread, 
Not  finishing  her  Queen  of  Faery, 
That  mote  enlarge  her  living  praises,  dead. 
But  Lodwick,  this  of  grace  to  me  aread  ; 
Do  ye  not  think  th'  accomplishment  of  it 
Sufficient  work  for  one  man's  simple  head, 
All  were  it,  as  the  rest,  but  rudely  writ? 
How  then  should  I,  without  another  wit, 
Think  ever  to  endure  so  tedious  toil ! 
Sith  that  this  one  is  toss'd  with  troublous  fit 
Of  a  proud  love,  that  doth  my  spirit  spoil. 

Cease  then,  till  she  vouchsafe  to  grant  me  rest ; 
Or  lend  you  me  another  living  breast. 


SONNET    XXXIV. 

Ike  as  a  ship,  that  through  the  ocean  wide. 
By  conduct  of  some  star,  doth  make  her  way; 
When  as  a  storm  hath  dim'd  her  trusty  guide 
Out  of  her  course  doth  wander  far  astray  ! 
So  I,  whose  star,  that  wont  with  her  bright  ray 
Me  to  direct,  with  clouds  is  over-cast, 
Do  wander  now,  in  darkness  and  dismay, 
Through  hidden  perils  round  about  me  placed  ; 
Yet  hope  I  well  that,  when  this  storm  is  past, 
My  Helice,  the  loadstar  of  my  life, 
Will  shine  again,  and  look  on  me  at  last, 
With  lovely  light  to  clear  my  cloudy  grief, 
Till  then  I  wander  careful,  comfortless, 
In  secret  sorrow,  and  sad  pensiveness. 


- 


234      Amoretti  and   Epithalamion.  [ESpeInjgs: 

SONNET    XXXV. 

Y  HUNGRY  eyes,  through  greedy  covetise 
Still  to  behold  the  object  of  their  pain, 
With  no  contentment  can  themselves  suffice  ; 
But,  having,  pine  ;  and,  having  not,  complain. 
For,  lacking  it,  they  cannot  life  sustain  ; 
And,  having  it,  they  gaze  on  it  the  more ; 
In  their  amazement  like  Narcissus  vain, 
Whose  eyes  him  starv'd  :  so  plenty  makes  me  poor. 
Yet  are  mine  eyes  so  filled  with  the  store 
Of  that  fair  sight,  that  nothing  else  they  brook, 
But  loathe  the  things  which  they  did  like  before, 
And  can  no  more  endure  on  them  to  look. 
All  this  world's  glory  seemeth  vain  to  me, 
And  all  their  shows  but  shadows,  saving  she. 


SONNET    XXXVI. 

Ell  me,  when  shall  these  weary  woes  have  end, 
Or  shall  their  ruthless  torment  never  cease  ; 
But  all  my  days  in  pining  languor  spend, 
Without  hope  of  assuagement  or  release  ? 
Is  there  no  means  for  me  to  purchase  peace, 
Or  make  agreement  with  her  thrilling  eyes  ; 
But  that  their  cruelty  doth  still  increase, 
And  daily  more  augment  my  miseries  ? 
But,  when  ye  have  shown  all  extremities, 
Then  think  how  little  glory  ye  have  gained 
By  slaying  him,  whose  life,  though  ye  despise, 
Might  have  your  life  in  honour  long  maintained. 
But  by  his  death,  which  some  perhaps  will  moan, 
Ye  shall  condemned  be  of  many  a  one. 


E.  Spenser,  j    A  MO  RETT  I    AND     E  P I T  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.         235 

SONNET    XXXVII. 

Hat  guile  is  this,  that  those  her  golden  tresses 
She  doth  attire  under  a  net  of  gold  ; 
And  with  sly  skill  so  cunningly  them  dresses, 
That  which  is  gold,  or  hair,  may  scarce  be  told  ? 
Is  it  that  men's  frail  eyes,  which  gaze  too  bold, 
She  may  entangle  in  that  golden  snare ; 
And,  being  caught,  may  craftily  enfold 
Their  weaker  hearts,  which  are  not  well  aware  ? 
Take  heed,  therefore,  mine  eyes,  how  ye  do  stare 
Henceforth  too  rashly  on  that  guileful  net, 
In  which,  if  ever  ye  entrapped  are, 
Out  of  her  bands  ye  by  no  means  shall  get. 
Fondness  it  were  for  any,  being  free, 
To  covet  fetters,  though  they  golden  be ! 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

RlON,  when,  through  tempest's  cruel  wrack, 
He  forth  was  thrown  into  the  greedy  seas ; 
Through  the  sweet  music,  which  his  harp  did 
make, 

Allur'd  a  dolphin  him  from  death  to  ease. 
But  my  rude  music,  which  was  wont  to  please 
Some  dainty  ears,  cannot,  with  any  skill, 
The  dreadful  tempest  of  her  wrath  appease, 
Nor  move  the  dolphin  from  her  stubborn  will, 
But  in  her  pride  she  doth  persever  still, 
All  careless  how  my  life  for  her  decays  : 
Yet  with  one  word  she  can  it  save  or  spill. 
To  spill  were  pity,  but  to  save  were  praise  ! 
Choose  rather  to  be  praised  for  doing  good, 
Than  to  be  blam'd  for  spilling  guiltless  blood. 


2^,6         slMOKETTI    AND     EriTHALAMION.    ["■  Spe?* 


SONNET    XXXIX. 

W'i.ET  smile!  the  daughter  of  the  Queen  of  Love, 
Expressing  all  thy  mother's  powerful  art. 
With  which  she  wonts  to  temper  angry  Jove, 
When  all  the  gods  he  threats  with  thundering 
dart : 
Sweet  is  thy  virtue,  as  thy  self  sweet  art. 
For,  when  on  me  thou  shined'st  late  in  sadness, 
A  melting  pleasance  ran  through  every  part, 
And  me  revived  with  heart-robbing  gladness, 
Whilst  rapt  with  joy  resembling  heavenly  madness, 
My  soul  was  ravish'd  quite  as  in  a  trance  ; 
And,  feeling  thence,  no  more  her  sorrow's  sadness, 
Fed  on  the  fulness  of  that  cheerful  glance, 
More  sweet  than  nectar,  or  ambrosial  meat, 
Seem'd  every  bit  which  thenceforth  I  did  eat. 


SONNET    XL. 


Ark  when  she  smiles  with  amiable  cheer, 
And  tell  me  whereto  can  ye  liken  it ; 
When  on  each  eyelid  sweetly  do  appear 
An  hundred  graces  as  in  shade  to  sit. 
Likest  it  seemeth,  in  my  simple  wit, 
Unto  the  fair  sunshine  in  summer's  day; 
That,  when  a  dreadful  storm  away  is  flit, 
Through  the  broad  world  doth  spread  his  goodly  ray ; 
At  sight  whereof,  each  bird  that  sits  on  spray, 
And  every  beast  that  to  his  den  was  fled, 
Comes  forth  afresh  out  of  their  late  dismay, 
And  to  the  light  lift  up  their  drooping  head. 
So  my  storm-beaten  heart  likewise  is  cheered 
With  that  sunshine,  when  cloudy  looks  are  cleared. 


E.  Spenser. j    ^MORETTI    AND     EPITHALAMION.         237 

SONNET     XL  I. 

S  IT  her  nature,  or  is  it  her  will, 
To  be  so  cruel  to  an  humbled  foe  ? 
If  nature;  then  she  may  it  mend  with  skill : 
If  will ;  then  she  at  will  may  will  forego. 
But  if  her  nature  and  her  will  be  so, 
That  she  will  plague  the  man  that  loves  her  most, 
And  take  delight  t'  increase  a  wretch's  woe  ; 
Then  all  her  nature's  goodly  gifts  are  lost: 
And  that  same  glorious  beauty's  idle  boast 
Is  but  a  bait  such  wretches  to  beguile, 
As,  being  long  in  her  love's  tempest  toss'd, 
She  means  at  last  to  make  her  piteous  spoil. 
O  fairest  fair !  let  never  it  be  named, 
That  so  fair  beauty  was  so  foully  shamed. 


SONNET    XLII. 

He  love  which  me  so  cruelly  tormentcth, 
So  pleasing  is  in  my  extremest  pain, 
That,  all  the  more  my  sorrow  it  augmenteth, 
The  more  I  love  and  do  embrace  my  banc. 
Ne  do  I  wish  (for  wishing  were  but  vain) 
To  be  acquit  fro  my  continual  smart; 
But  joy,  her  thrall  for  ever  to  remain, 
And  yield  for  pledge  my  poor  captived  heart; 
The  which,  that  it  from  her  may  never  start, 
Let  her,  if  please  her,  bind  with  adamant  chain  : 
And  from  all  wandering  loves,  which  mote  pervert 
His  safe  assurance,  strongly  it  restrain. 
Only  let  her  abstain  from  cruelty, 
And  do  me  not  before  my  time  to  die. 


238       Amoretti  and    E pith a  la  mi on.  [E'Sp^' 
SONNET    XLIII. 

Hall  I  then  silent  be,  or  shall  I  speak  ? 
And,  if  I  speak,  her  wrath  renew  I  shall ; 
And,  if  I  silent  be,  my  heart  will  break, 
Or  choked  be  with  overflowing  gall. 
What  tyranny  is  this,  both  my  heart  to  thrall, 
And  eke  my  tongue  with  proud  restraint  to  tie ; 
That  neither  I  may  speak  nor  think  at  all, 
But  like  a  stupid  stock  in  silence  die ! 
Yet  I  my  heart  with  silence  secretly 
Will  teach  to  speak,  and  my  just  cause  to  plead  ; 
And  eke  mine  eyes,  with  meek  humility, 
Love-learned  letters  to  her  eyes  to  read  ; 

Which  her  deep  wit,  that  true  heart's  thought  can  spell, 
Will  soon  conceive,  and  learn  to  construe  well. 


SONNET    XLIV. 

HEN  those  renowned  noble  Peers  of  Greece, 
Through  stubborn  pride,  amongst  themselves 

did  jar, 
Forgetful  of  the  famous  golden  fleece  ; 
The:  -  us  with  his  harp  their  strife  did  bar. 

But  this  continual,  cruel,  civil  war, 
The  which  my  self  against  my  self  do  make; 
Whilst  my  weak  powers  of  passions  warred  are ; 
No  skill  can  stint,  nor  reason  can  aslake. 
But,  when  in  hand  my  tuneless  harp  I  take, 
Then  do  I  more  augment  my  foes'  despite ; 
And  grief  renew,  and  passions  do  awake 
To  battle,  fresh  against  my  self  to  fight. 

1 1  :ngst  whom  the  more  I  seek  to  settle  peace, 
The  more  I  find  their  malice  to  increase. 


\  A:::,  i..;   am    z.?:thala   :;:::        .  ■ 
SONNET      :: 


A'.z      \  .  - 

Your  goodly  self  for  evermore  to  view : 

z 

-  : 

,. .    . 

Th  r.g  e:  ih  ir.e  ::  vit—  ::'  eir:hh.   eye 
T  . .  :  : 'i  :  '  :  t  --  ::';■;.::  e .  t : :  l    hue 
Ar.h  every  pir:  :    ~~  - 

And  were  it  not  that,  through  your  cm 

:  ~  ':  ■:     • 
The  g    -i.      ~  \~t     .     .    -       -    - 
hheire:  :hir.  :ryi:i!    ■-  ;-.:  :he:eir   i:;:i: 

But,  if  yourself  in  r.:     e  pi  iin  will  see, 

?.e~  ;    e  ;he  :i-£e  :;      ::±y:::  :'i.r  heirr.i  iir-ier.e:  :e 


s : :      it   : ;  i    : 


-  ■■ . . ._ 


But  tl 


lins:  he: 

I,  or  heaven  or  1 

hes:  •   hi:  . :  :he  ::;:  :': :  r.e 
h    ;e  ".h  ~y  hfe  f :  :h  s?  ly. 
per:":  ::e  rr.  -::  he. 

■ 

: : :    =    :  - . ;       :  i :  -: 
Enough  it  is  for  or.e  man  to  : 
The  e  : :  rrr. :   -  h  i :  h  ;  h  e  ire  :  r  rre  : : :  r  n  r 


..       ..      2 r  .". r 2.    r  7 

.     ;  . 

I  ::  •  e  h  rh  hei' 

■ 

-           _::::- 

.  -  e : : e 

- 

'  ~  ~  ; 

. = 

240      Amoretti  and   Epithalamion.  [ESpe"5sg 
SONNET    XLVII. 

RUST  not  the  treason  of  those  smiling  looks, 
Until  ye  have  their  guileful  trains  well  tried  : 
For  they  are  like  but  unto  golden  hooks, 
That  from  the  foolish  fish  their  baits  do  hide : 
So  she  with  flattering  smiles  weak  hearts  doth  guide 
Unto  her  love,  and  tempt  to  their  decay; 
Whom,  being  caught,  she  kills  with  cruel  pride, 
And  feeds  at  pleasure  on  the  wretched  prey : 
Yet,  even  whilst  her  bloody  hands  them  slay, 
Her  eyes  look  lovely,  and  upon  them  smile ; 
That  they  take  pleasure  in  her  cruel  play, 
And,  dying,  do  themselves  of  pain  beguile. 

O  mighty  charm  !  which  makes  men  love  their  bane, 
And  think  they  die  with  pleasure,  live  with  pain. 


SONNET    XLVII  I. 

NNOCENT  paper;  whom  too  cruel  hand 
Did  make  the  matter  to  avenge  her  ire: 
And,  ere  she  could  thy  cause  well  understand, 
Did  sacrifice  unto  the  greedy  fire. 
Well  worthy  thou  to  have  found  better  hire, 
Than  so  bad  end  for  heretics  ordained  ; 
Yet  heresy  nor  treason  didst  conspire, 
But  plead  thy  master's  cause,  unjustly  pained. 
Whom  she,  all  careless  of  his  grief,  constrained 
To  utter  forth  the  anguish  of  his  heart : 
And  would  not  hear,  when  he  to  her  complained 
The  piteous  passion  of  his  dying  smart. 
Yet  live  for  ever,  though  against  her  will, 
And  speak  her  good,  though  she  requite  it  ill. 


E.  Spenser."]    AmORETTI    AND    E  P I T  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.         24 1 

SONNET    XLIX. 

AlR  cruel !  why  are  ye  so  fierce  and  cruel  ? 
Is  it  because  your  eyes  have  power  to  kill? 
Then  know  that  mercy  is  the  Mighty's  jewel  : 
And  greater  glory  think,  to  save  than  spill. 
But  if  it  be  your  pleasure,  and  proud  will, 
To  shew  the  power  of  your  imperious  eyes  ; 
Then  not  on  him  that  never  thought  you  ill, 
But  bend  your  force  against  your  enemies  : 
Let  them  feel  th'  utmost  of  your  cruelties  ; 
And  kill  with  looks,  as  cockatrices  do : 
But  him,  that  at  your  footstool  humbled  lies, 
With  merciful  regard  give  mercy  to. 

Such  mercy  shall  you  make  admir'd  to  be ; 
So  shall  you  live,  by  giving  life  to  me. 


SONNET    L. 

Ong  languishing  in  double  malady 

Of  my  heart's  wound,  and  of  my  body's  grief; 
There  came  to  me  a  leech,  that  would  apply 
Fit  medicines  for  my  body's  best  relief. 
Vain  man,  quoth  I,  that  hast  but  little  prief 
In  deep  discovery  of  the  mind's  disease  ; 
Is  not  the  heart  of  all  the  body  chief, 
And  rules  the  members  as  itself  doth  please? 
Then,  with  some  cordials,  seek  first  to  appease 
The  inward  languor  of  my  wounded  heart, 
And  then  my  body  shall  have  shortly  ease  : 
But  such  sweet  cordials  pass  physician's  art. 
Then,  my  life's  leech  !  do  your  skill  reveal ; 
And,  with  one  salve,  both  heart  and  body  heal. 
II.  Q  9 


242         AMOKETTI    AND     E PITH ALA  MION.    [E*  Sp^ 

SONNET    LI. 

JO  I  not  see  that  fairest  images 

Of  hardest  marble  are  of  purpose  made, 
For   that   they   should    endure   through  many 
ages, 

Ne  let  their  famous  monuments  to  fade? 
Why  then  do  I,  untrained  in  lover's  trade, 
Her  hardness  blame,  which  I  should  more  commend  ? 
Sith  never  aught  was  excellent  assayed 
Which  was  not  hard  t'  achieve  and  bring  to  end. 
Ne  aught  so  hard,  but  he,  that  would  attend, 
Mote  soften  it  and  to  his  will  allure : 
So  do  I  hope  her  stubborn  heart  to  bend, 
And  that  it  then  more  steadfast  will  endure: 
Only  my  pains  will  be  the  more  to  get  her; 
But,  having  her,  my  joy  will  be  the  greater. 


SONNET    LII. 

O  OFT  as  homeward  I  from  her  depart, 
I  go  like  one  that,  having  lost  the  field, 
Is  prisoner  led  away  with  heavy  heart, 
Despoiled  of  warlike  arms  and  knowen  shield. 
So  do  I  now  myself  a  prisoner  yield 
To  sorrow  and  to  solitary  pain  ; 
From  presence  of  my  dearest  dear  exiled, 
Long-while  alone  in  languor  to  remain. 
There  let  no  thought  of  joy,  or  pleasure  vain, 
Dare  to  approach,  that  may  my  solace  breed  ; 
But  sudden  dumps,  and  dreary  sad  disdain 
Of  all  world's  gladness,  more  my  torment  feed. 
So  I  her  absence  will  my  penance  make, 
That  of  her  presence  I  my  meed  may  take. 


JEcp  )| 

OK 

K.  Spenser. j    AjMORETTI    AND     EPITHALAMION.  243 

SONNET    LI  1 1. 

He  Panther,  knowing  that  his  spotted  hide 
Doth  please  all  beasts,  but  that  his  looks  them 

fray; 
Within  a  bush  his  dreadful  head  doth  hide, 
To  let  them  gaze,  whilst  he  on  them  may  prey : 
Right  so  my  cruel  fair  with  me  doth  play  ; 
For,  with  the  goodly  semblance  of  her  hue, 
She  doth  allure  me  to  mine  own  decay, 
And  then  no  mercy  will  unto  me  shew. 
Great  shame  it  is,  thing  so  divine  in  view, 
Made  for  to  be  the  world's  most  ornament, 
To  make  the  bait  her  gazers  to  embrue : 
Good  shames  to  be  to  ill  an  instrument ! 
But  mercy  doth  with  beauty  best  agree, 
As  in  their  Maker  ye  them  best  may  see. 


SONNET   LIV. 

F  THIS  world's  theatre  in  which  we  stay, 
My  love  like  the  spectator,  idly  sits  ; 
Beholding  me,  that  all  the  pageants  play, 
Disguising  diversely  my  troubled  wits. 
Sometimes  I  joy  when  glad  occasion  fits, 
And  mask  in  mirth  like  to  a  comedy : 
Soon  after,  when  my  joy  to  sorrow  flits, 
I  wail,  and  make  my  woes  a  tragedy. 
Yet  she,  beholding  me  with  constant  eye, 
Delights  not  in  my  mirth,  nor  rues  my  smart: 
But,  when  I  laugh,  she  mocks  ;  and,  when  I  cry, 
She  laughs,  and  hardens  evermore  her  heart. 

What  then  can  move  her?  if  nor  mirth  nor  moan, 
She  is  no  woman,  but  a  senseless  stone. 


:__:  i  rr:  ant    Epithalamion.  [E- r 


SONNET    LV. 

OFT  as  I  her  beauty  do  behold, 

And  :h  do  her  cruelty  compare, 

I  marvel  of  what  substance  was  the  mould, 

-h  her  made  at  once  so  cruel  fair. 
foi  hex  high  thoughts  more  heavenly  are: 
I  water;  for  her  love  doth  bur:  6re: 

t  a  i     :' :  r  s  b  e  is  not  so  light  or  rare  : 
Not  fire     foi  she  doth  freeze  with  faint  desire. 
Ther.  needs  another  element  inquire 

are  :  :*  she  mote  be  made,  that  is,  the  skj 
For  to  the  heaven  her  haughty  looks  aspire  : 
:  her  mind  is  pure  immortal  high, 
s.ih  to  heaven  ye  likened  are  the  best, 
Be  like  in  mercy  as  in  all  the  re  5 1 


SONNET    LVI. 


.-_    .  z  z  -  -  z    _  r  -  ; 


\IR  ye  be  sure,  but  cruel  and  unkind, 
A s  is  s.  tiger,  that  with  greediness 
H-  --  blood;  when  he  by  chance  doth 

Snd 
t,  Joth  Fe  .y  him  oppress. 


-    ;  but  proud  and  z  i  I 

that  all  this  ':i  ioth  prostra:;  : 
.  al  one  all  comfortle 
'    :  stroi  f.y,  it  to  ruir 
-  be  ye  sure,  but  hard  a  1  ate, 

1  rock  an       M       tag         " 
j  a  a,  a  ship   of  succour  desolate, 

L  -.  -.  -.  ~-h  of  herself  and 

That  si  ind  that  same  beast,  am  I. 

i  do  wreck,  do  ruin,  and  destroy. 


__ ;:~  Amorrtti  and   E pith al 

SONNET    LVIL 

IWeet  warrior!  when  shall  I  have  peace  with  you 
High  time  it  is  this  war  now  ended  were 
Which  I  no  longer  can  endure  to  - 
Ne  your  incessant  batt  ry  rr.ore  to  bear: 
So  weak  my  powers,  so  sore  my  wounds,  appear, 
That  wonder  is  how  I  should  live  a  jot, 
Seeing  my  heart  through-lanced  everywhere 
With  thousand  arrows,  which  your  eyes  have  shot : 
Yet  shoot  ye  sharply  still,  and  spare  me  not, 
But  glory  think  to  make  these  cruel  stonrs, 
Ye  cruel  one !  what  glory  can  be  got, 
In  slaying  him  that  would  live  gladly 

Make  peace  therefore,  and  grant  me  timely  grace, 
That  all  my  wounds  will  heal  in  little  space. 


SONNET    LVIIL 

£-.   her  thai  is  jr.: si  ass 

Eak  is  :h'  assurance  that  weak  flesh  reposeth 
In  her  own  power,  and  scorneth  other  s 
Thatsoones 

Herself  assured,  and  is  cf  na  -id. 

All  flesh  is  frail,  and  all  her  sfa  yed, 

Like  a  vain  bubble  blowen  up  with  ail 
Devouring  time  and  changeful  chance  have  prey*d 
Her  glory's  pride  that  dc 
Ne  none  so  rich  or  w:-.  .rong  or  lair, 

But  faileth.  tra  n  his  own  assurance ; 

And  he,  that  standeth  on  the  high. 
Falls  lowest;  for  on  earth  naught  hath  endnrai 

Why  then  do  ye,  proud  fair,  mis 

That  to  yourself  ye  most  assured  are  ! 


246         A  MO  RETT  I    AND     E  PIT  H  A  LA  MIO  N.    [E-  Bp^gJ 

SONNET    LIX. 

Hrice  happy  she !  that  is  so  well  assured 
Unto  herself,  and  settled  so  in  heart, 
That  neither  will  for  better  be  allured, 
Ne  feared  with  worse  to  any  chance  to  start ; 
But,  like  a  steady  ship,  doth  strongly  part 
The  raging  waves,  and  keeps  her  course  aright  ; 
Ne  aught  for  tempest  doth  from  it  depart, 
Ne  aught  for  fairer  weather's  false  delight. 
Such  self-assurance  need  not  fear  the  spite 
Of  grudging  foes,  ne  favour  seek  of  friends  : 
But,  in  the  stay  of  her  own  steadfast  might, 
Neither  to  one  herself  nor  other  bends. 

Most  happy  she,  that  most  assur'd  doth  rest ; 
But  he  most  happy,  who  such  one  loves  best. 


SONNET    LX. 

HEY,   that   in   course   of    heavenly   spheres    are 
skilled, 
To  every  planet  point  his  sundry  year: 
In  which  her  circle's  voyage  is  fulfilled, 
As  Mars  in  threescore  years  doth  run  his  sphere. 
So,  since  the  winged  god  his  planet  clear 
Began  in  me  to  move,  one  year  is  spent: 
The  which  doth  longer  unto  me  appear, 
Than  all  those  forty  which  my  life  out-went. 
Then  by  that  count,  which  lovers'  books  invent, 
The  sphere  of  Cupid  forty  years  contains, 
Which  I  have  wasted  in  long  languishment, 
That  seemed  the  longer  for  my  greater  pains. 
But  let  my  love's  fair  Planet  short  her  ways, 
This  year  ensuing,  or  else  short  my  days. 


KSpenserj    AmORETTI    AND     E  P I T II A  L  A  M 1 0  N.  2tf 

SONNET    LXI. 

He  glorious  image  of  the  Maker's  beauty, 
My  sovereign  saint,  the  idol  of  my  thought, 
Dare  not  henceforth,  above  the  bounds  of  duty, 
T'  accuse  of  pride,  or  rashly  blame  for  aught. 
For  being,  as  she  is,  divinely  wrought, 
And  of  the  brood  of  Angels  heavenly  born  ; 
And  with  the  crew  of  blessed  Saints  upbrought, 
Each  of  which  did  her  with  their  gifts  adorn; 
The  bud  of  joy,  the  blossom  of  the  morn, 
The  beam  of  light,  whom  mortal  eyes  admire  ; 
What  reason  is  it  then  but  she  should  scorn 
Base  things,  that  to  her  love  too  bold  aspire? 

Such  heavenly  forms  ought  rather  worshipped  be, 
Than  dare  be  lov'd  by  men  of  mean  degree. 


SONNET    LXI  I. 

He  weary  year  his  race  now  having  run, 
The  new  begins  his  compass'd  course  anew 
With  show  of  morning  mild  he  hath  begun, 
Betokening  peace  and  plenty  to  ensue. 
So  let  us,  with  this  change  of  weather  view, 
Change  eke  our  minds,  and  former  lives  amend  : 
The  old  year's  sins  forepast  let  us  eschew, 
And  fly  the  faults  with  which  we  did  offend. 
Then  shall  the  new  year's  joy  forth  freshly  send, 
Into  the  glooming  world,  his  gladsome  ray : 
And  all  these  storms,  which  now  his  beauty  blend, 
Shall  turn  to  calms,  and  timely  clear  away. 

So,  likewise,  Love  !  cheer  you  your  heavy  spright, 
And  change  old  year's  annoy  to  new  delight. 


248         AMORETTl    AND     EriTHALAMION.    [,,:-  Sp 

SONNET    LXIII. 

FTER  long  storms  and  tempests'  sad  assay, 
Which  hardly  I  endured  heretofore, 
In  dread  of  death,  and  dangerous  dismay, 
With  which  my  silly  bark  was  tossed  sore : 
I  do  at  length  descry  the  happy  shore, 
In  which  I  hope  ere  long  for  to  arrive  : 
Fair  soil  it  seems  from  far,  and  fraught  with  store 
Of  all  that  dear  and  dainty  is  alive. 
Most  happy  he !  that  can  at  last  achieve 
The  joyous  safety  of  so  sweet  a  rest ; 
Whose  least  delight  sufficeth  to  deprive 
Remembrance  of  all  pains  which  him  oppressed. 
All  pains  are  nothing  in  respect  of  this; 
All  sorrows  short  that  gain  eternal  bliss. 


enser. 
>595- 


SONNET    LXIV. 

OMING  to  kiss  her  lips  (such  grace  I  found,) 
Me  seemed,  I  smelt  a  garden  of  sweet  flowers, 
That  dainty  odours  from  them  threw  around, 
For  damsels  fit  to  deck  their  lovers'  bowers. 
Her  lips  did  smell  like  unto  gillyflowers; 
Her  ruddy  cheeks,  like  unto  roses  red  ; 
Her  snowy  brows,  like  budded  bellamoures  ; 
Her  lovely  eyes,  like  pinks  but  newly  spread  ; 
Her  goodly  bosom,  like  a  strawberry  bed  ; 
Her  neck,  like  to  a  bunch  of  Columbines ; 
Her  breast,  like  lilies,  ere  their  leaves  be  shed  ; 
Her  nipples,  like  young  blossomed  jessamines  : 
Such  flagrant  flowers  do  give  most  odorous  smell  ; 
But  her  sweet  odour  did  them  all  excel. 


>  )j   "* 


E.  Spenser,  j    AmORETTI    AND     E  P I  T II A  L  A  M 1 0  N.         249 

SONNET    LXV. 

He  doubt  which  ye  misdeem,  fair  love,  is  vain, 
That  fondly  fear  to  lose  your  liberty  ; 
When,  losing  one,  two  liberties  ye  gain, 
And  make  him  bond  that  bondage  erst  did  fly. 
Sweet  be  the  bands,  the  which  true  love  doth  tie 
Without  constraint,  or  dread  of  any  il  1 
The  gentle  bird  feels  no  captivity 
Within  her  cage;  but  sings,  and  feeds  her  fill. 
There  pride  dare  not  approach,  nor  discord  spill 
The  league  'twixt  them,  that  loyal  love  hath  bound  : 
But  simple  truth,  and  mutual  good-will, 
Seeks  with  sweet  peace,  to  salve  each  other's  wound : 
There  faith  doth  fearless  dwell  in  brazen  tower, 
And  spotless  pleasure  builds  her  sacred  bower. 


SONNET    LXVI. 

O  ALL  those  happy  blessings,  which  ye  have 
With   plenteous   hand    by   heaven    upon    you 

thrown  ; 
This  one  disparagement  they  to  you  gave, 
That  ye  your  love  lent  to  so  mean  a  one. 
Ye,  whose  high  worth's  surpassing  paragon 
Could  not  on  earth  have  found  one  fit  for  mate, 
Ne  but  in  heaven  matchable  to  none, 
Why  did  ye  stoop  unto  so  lowly  state? 
But  ye  thereby  much  greater  glory  gat, 
Than  had  ye  sorted  with  a  prince's  peer : 
For,  now  your  light  doth  more  itself  dilate, 
And,  in  my  darkness,  greater  doth  appear. 
Yet,  since  your  light  hath  once  illumined  me, 
With  my  reflex  yours  shall  increased  be. 


250      Amoretti  and   E  pit  11  a  lam  i  on.  [E'Spe"s95.* 
SONNET    LXVII. 

Ike  as  a  huntsman  after  weary  chase, 
Seeing  the  game  from  him  escap'd  away, 
Sits  down  to  rest  him  in  some  shady  place, 
With  panting  hounds  beguiled  of  their  prey: 
So,  after  long  pursuit  and  vain  assay, 
When  I  all  weary  had  the  chase  forsook, 
The  gentle  deer  returned  the  self-same  way, 
Thinking  to  quench  her  thirst  at  the  next  brook  : 
There  she,  beholding  me  with  milder  look, 
Sought  not  to  fly,  but  fearless  still  did  bide ; 
Till  I  in  hand  her  yet  half  trembling  took, 
And  with  her  own  goodwill  her  firmly  tied. 

Strange  thing,  me  seemed,  to  see  a  beast  so  wild, 
So  goodly  won,  with  her  own  will  beguil'd. 


t/Ti 


SONNET    LXVII  I. 

OST  glorious  Lord  of  life  !  that,  on  this  day, 
Did'st  make  thy  triumph  over  death  and  sin  ; 
And,  having  harrow'd  hell,  did'st  bring  away 
Captivity  thence  captive,  us  to  win  : 
This  joyous  day,  dear  Lord,  with  joy  begin  ; 
And  grant  that  we,  for  whom  thou  diddest  die, 
Being  with  thy  dear  blood  clean  wash'd  from  sin, 
May  live  for  ever  in  felicity  ! 
And  that  thy  love  we  weighing  worthily, 
May  likewise  love  thee  for  the  same  again  ; 
And  for  thy  sake,  that  all  like  deer  did'st  buy, 
With  love  may  one  another  entertain ! 

So  let  us  love,  dear  love,  like  as  we  ought : 
Love  is  the  lesson  which  the  Lord  us  taught. 


E.SPenser.j    A&10RETTI    AND     E  P I T  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.         251 

SONNET    LX1X. 

He  famous  warriors  of  antique  world 
Used  trophies  to  erect  in  stately  wise ; 
In  which  they  would  the  records  have  enroll'd 
Of  their  great  deeds  and  valorous  emprize. 
What  trophy  then  shall  I  most  fit  devise, 
In  which  I  may  record  the  memory 
Of  my  love's  conquest,  peerless  beauty's  prize, 
Adorn'd  with  honour,  love,  and  chastity ! 
Even  this  verse,  vow'd  to  eternity, 
Shall  be  thereof  immortal  monument; 
And  tell  her  praise  to  all  posterity, 
That  may  admire  such  world's  rare  wonderment ; 
The  happy  purchase  of  my  glorious  spoil, 
Gotten  at  last  with  labour  and  long  toil. 


SONNET    LXX. 

RESH  Spring,  the  herald  of  love's  mighty  king, 
In  whose  coat-armour  richly  are  displayed 
All  sorts  of  flowers,  the  which  on  earth  do  spring, 
In  goodly  colours  gloriously  arrayed  ; 
Go  to  my  love,  where  she  is  careless  laid, 
Yet  in  her  winter's  bower  not  well  awake ; 
Tell  her  the  joyous  time  will  not  be  stayed, 
Unless  she  do  him  by  the  forelock  take ; 
Bid  her  therefore  herself  soon  ready  make, 
To  wait  on  Love  amongst  his  lovely  crew  ; 
Where  every  one,  that  misseth  then  her  make, 
Shall  be  by  him  amerced  with  penance  due. 

Make  haste,  therefore,  sweet  love,  whilst  it  is  piimc; 
For  none  can  call  again  the  passed  time. 


252      Amoretti  and   Epithalamion.  [E-Spe^; 


SONNET    LXXI. 

JOY  to  see  how,  in  your  dravven  work, 
Yourself  unto  the  bee  ye  do  compare  ; 
And  me  unto  the  spider,  that  doth  lurk 
In  close  await,  to  catch  her  unaware : 
Right  so  yourself  were  caught  in  cunning  snare 
Of  a  dear  foe,  and  thralled  to  his  love ; 
In  whose  straight  bands  ye  now  captived  are 
So  firmly,  that  ye  never  may  remove. 
But  as  your  work  is  woven  all  above 
With  woodbine  flowers  and  fragrant  eglantine  ; 
So  sweet  your  prison  you  in  time  shall  prove, 
With  many  dear  delights  bedecked  fine. 
And  all  thenceforth  eternal  peace  shall  see 
Between  the  spider  and  the  gentle  bee. 


SONNET    LXXI  I. 

Ft,  when  my  spirit  doth  spread  her  bolder  wings, 
In  mind  to  mount  up  to  the  purest  sky ; 
It  down   is  weighed  with   thought  of  earthly 
things, 

And  clogged  with  burden  of  mortality  ; 
Where,  when  that  sovereign  beauty  it  doth  spy, 
Resembling  heaven's  glory  in  her  light, 
Drawn  with  sweet  pleasure's  bait,  it  back  doth  fly, 
And  unto  heaven  forgets  her  former  flight. 
There  my  frail  fancy,  fed  with  full  delight, 
Doth  bathe  in  bliss,  and  mantleth  most  at  ease ; 
Ne  thinks  of  other  heaven,  but  how  it  might 
Her  heart's  desire  with  most  contentment  please. 
Heart  need  not  wish  none  other  happiness, 
But  here  on  earth  to  have  such  heaven's  bliss. 


E.  Spenser  j    AmORETTI    AND     EPITHALAMION.         253 

SONNET    LXXIII. 

ElNG  myself  captiv^d  here  in  care, 

My  heart,  whom  none  with  servile  bands  can  tie, 
But  the  fair  tresses  of  your  golden  hair, 
Breaking  his  prison,  forth  to  you  doth  fly. 
Like  as  a  bird,  that  in  one's  hand  doth  spy 
Desired  food,  to  it  doth  make  his  flight: 
Even  so  my  heart,  that  wont  on  your  fair  eye 
To  feed  his  fill,  flies  back  unto  your  sight. 
Do  you  him  take,  and  in  your  bosom  bright 
Gently  encage,  that  he  may  be  your  thrall : 
Perhaps  he  there  may  learn,  with  rare  delight, 
To  sing  your  name  and  praises  over  all : 
That  it  hereafter  may  you  not  repent, 
Him  lodging  in  your  bosom  to  have  lent. 


SONNET    LXXIV. 

[OST  happy  letters !  fram'd  by  skilful  trade, 

With  which  that  happy  name  was  first  design'd, 
The  which  three  times  thrice  happy  hath  me 
made, 

With  gifts  of  body,  fortune,  and  of  mind. 
The  first  my  being  to  me  gave  by  kind, 
From  mother's  womb  deriv'd  by  due  descent: 
The  second  is  my  sovereign  Queen  most  kind 
That  honour  and  large  riches  to  me  lent : 
The  third,  my  love,  my  life's  last  ornament, 
By  whom  my  spirit  out  of  dust  was  raised  : 
To  speak  her  praise  and  glory  excellent, 
Of  all  alive  most  worthy  to  be  praised. 
Ye  three  Elizabeths!  for  ever  live, 
That  three  such  graces  did  unto  me  give. 


254         A  MO  RETT  I    AND     E  T I T  H  A  L  A  M 1 0  N.    [*"  Spe%£ 

SONNET    LXXV. 

Ne  day  I  wrote  her  name  upon  the  strand  ; 
But  came  the  waves,  and  washed  it  away : 
Again,  I  wrote  it  with  a  second  hand  ; 
But  came  the  tide,  and  made  my  pains  his  prey. 
Vain  man,  said  she,  that  dost  in  vain  assay 
A  mortal  thing  so  to  immortalize; 
For  I  myself  shall  like  to  this  decay, 
And  eke  my  name  be  wiped  out  likewise. 
Not  so,  quoth  I,  let  baser  things  devise 
To  die  in  dust,  but  you  shall  live  by  fame : 
My  verse  your  virtues  rare  shall  eternize, 
And  in  the  heavens  write  your  glorious  name. 
Where,  when  as  death  shall  all  the  world  subdue, 
Our  love  shall  live,  and  later  life  renew. 


SONNET    LXXV  I. 

AlR  bosom  !  fraught  with  virtue's  richest  treasure 
The  nest  of  love,  the  lodging  of  delight, 
The  bovver  of  bliss,  the  paradise  of  pleasure, 
il     The  sacred  harbour  of  that  heavenly  spright ; 
How  was  I  ravish'd  with  your  lovely  sight, 
And  my  frail  thoughts  too  rashly  led  astray ! 
Whiles  diving  deep  through  amorous  insight, 
On  the  sweet  spoil  of  beauty  they  did  prey  ; 
And  twixt  her  paps  (like  early  fruit  in  May, 
Whose  harvest  seemed  to  hasten  now  apace), 
They  loosely  did  their  wanton  wings  display, 
And  there  to  rest  themselves  did  boldly  place. 
Sweet  thoughts !  I  envy  your  so  happy  rest, 
Which  oft  I  wish'd,  yet  never  was  so  blest. 


E.Spenser.j   AmORETTI    AND     EpiTHALAMION.         255 

SONNET    LXXVII. 

As  it  a  dream,  or  did  I  see  it  plain  ; 
A  goodly  table  of  pure  ivory, 
All  spread  with  junkets,  fit  to  entertain 
The  greatest  Prince  with  pompous  royalty  : 
'Mongst  which,  there  in  a  silver  dish  did  lie 
Two  golden  apples  of  unvalued  price  ; 
Far  passing  those  which  Hercules  came  by, 
Or  those  which  Atalanta  did  entice ; 
Exceeding  sweet,  yet  void  of  sinful  vice  ; 
That  many  sought,  yet  none  could  ever  taste  ; 
Sweet  fruit  of  pleasure,  brought  from  Paradise 
By  Love  himself,  and  in  his  garden  placed. 
Her  breast  that  table  was,  so  richly  spread  ; 
My  thoughts  the  guests,  which  would  thereon  have  fed. 


SONNET    LXXVIII. 

ACKING  my  love,  I  go  from  place  to  place, 

Like  a  young  fawn,  that  late  hath  lost  the  hind  ; 
And  seek  each  where,  where  last  I  saw  her  face, 
Whose  image  yet  I  carry  fresh  in  mind. 
I  seek  the  fields  with  her  late  footing  signed ; 
I  seek  her  bower  with  her  late  presence  deck'd  ; 
Yet  nor  in  field  nor  bower  I  her  can  find  ; 
Yet  field  and  bower  are  full  of  her  aspect : 
But,  when  mine  eyes  I  thereunto  direct, 
They  idly  back  return  to  me  again  : 
And,  when  I  hope  to  see  their  true  object, 
I  find  myself  but  fed  with  fancies  vain. 

Cease  then,  mine  eyes,  to  seek  herself  to  see  ; 
And  let  my  thoughts  behold  herself  in  me. 


256         A  MO  RETT!    AND     EPITHALAMION.    [E,Sp^J 

SONNET    LXXIX. 

En  call  you  fair,  and  you  do  credit  it, 
For  that  yourself  ye  daily  such  do  see  : 
But  the  true  fair,  that  is  the  gentle  wit, 
And  virtuous  mind,  is  much  more  praised  of  me  : 
For  all  the  rest,  however  fair  it  be, 
Shall  turn  to  naught  and  lose  that  glorious  hue ; 
But  only  that  is  permanent  and  free 
From  frail  corruption,  that  doth  flesh  ensue. 
That  is  true  beauty :  that  doth  argue  you 
To  be  divine,  and  born  of  heavenly  seed  ; — 
Deriv'd  from  that  fair  Spirit,  from  whom  all  true 
And  perfect  beauty  did  at  first  proceed  : 
He  only  fair,  and  what  He  fair  hath  made; 
All  other  fair,  like  flowers,  untimely  fade. 


SONNET    LXXX. 

[Fter  so  long  a  race  as  I  have  run 

Through    Faery  land,  which  those  six   books 

compile, 
Give  leave  to  rest  me  being  half  foredone, 
And  gather  to  myself  new  breath  awhile. 
Then,  as  a  steed  refreshed  after  toil, 
Out  of  my  prison  I  will  break  anew ; 
And  stoutly  will  that  second  work  assoil, 
With  strong  endeavour  and  attention  due. 
Till  then  give  leave  to  me,  in  pleasant  mew 
To  sport  my  muse,  and  sing  my  love's  sweet  praise; 
The  contemplation  of  whose  heavenly  hue, 
My  spirit  to  a  higher  pitch  will  raise : 
But  let  her  praises  yet  be  low  and  mean, 
Fit  for  the  handmaid  of  the  Faery  Queen. 


E' Spexn595.']  Amoretti  and   Epithalamion. 


■57 


SONNET    LXXXI. 

Air  is  my  love,  when  her  fair  golden  hairs 

With  the  loose  wind  waving  ye  chance  to  mark; 
Fair,  when  the  rose  in  her  red  cheeks  appears; 
Or  in  her  eyes  the  fire  of  love  doth  spark. 
Fair,  when  her  breast,  like  a  rich  laden  bark, 
With  precious  merchandise  she  forth  doth  lay ; 
Fair,  when  that  cloud  of  pride,  which  oft  doth  dark 
Her  goodly  light,  with  smiles  she  drives  away. 
But  fairest  she,  when  so  she  doth  display 
The  gate  with  pearls  and  rubies  richly  dight ; 
Through  which  her  words  so  wise  do  make  their  way 
To  bear  the  message  of  her  gentle  spright. 
The  rest  be  work  of  nature's  wonderment : 
But  this  the  work  of  heart's  astonishment. 


SONNET    LXXXI  I. 

Oy  of  my  life  !  full  oft  for  loving  you 
I  bless  my  lot,  that  was  so  lucky  placed  : 
But  then  the  more  your  own  mishap  I  rue, 
That  are  so  much  by  so  mean  love  embased  ; 
For,  had  the  equal  heavens  so  much  you  graced 
In  this  as  in  the  rest,  ye  mote  invent 
Some  heavenly  wit,  whose  verse  could  have  enchased 
Your  glorious  name  in  golden  monument. 
But  since  ye  deigned  so  goodly  to  relent 
To  me  your  thrall,  in  whom  is  little  worth ; 
That  little,  that  I  am,  shall  all  be  spent 
In  setting  your  immortal  praises  forth : 
Whose  lofty  argument,  uplifting  me, 
Shall  lift  you  up  unto  an  high  degree. 
II,  R 


258       Amoretti   and    E pith al AMI ON.   [ESPe[ 


nser. 
595- 


SONNET    LXXXIII. 

[In  all  early  editions,  this  sonnet  is  numbered  LXXXIV.,  and  the  succeeding  poems  are 
numbered  LXXXV.  et  seq.  But  the  sonnet  originally  headed  LXXXIII.  is  a  repetition  of 
the  sonnet  already  printed  as  number  XXXV.  That  sonnet  is  not  repeated  here,  and  the 
numbering  is  altered  accordingly.] 

Et  not  one  spark  of  filthy  lustful  fire 

Break  out,  that  may  her  sacred  peace  molest ; 
Ne  one  light  glance  of  sensual  desire 
Attempt  to  work  her  gentle  mind's  unrest : 
But  pure  affections  breed  in  spotless  breast, 
And  modest  thoughts  breath'd  from  well-tempered  sprites, 
Go  visit  her  in  her  chaste  bower  of  rest 
Accompanied  with  angel-like  delights. 
There  fill  yourself  with  those  most  joyous  sights, 
The  which  myself  could  never  yet  attain : 
But  speak  no  word  to  her  of  these  sad  plights, 
Which  her  too  constant  stiffness  doth  constrain. 
Only  behold  her  rare  perfection, 
And  bless  your  fortune's  fair  election. 


SONNET    LXXXIV. 

He  world  that  cannot  deem  of  worthy  things, 
When  I  do  praise  her,  say  I  do  but  flatter: 
So  does  the  cuckoo,  when  the  mavis  sings, 
Begin  his  witless  note  apace  to  clatter. 
But  they  that  skill  not  of  so  heavenly  matter, 
All  that  they  know  not  envy  or  admire  ; 
Rather  than  envy,  let  them  wonder  at  her, 
But  not  to  deem  of  her  desert  aspire. 
Deep,  in  the  closet  of  my  parts  entire, 
Her  worth  is  written  with  a  golden  quill, 
That  me  with  heavenly  fury  doth  inspire, 
And  my  glad  mouth  with  her  sweet  praises  fill : 

Which  when  as  Fame  in  her  shrill  trump  shall  thunder, 
Let  the  world  choose  to  envy  or  to  wonder. 


Spe"s9s-]  Amoretti  and    Epithalamion.       259 
SONNET    LXXXV. 

Enomous  tongue  tipp'd  with  vile  adders'  sting, 
Of  that  self  kind  with  which  the  Furies  fell 
Their   snaky    heads   do   comb,    from    which    a 
spring 

Of  poisoned  words  and  spiteful  speeches  well  ; 
Let  all  the  plagues,  and  horrid  pains,  of  hell 
Upon  thee  fall  for  thine  accursed  hire 
That  with  false  forged  lies,  which  thou  didst  tell, 
In  my  true  love  did  stir  up  coals  of  ire, 
The  sparks  whereof  let  kindle  thine  own  fire, 
And,  catching  hold  on  thine  own  wicked  head, 
Consume  thee  quite,  that  didst  with  guile  conspire 
In  my  sweet  peace  such  breaches  to  have  bred ! 
Shame  be  thy  meed,  and  mischief  thy  reward, 
Due  to  thy  self,  that  it  for  me  prepared  ! 


SONNET    LXXXV  I. 

Ince  I  did  leave  the  presence  of  my  love, 
Many  long  weary  days  I  have  outworn  ; 
And  many  nights,  that  slowly  seemed  to  move 
Their  sad  protract  from  evening  until  morn. 
For,  when  as  day  the  heaven  doth  adorn, 
I  wish  that  night  the  noyous  day  would  end : 
And,  when  as  night  hath  us  of  light  forlorn, 
I  wish  that  day  would  shortly  reascend. 
Thus  I  the  time  with  expectation  spend, 
And  fain  my  grief  with  changes  to  beguile, 
That  further  seems  his  term  still  to  extend, 
And  maketh  every  minute  seem  a  mile. 
So  sorrow  still  doth  seem  too  long  to  last ; 
But  joyous  hours  do  fly  away  too  fast. 


260      Amoretti  and   Epithalamion.  [E  SpT5S9s. 
SONNET    LXXXVII. 

INCE  I  have  lack'd  the  comfort  of  that  light, 
The  which  was  wont  to  lead  my  thoughts  astray; 
I  wander  as  in  darkness  of  the  night, 
Afraid  of  every  danger's  least  dismay. 
Ne  aught  I  see,  though  in  the  clearest  day, 
When  others  gaze  upon  their  shadows  vain, 
But  th'  only  image  of  that  heavenly  ray, 
Whereof  some  glance  doth  in  mine  eye  remain. 
Of  which  beholding  the  Idaea  plain, 
Through  contemplation  of  my  purest  part, 
With  light  thereof  I  do  myself  sustain, 
And  thereon  feed  my  love-affamish'd  heart : 
But,  with  such  brightness  whilst  I  fill  my  mind, 
I  starve  my  body,  and  mine  eyes  do  blind. 


SONNET    LXXXVII  I. 

Ike  as  the  Culver,  on  the  bared  bough, 

Sits  mourning  for  the  absence  of  her  mate; 
And,  in  her  songs,  sends  many  a  wishful  vow 
For  his  return  that  seems  to  linger  late: 
So  I  alone,  now  left  disconsolate, 
Mourn  to  myself  the  absence  of  my  love  ; 
And,  wandering  here  and  there  all  desolate, 
Seek  with  my  plaints  to  match  that  mournful  dove. 
Ne  joy  of  aught  that  under  heaven  doth  hove 
Can  comfort  me,  but  her  own  joyous  sight : 
Whose  sweet  aspect  both  God  and  man  can  move, 
In  her  unspotted  pleasance  to  delight. 

Dark  is  my  day,  while  her  fair  light  I  miss, 
And  dead  my  life  that  wants  such  lively  bliss. 


I  Fidessa,  more| 

|  chaste   than 

f 

£  kind. 

I 

£       By  B.  GRIFFIN,  Gent. 


I 

f 


At  LONDON. 

Printed  by  the  Widow  Orwi  n, 

for  Matthew  Lownes. 

1596. 


263 


To  the  most  kind  and  virtuous  Gentleman, 
Master     William     Essex    of 
Lamebourne,  in    the  County    of 
Berkshire],   Esquire, 

s  I  R, 

T  may  seem  strange  that  I  should  be  thus  far  bold 
to  make  choice  of  yourself,  a  Patron  of  so  slender 
a  work  ;  especially  being  so  little  known  unto  you 
as  I  am :  but,  howsoever,  I  protest  what  is  done, 
proceeded  from  the  unfeigned  love  I  bear  unto  you,  your  own 
demerit,  your  friends'  hope,  and  the  good  report  of  all  men. 
All  which  are  lively  witnesses  of  your  love  to  the  Muses, 
your  grace  with  Fortune,  and  your  fame  with  the  World ; 
quickened  in  your  birth,  increased  in  your  travails,  and  living 
after  death. 

Deign,  sweet  Sir,  to  pardon  the  matter  !  judge  favourably 
of  the  manner !  and  accept  both  !    So  shall  I  ever  rest  yours, 
In  all  dutiful  affection, 

Yours  ever, 

B.   Griffin. 


264 

-n-  -jit—jit—n-  -n-n-  -3jj~n-~n—n—n  •^•^^•^•••^■■•^•••^■^•••n--^--^^"-'^--n--^-"-n---^j- 

To  the  Gentlemen  of  the 
Inns  of  Court. 

Courteous    Gentlemen. 

T  MAY  please  you,  entertain  with-  patience  this  poor 
pamphlet!  unworthy  I  confess  so  worthy  patronage. 
If  I  presume,  I  crave  pardon  !  if  offtnd,  it  is  the  first- 
fruit  of  any  my  writings  !  if  dislike.  I  can  be  but 
sorry  !  Sweet  Gentlemen,  censure  mildly,  as  protectors  of  a  poor 
stranger  !  judge  the  best,  as  encouragers  of  a  young  beginner  !  So 
shall  I  make  true  report  of  your  undeserved  favours ;  and  you  shall 
be  yourselves  ever  courteous  ! 

In  this  hope,  if  promise  may  go  for  current,  I  willingly  make 
the  same  unto  you,  of  a  Pastoral,  yet  unfinished  ;  that  my  purpose 
was  to  have  added,  for  variety  sake,  to  this  Utile  volume  of  Sonnets. 
The  next  Term  you  may  expect  it  I  In  the  meantime,  I  wholly 
rely  on  your  gentle  acceptance. 

Yours  ever, 

B.   Griffin. 


■  tt-  &■■■&■■■&  &~a~-u  &-&-S-  -&-S-&-  a-a-  -a  ■•&--&--&•  a  a--a--&--a--£---g---&-  a- 


26: 


TO     FIDESSA. 


SONNET    I . 

Fertur  Fortunam  Fortuna  favere  ferenti. 

Idessa  fair  !  long  live  a  happy  maiden  ! 
Blest    from    thy   cradle,    by   a   worthy 
Mother, 
High-thoughted,  like  to  her,  with  bounty 
•       laden, 
Like  pleasing  grace  affording,  one  and 
other. 
Sweet  model  of  thy  far  renowned  Sire  ! 

Hold  back  a  while  thy  ever-giving  hand  ! 
And  though  these  free  penned  lines  do  nought  require 

(For  that  they  scorn  at  base  Reward  to  stand), 
Yet  crave  they  most,  for  that  they  beg  the  least ! 

Dumb  is  the  message  of  my  hidden  grief, 
And  store  of  Speech  by  silence  is  increased  ; 

O  let  me  die,  or  purchase  some  relief! 
Bounteous  Fidessa  cannot  be  so  cruel 
As  for  to  make  my  heart,  her  Fancy's  fuel ! 


266  F  i  d  e  s  s  a  .  [BCi7sffi9£ 

SONNET    II. 

Ow  can  that  piercing  crystal-painted  eye, 

That  gave  the  onset  to  my  high  aspiring, 
Yielding  each  look  of  mine  a  sweet  reply, 

Adding  new  courage  to  my  heart's  desiring  ? 
How  can  it  shut  itself  within  her  ark, 

And  keep  herself  and  me  both  from  the  light ; 
Making  us  walk  in  all  misguiding  dark, 

Aye  to  remain,  in  confines  of  the  night  ? 
How  is  it  that  so  little  room  contains  it, 

(That  guides  the  Orient,  as  the  world,  the  Sun) 
Which  once  obscured,  most  bitterly  complains  it, 

Because  it  knows  and  rules  whate'er  is  done. 
The  reason  is,  that  they  may  dread  her  sight,, 
Who  doth  both  give,  and  take  away  their  light. 


SONNET    III. 

Enus,  and  young  Adonis  sitting  by  her, 
Under  a  myrtle  shade,  began  to  woo  him  ; 
She  told  the  youngling,  how  god  Mars  did  try  her, 
And  as  he  fell  to  her,  so  fell  she  to  him. 
"  Even  thus,"  quoth  she,  "the  wanton  god  embraced  me  !  " 

And  then  she  clasped  Adonis  in  her  arms  ; 
"  Even  thus,"  quoth  she,  "  the  warlike  god  unlaced  me  !  " 

As  if  the  boy  should  use  like  loving  charms. 
But  he,  a  wayward  boy,  refused  the  offer, 

And  ran  away  !  the  beauteous  Queen  neglecting ; 
Showing  both  folly  to  abuse  her  proffer, 

And  all  his  sex,  of  cowardice  detecting. 
0  that  I  had  my  Mistress  at  that  bay  ! 
To  kiss  and  clip  me,  till  I  ran  away  ! 


B.  Griffin."] 
1 596.  J 


Fid e s s a . 
SONNET    IV. 


267 


Id  you  sometimes  three  German  brethren  see ; 

Rancour  'twixt  two  of  them  so  raging  rife, 
That  th'one  could  stick  the  other  with  his  knife  ? 

Now  if  the  third  assaulted  chance  to  be 
By  a  fourth  stranger ;  him  set  on  the  three  ! 

Them  two  'twixt  whom  afore  was  deadly  strife, 
Made  one  to  rob  the  stranger  of  his  life. 

Then  do  you  know  our  state  as  well  as  we ! 
Beauty  and  Chastity,  with  her  were  born, 

Both  at  one  birth  ;  and  up  with  her  did  grow. 
Beauty,  still  foe  to  Chastity  was  sworn ; 

And  Chastity  sworn  to  be  Beauty's  foe : 
And  yet  when  I  lay  siege  unto  her  heart, 
Beauty  and  Chastity  both  take  her  part ! 


SONNET    V . 

Rraigned,  poor  captive  at  the  Bar  I  stand  ; 

The  Bar  of  Beauty,  bar  to  all  my  joys, 
And  up  I  hold  my  ever  trembling  hand, 

Wishing,  or  life,  or  death  to  end  annoys. 
And  when  the  Judge  doth  question  of  the  guilt, 

And  bids  me  speak  :  then,  sorrow  shuts  up  words  ! 
Yea,  though  he  say,"  Speak  boldly,  what  thou  wilt ! " 

Yet  my  confused  affects  no  speech  affords. 
For  why  ?     Alas,  my  Passions  have  no  bound  !. 

For  fear  of  death  that  penetrates  so  near; 
And  still  one  grief  another  doth  confound, 

Yet  doth  at  length  a  way  to  speech  appear. 
Then,  for  I  speak  too  late,  the  Judge  doth  give 
His  sentence,  that  "  in  prison,  I  shall  live !  " 


268  Fid  ess  a.  [h  Crlf9t 

SONNET    VI. 

Nhappy  sentence  !     Worst  of  worst  of  pains, 

To  be  in  darksome  silence,  out  of  ken, 
Banished  from  all  that  bliss  the  world  contains, 

And  thrust  from  out  the  companies  of  men. 
Unhappy  sentence  !     Worse  than  worst  of  deaths, 

Never  to  see  Fidessa's  lovely  face  ! 
O  better  were  I  lose  ten  thousand  breaths, 

Than  ever  live  in  such  unseen  disgrace  ! 
Unhappy  sentence  !     Worse  than  pains  of  hell, 

To  live  in  self-tormenting  griefs  alone  ; 
Having  my  heart,  my  prison  and  my  cell, 

And  there  consumed,  without  relief  to  moan  ! 
If  that  the  sentence  sc  unhappy  be, 
Then  what  am  I,  that  gave  the  same  to  me  ? 


SONNET    VII. 

Ft  have  mine  Eyes,  the  Agents  of  mine  Heart 
(False  traitor  Eyes  conspiring  my  decay  !) 
Pleaded  for  grace  with  dumb  and  silent  art, 
Streaming  forth  tears,  my  sorrows  to  allay. 
Moaning  the  wrong,  they  do  unto  their  Lord, 
Forcing  the  cruel  Fair,  by  means  to  yield  ; 
Making  her,  'gainst  her  will,  some  grace  t'afford; 

And  striving  sore,  at  length  to  win  the  field, 
Thus  work  they  means  to  feed  my  fainting  hope, 

And  strengthened  hope  adds  matter  to  each  thought ; 
Yet  when  they  all  come  to  their  end  and  scope, 

They  do  but  wholly  bring  poor  me,  to  nought. 
She'll  never  yield  !  although  they  ever  cry ; 
And  therefore  we  must  all  together  die  ! 


B'GrS]  Fid  ess  a.  269 

SONNET    VIII. 

Rief-urging  Guest !  great  cause  have  I  to  plain  me, 

Yet  hope  persuading  hope  expecteth  grace, 
And  saith,  "  None  but  myself  shall  ever  pain  me  !" 

But  grief,  my  hopes  exceedeth,  in  this  case. 
For  still  my  fortune  ever  more  doth  cross  me, 

By  worse  events  than  ever  I  expected  ; 
And,  here  and  there,  ten  thousand  ways  doth  toss  me, 

With  sad  remembrance  of  my  time  neglected. 
These  breed  such  thoughts  as  set  my  heart  on  fire, 

And  like  fell  hounds,  pursue  me  to  my  death. 
Traitors  unto  their  sovereign  Lord  and  Sire, 

Unkind  exactors  of  their  father's  breath. 
Whom,  in  their  rage,  they  shall  no  sooner  kill 
Than  they  themselves,  themselves  unjustly  spill ! 


SONNET    IX. 

j|Y  spotless  love,  that  never  yet  was  tainted, 

My  loyal  heart,  that  never  can  be  moved, 
My  growing  hope,  that  never  yet  hath  fainted, 

My  constancy,  that  you  full  well  have  proved  : 
All  these  consented  have,  to  plead  for  grace, 

These  all  lie  crying  at  the  door  of  Beauty  ! 
This  wails  !  this  sends  out  tears  !  this  cries  apa< 

All  do  reward  expect  of  faith  and  duty  ! 
Now  either  thou  must  prove  th'unkindest  one  ; 

And  as  thou  fairest  art,  must  crudest  be  ! 
Or  else,  with  pity,  yield  unto  their  moan  ! 

Their  moan  that  ever  will  importune  thee. 
Ah,  thou  must  be  unkind,  and  give  denial ; 
And  I,  poor  I,  must  stand  unto  my  trial  ! 


2;o  F  I  D  E  S  S  A  .  [B- 

SONNET    X. 


Griffin. 
1596. 


Lip  not,  sweet  Love,  the  wings  of  my  Desire, 

Although  it  soar  aloft,  and  mount  too  high: 
But  rather,  bear  with  me,  though  I  aspire, 

For  I  have  wings  to  bear  me  to  the  sky. 
What  though  I  mount,  there  is  no  sun  but  thee  ! 

And  sith  no  other  sun,  why  should  I  fear  ? 
Thou  wilt  not  burn  me,  though  thou  terrify ! 

And  though  thy  brightness  do  so  great  appear. 
Dear !  I  seek  not  to  batter  down  thy  glory ; 

Nor  do  I  envy  that  thy  hope  increaseth  ! 
O  never  think,  thy  fame  doth  make  me  sorry  ! 

For  thou  must  live  by  fame,  when  beauty  ceaseth. 
Besides,  since  from  one  root  we  both  did  spring, 
Why  should  not  I,  thy  fame  and  beauty  sing  ? 


SONNET    XI. 

Inged  with  sad  woes,  why  doth  fair  Zephyr  blow 

Upon  my  face  (the  map  of  discontent)  ? 
Is  it  to  have  the  weeds  of  sorrow  grow 

So  long  and  thick,  that  they  will  ne'er  be  spent  ? 
"  No,  fondling!  No  !  It  is  to  cool  the  fire 

Which  hot  Desire  within  thy  breast  hath  made. 
Check  him  but  once,  and  he  will  soon  retire !  " 

0  but  he  sorrows  brought  which  cannot  fade. 
"  The  sorrows  that  he  brought,  he  took  from  thee, 

Which  fair  Fidessa  span,  and  thou  must  wear ! 
Yet  hath  she  nothing  done  of  cruelty, 

By  (for  her  sake)  to  try  what  thou  wilt  bear  !  " 
Come,  sorrows  !  come  !     You  are  to  me  assigned  ! 
I'll  bear  you  all  !     It  is  Fidessa's  mind  ! 


B.  Griffin."!  ZT   ,    ^    „    „    „ 

i596.J  -T  1  D  E  S  S  A  . 


271 

SONNET  XII. 


If  my  heavenly  sighs  must  prove  annoy 

(Which  are  the  sweetest  music  to  my  heart), 
Let  it  suffice,  I  count  them  as  my  joy  ! 

Sweet  bitter  joy,  and  pleasant  painful  smart ! 
For  when  my  breast  is  clogged  with  thousand  cares, 

That  my  poor  loaded  heart  is  like  to  break  ; 
Then  every  sigh  doth  question  "  How  it  fares  ?  H 

Seeming  to  add  their  strength,  which  makes  me  weak. 
Yet,  for  they  friendly  are,  I  entertain  them  ; 

And  they  too  well  are  pleased  with  their  host. 
But  I,  had  not  Fidessa  been,  ere  now,  had  slain  them  ! 

It's  for  her  cause  they  live !  in  her,  they  boast ! 
They  promise  help,  but  when  they  see  her  face ; 
They  fainting,  yield  !  and  dare  not  sue  for  grace  1 


SONNET   XIII. 

Ompare  me  to  the  child  that  plays  with  fire  ! 

Or  to  the  fly  that  dieth  in  the  flame  ! 
Or  to  the  foolish  boy  that  did  aspire 

To  touch  the  Glory  of  high  heaven's  frame  ! 
Compare  me  to  Leander  struggling  in  the  waves 

Not  able  to  attain  his  safety's  shore ! 
Or  to  the  sick,  that  do  expect  their  graves  I 

Or  to  the  captive  crying  evermore  ! 
Compare  me  to  the  weeping  wounded  hart, 

Moaning  with  tears  the  period  of  his  life  1 
Or  to  the  boar  that  will  not  feel  the  smart, 

When  he  is  stricken  with  the  butcher's  knife  I 
No  man  to  these,  can  fitly  me  compare  : 
These  live  to  die  !  I  die  to  live  in  care  ! 


272  F  I  D  E  S  S  A  .  [B 

SONNET   XIV. 


Griffin. 
1596. 


Hen  silent  sleep  had  closed  up  mine  eyes, 

My  watchful  mind  did  then  begin  to  muse ; 
A  thousand  pleasing  thoughts  did  then  arise, 
That  sought  by  slights,  their  master  to  abuse. 
I  saw  (O  heavenly  sight !)  Fidessa's  face, 

And  fair  dame  Nature  blushing  to  behold  it ! 
Now  did  She  laugh  !  now  wink !  now  smile  apace  ! 

She  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  fast  did  hold  it ! 
Sweetly  her  sweet  body  did  She  lay  down  by  me, 

"  Alas,  poor  wretch,"  quoth  She,  "  great  is  thy  sorrow  ! 
But  thou  shall  comfort  find,  if  thou  wilt  try  me ! 

I  hope,  sir  boy  !  you'll  tell  me  news  to-morrow  !  " 
With  that,  away  She  went !  and  I  did  wake  withal : 
When,  ah  !  my  honey  thoughts  were  turned  to  gall. 


SONNET  XV. 

Are-charmer  Sleep  !  Sweet  ease  in  restless  misery ! 

The  captive's  liberty,  and  his  freedom's  song ! 
Balm  of  the  bruised  heart !  Man's  chief  felicity  ! 

Brother  of  quiet  Death,  when  life  is  too  too  long! 
A  Comedy  it  is  !  and  now  an  History ! 

What  is  not  sleep  unto  the  feeble  mind  ? 
It  easeth  him  that  toils,  and  him  that's  sorry  ! 

It  makes  the  deaf  to  hear ;  to  see,  the  blind ! 
Ungentle  Sleep  !  thou  helpest  all  but  me  ! 

For  when  I  sleep,  my  soul  is  vexed  most. 
It  is  Fidessa  that  doth  master  thee ! 

If  She  approach  ;  alas,  thy  power  is  lost  1 
But  here  She  is  !  See,  how  he  runs  amain  ! 
I  fear,  at  night,  he  will  not  come  again. 


B.  Griffin."] 
1 596.  J 


Fid e s s a . 
SONNET  XVI 


2r: 


Or  I  have  loved  long,  I  crave  reward! 

Reward  me  not  unkindly  !  Think  on  kindness  ! 
Kindness  becometh  those  of  high  regard  ; 

Regard  with  clemency  a  poor  man's  blindness ! 
Blindness  provokes  to  pity,  when  it  crieth ; 

It  crieth  "  Give  !  "  Dear  Lady,  shew  some  pity  ! 
Pity,  or  let  him  die,  that  daily  dieth  ! 

Dieth  he  not  oft,  who  often  sings  this  ditty  ? 
This  ditty  pleaseth  me,  although  it  choke  me. 

Methinks,  dame  Echo  weepeth  at  my  moaning, 
Moaning  the  woes,  that  to  complain  provoke  me. 

Provoke  me  now  no  more  ;  but  hear  my  groaning  ! 
Groaning  both  day  and  night,  doth  tear  my  heart  : 
My  heart  doth  know  the  cause,  and  triumphs  in  the  smart. 


SONNET   XVII. 

Weet  stroke  !  (so  might  I  thrive  as  I  must  praise) 
But  sweeter  hand  that  gives  so  sweet  a  strol. 

The  Lute  itself  is  sweetest  when  she  plays. 

But  what  hear  I  ?  A  string,  through  fear,  is  broke  I 
The  Lute  doth  shake  as  if  it  were  afraid. 

O,  sure,  some  goddess  holds  it  in  her  hand  ! 
A  Heavenly  Power  that  oft  hath  me  dismayed, 

Yet  such  a  power  as  doth  in  beauty  stand  ! 
Cease  Lute  !  my  ceaseless  suit  will  ne'er  be  heard  ! 

(Ah,  too  hard-hearted  She  that  will  not  hear  it  1) 
If  I  but  think  on  joy,  my  joy  is  marred  ! 

My  grief  is  great,  yet  ever  must  I  bear  it  I 
But  love  twixt  us,  will  prove  a  faithful  pa      ; 
And  she  will  love  my  sorrows  to  asfiua 
ii 


74 


F  I  D  E  S  S  A  . 


"B.  Griffin. 
1596. 


SONNET   XVIII. 

,  She  must  love  my  sorrows  to  assuage. 

O  God  !  what  joy  felt  I  when  She  did  smile  ! 
Whom  killing  grief  before  did  cause  to  rage. 

(Beauty  is  able  Sorrow  to  beguile) 
Out,  traitor  Absence  !  thou  dost  hinder  me  ! 

And  mak'st  my  Mistress  often  to  forget, 
Causing  me  to  rail  upon  her  cruelty, 

Whilst  thou  my  suit  injuriously  dost  let  ! 
Again,  her  Presence  doth  astonish  me, 

And  strikes  me  dumb,  as  if  my  Sense  were  gone. 
Oh  !  is  not  this  a  strange  perplexity  ? 

In  presence,  dumb !  she  hears  not  absent  moan  ! 
Thus  absent,  presence  ;  present,  absence  maketh  : 
That,  hearing  my  poor  suit,  she  it  mistaketh  ! 


SONNET    XIX. 

Y  pain  paints  out  my  love  in  doleful  Verse. 

(The  lively  Glass  wherein  she  may  behold  it !) 
My  Verse  her  wrong  to  me  doth  still  rehearse, 

But  so,  as  it  lamenteth  to  unfold  it. 
Myself  with  ceaseless  tears  my  harms  bewail, 

And  her  obdurate  heart  not  to  be  moved. 
Though  long-continued  woes  my  senses  fail, 

And  curse  the  day,  the  hour  when  first  I  loved. 
She  takes  the  Glass,  wherein  herself  She  sees, 

In  bloody  colours  cruelly  depainted ; 
And  her  poor  prisoner  humbly  on  his  knees, 

Pleading  for  grace,  with  heart  that  never  fainted 
She  breaks  the  Glass  !  alas,  I  cannot  choose  1 
But  grieve  that  I  should  so,  my  labour  lose. 


B.  Griffin.-!  77  ,    ~    „    „    „ 

1596.J  r  i  d  e  s  s  a  .  275 

SONNET    XX. 

Reat  is  the  joy  that  no  tongue  can  express  ! 

Fair  babe,  new  born,  how  much  dost  thou  delight 
me ! 
But  what,  is  mine  so  great  ?     Yea,  no  whit  less  ! 
So  great,  that  of  all  woes  it  doth  acquite  me. 
It's  fair  Fidessa  that  this  comfort  bringeth, 

Who  sorry  for  the  wrongs,  by  her  procured, 
Delightful  tunes  of  love,  of  true  love  singeth  ; 

Wherewith  her  too  chaste  thoughts  were  ne'er  inured. 
11  She  loves,"  she  saith,  "but  with  a  love  not  blind." 

Her  love  is  counsel  that  I  should  not  love  ; 
But  upon  virtues,  fix  a  stayed  mind. 

But  what !     This  new-coined  love,  love  doth  reprove  ! 
If  this  be  love  of  which  you  make  such  store  ; 
Sweet  1  love  me  less,  that  you  may  love  me  more  I 


SONNET    XXI. 

E  that  will  CLesar  be,  or  else  not  be, 

(Who  can  aspire  to  Cesar's  bleeding  fame !) 
Must  be  of  high  resolve ;  but  what  is  he 

That  thinks  to  gain  a  second  CiESAR's  name  ? 
Whoe'er  he  be  that  climbs  above  his  strength, 

And  climbeth  high ;  the  greater  is  his  fall ! 
For  though  he  sit  awhile,  we  see  at  length, 

His  slippery  place  no  firmness  hath  at  all  ! 
Great  is  his  bruise  that  falleth  from  on  high. 

This  warneth  me  that  I  should  not  aspire  ; 
Examples  should  prevail !     I  care  not,  I ! 

I  perish  must,  or  have  what  I  desire  ! 
This  humour  doth  with  mine  full  well  agree. 
I  must  Fidessa's  be,  or  else  not  be ! 


276 


F  I  D  E  S  S  A  . 


LB.  Griffin. 
1596. 


SONNET    XXII. 

T  was  of  love,  ungentle  gentle  boy  ! 

That  thou  didst  come  and  harbour  in  my  breast ; 
Not  of  intent  my  body  to  destroy, 
And  have  my  soul,  with  restless  cares  opprest. 
But  sith  thy  love  doth  turn  unto  my  pain, 

Return  to  Greece,  sweet  lad  !  where  thou  wast  born. 
Leave  me  alone  my  griefs  to  entertain  ! 
If  thou  forsake  me,  I  am  less  forlorn  ; 
Although  alone,  yet  shall  I  find  more  ease. 

Then  see  thou  hie  thee  hence,  or  I  will  chase  thee ! 
Men  highly  wronged,  care  not  to  displease  ! 

My  fortune  hangs  on  thee  !     Thou  dost  disgrace  me  ! 
Yet,  at  thy  farewell,  play  a  friendly  part; 
To  make  amends,  fly  to  Fidessa's  heart  ! 


SONNET    XXIII. 

Ly  to  her  heart !     Hover  about  her  heart  ! 
With  dainty  kisses,  mollify  her  heart ! 
Pierce  with  thy  arrows,  her  obdurate  heart ! 
With  sweet  allurements  ever  move  her  heart ! 
At  midday  and  at  midnight,  touch  her  heart  ! 
Be  lurking  closely,  nestle  about  her  heart ! 
With  power  (thou  art  a  god  !)  command  her  heart  ! 
Kindle  thy  coals  of  love  about  her  heart ! 
Yea,  even  into  thyself,  transform  her  heart ! 
Ah,  she  must  love  !     Be  sure  thou  have  her  heart ! 
And  I  must  die,  if  thou  have  not  her  heart ! 
Thy  bed  (if  thou  rest  well)  must  be  her  heart ! 
He  hath  the  best  part  sure,  that  hath  her  heart, 
What  have  I  not  ?  if  I  have  but  her  heart  ! 


GS:]  FlDESSA.  27? 

SONNET    XXIV. 


Triving  is  past !     Ah,  I  must  sink  and  drown, 
And  that  in  sight  of  long  descried  shore ! 
I  cannot  send*  for  aid  unto  the  town  ! 

All  help  is  vain,  and  I  must  die  therefore. 
Then  poor  distressed  caitiff,  be  resolved 

To  leave  this  earthly  dwelling  fraught  with  care  ! 
Cease  will,  thy  woes  !     Thy  corpse  in  earth  involved, 
Thou  diest  for  her  that  will  no  help  prepare. 

0  see,  my  case,  herself  doth  now  behold  ! 
The  casement  open  is !  She  seems  to  speak ! 

But  She  is  gone  !     0  then  I  dare  be  bold 
And  needs  must  say,  "  She  caused  my  heart  to  break  !  " 

1  die  before  I  drown,  O  heavy  case  ! 

It  was  because  I  saw  my  Mistress's  face. 


SONNET    XXV. 

Ompare  me  to  Pygmalion  with  his  Image  'sotted  ! 

For  (as  was  he)  even  so,  am  I  deceived. 
The  shadow  only  is  to  me  allotted, 

The  substance  hath  of  substance  me  bereaved. 
Then  poor  and  helpless,  must  I  wander  still 

In  deep  laments  to  pass  succeeding  days, 
Welt'ring  in  woes,  that  poor  and  mighty  kill. 

O  who  is  mighty,  that  so  soon  decays  1 
The  dread  Almighty  hath  appointed  so, 

The  final  period  of  all  worldly  things. 
Then  as  in  time  they  come,  so  must  they  go. 

(Death  common  is  to  beggars  and  to  kings) 
For  whither  do  I  run  beside  my  text  ? 
I  run  to  death,  for  death  must  be  the  next ! 


F  I  D  E  SS  A.  [BGrS: 

SONNET    XXVI. 

He  silly  bird  that  hastes  unto  the  net, 

And  flutters  to  and  fro  till  she  be  taken, 
Doth  look  some  food  or  succour  there  to  get, 

But  loseth  life :  so  much  is  she  mistaken  ! 
The  foolish  fly  that  fleeth  to  the  flame 

With  ceaseless  hovering,  and  with  restless  flight, 
Is  burned  straight  to  ashes  in  the  same, 

And  finds  her  death,  where  was  her  most  delight. 
The  proud  aspiring  boy,  that  needs  would  pry 

Into  the  secrets  of  the  highest  seat, 
Had  some  conceit  to  gain  content  thereby, 

Or  else  his  folly,  sure,  was  wondrous  great. 
These  did  through  folly  perish  all  and  die  : 
And,  though  I  know  it !  even  so  do  I  ! 


SONNET    XXVII. 

JIOor  worm,  poor  silly  worm,  alas,  poor  beast! 

Fear  makes  thee  hide  thy  head  within  the  ground, 
Because  of  creeping  things  thou  art  the  least ; 

Yet  every  foot  gives  thee  thy  mortal  wound. 
But  I,  thy  fellow  worm,  am  in  worse  state; 

For  thou  thy  sun  enjoyest,  but  I  want  mine  ! 
I  live  in  irksome  night,  0  cruel  fate  ! 

My  sun  will  never  rise,  nor  ever  shine. 
Thus  blind  of  light,  mine  eyes  misguide  my  feet, 

And  baleful  darkness  makes  me  still  afraid ; 
Men  mock  me  when  I  stumble  in  the  street, 

And  wonder  how  my  young  sight  so  decayed. 
Yet  do  I  joy  in  this,  even  when  I  fall, 
That  I  shall  see  again,  and  then  see  all ! 


BGr)5ffi96.]  FlDESSA.  279 

SONNET    XXVIII. 

Ell  may  my  soul,  immortal  and  divine, 
That  is  imprisoned  in  a  lump  of  clay, 
Breathe  out  laments  until  this  body  pine. 
That  from  her  takes  her  pleasures  all  away. 
Pine  then,  thou  loathed  prison  of  my  life ! 

Untoward  subject  of  the  least  aggrievance  ! 
O  let  me  die !  Mortality  is  rife  ! 

Death  comes  by  wounds,  by  sickness,  care,  and  chance. 
O  earth,  the  time  will  come  when  I'll  resume  thee, 

And  in  thy  bosom  make  my  resting-place  ; 
Then  do  not  unto  hardest  sentence  doom  me ! 

Yield,  yield  betimes !     I  must,  and  will  have  grace  ! 
"  Richly  shalt  thou  be  entombed  !  since  for  thy  grave, 
Fidessa,  fair  Fidessa  !  thou  shalt  have  !  " 


SONNET    XXIX. 

Arth  !  take  this  earth  wherein  my  spirits  languish  ! 
Spirits,  leave  this  earth  that  doth  in  griefs  retain  ! 
Griefs,    chase  this   earth,    that   it   may   fade  with 
anguish  ! 
Spirits,  avoid  these  furies  which  do  pain  you  1 
0  leave  your  loathsome  prison  !     Freedom,  gain  you  ! 

Your  essence  is  divine  !     Great  is  your  power  ! 
And  yet  you  moan  your  wrongs  and  sore  complain  you, 

Hoping  for  joy,  which  fadeth  every  hour  ! 
O  Spirits,  your  prison  loathe,  and  freedom  gain 

The  Destinies,  in  deep  laments,  have  shut  you, 
Of  mortal  hate  !  because  they  do  disdain  you  ! 

And  yet  of  joy  that  they  in  prison  put  you. 
Earth,  take  this  earth  with  thee  to  be  enclo^d  1 
Life  is  to  me,  and  I  to  it,  opposed  ! 


280 


Fid e s s a . 


[~B.  Griffin. 


SONNET    XXX. 

Eep  now  no  more,  mine  eyes;  but  be  you  drowned 
In  your  own  tears,  so  many  years  distilled  ! 
And  let  her  know,  that  at  them  long  hath  frowned, 
That  you  can  weep  no  more,  although  She  willed, 
This  hap,  her  cruelty  hath  her  allotten, 

Who  whilom  was  Commandress  of  each  part ; 
That,  now,  her  proper  griefs  must  be  forgotten, 
By  those  true  outward  signs  of  inward  smart. 
For  how  can  he,  that  hath  not  one  tear  left  him, 

Stream  out  those  floods  that're  due  unto  her  moaning; 
When,  both  of  eyes  and  tears  She  hath  bereft  him  ? 

O  yet  I'll  signify  my  grief  with  groaning  ! 
True  sighs,  true  groans  shall  echo  in  the  air 
And  say,  "  Fidessa,  though  most  cruel,  is  most  fair ! " 


SONNET    XXXI. 


Ongue,  never  cease  to  sing  Fidessa's  praise ! 

Heart,  however  she  deserve,  conceive  the  best ! 
Eyes,  stand  amazed  to  see  her  beauty's  rays  ! 
Lips,  steal  one  kiss,  and  be  for  ever  blest ! 
Hands,  touch  that  hand  wherein  your  life  is  closed  ! 

Breast,  lock  up  fast  in  thee  thy  life's  sole  treasure ! 
Arms,  still  embrace,  and  never  be  disclosed  ! 

Feet,  run  to  her,  without,  or  pace,  or  measure  ! 
Tongue,  heart,  eyes,  lips,  hands,  breast,  arms,  feet, 

Consent  to  do  true  homage  to  your  Queen ! 
Lovely,  fair,  gentle,  wise,  virtuous,  sober,  sweet ! 

Whose  like  shall  never  be,  hath  never  been  ! 
O  that  I  were  all  tongue,  her  praise  to  shew  ; 
Then  surely  my  poor  heart  were  freed  from  woe! 


BGrS]  Fid  ess  a.  281 

SONNET    XXXII. 


Ore  sick  of  late,  Nature  her  due  would  have, 

Great  was  my  pain  where  still  my  mind  did  rest  ; 
No  hope  but  heaven  !  no  comfort  but  my  grave, 
Which  is  of  comforts  both  the  last  and  least ! 
But  on  a  sudden,  th'Almighty  sent 

Sweet  ease  to  the  distressed  and  comfortless, 
And  gave  me  longer  time  for  to  repent ; 

With  health  and  strength,  the  foes  of  feebleness. 
Yet  I  my  health  no  sooner  'gan  recover, 

But  my  old  thoughts,  though  full  of  cares,  retained, 
Made  me,  as  erst,  become  a  wretched  lover 

Of  her,  that  Love  and  lovers  aye  disdained. 
Then  was  my  pain,  with  ease  of  pain  increased, 
And  I  ne'er  sick  until  my  sickness  ceased. 


SONNET    XXXIII. 


E  that  would  fain  Fidessa's  image  see, 

My  face,  of  force,  may  be  his  looking-glass  ! 
There  is  she  portrayed,  and  her  cruelty ! 

Which  as  a  wonder,  through  the  world  must  pass. 
But  were  I  dead,  she  would  not  be  betrayed. 

It's  I,  that  'gainst  my  will,  shall  make  it  known ! 
Her  cruelty  by  me,  must  be  bewrayed  : 

Or  I  must  hide  my  head,  and  live  alone. 
I'll  pluck  my  silver  hairs  from  out  my  head. 

And  wash  away  the  wrinkles  of  my  face  1 
Closely  immured  I'll  live,  as  I  were  dead, 

Before  She  suffer  but  the  least  disgrace  ! 
How  can  I  hide  that  is  already  known  ? 
I  have  been  seen,  and  have  no  face  but  one ! 


282  F  I  D  E  S  S  A  .  [B'  Gr;J5£ 

SONNET    XXXIV. 


Ie,  Pleasure  !  fie  !     Thou  cloy'st  me  with  delight ; 
Sweet  thoughts,  you  kill  me,  if  you  lower  stray ! 
O  many  be  the  joys  of  one  short  night ! 
Tush,  fancies  never  can  Desire  allay  ! 
Happy,  unhappy  thoughts!  I  think,  and  have  not. 

Pleasure,  O  pleasing  plain  !  Shews  nought  avail  me ! 
Mine  own  conceit  doth  glad  me,  more  I  crave  not ! 
Yet  wanting  substance,  woe  doth  still  assail  me. 
"  Babies  do  children  please  !  and  shadows,  fools !  " 

"  Shews  have  deceived  the  wisest,  many  a  time  !  " 
"  Ever  to  want  our  wish,  our  courage  cools  !  " 
"The  ladder  broken,  'tis  in  vain  to  climb." 
But  I  must  wish,  and  crave,  and  seek,  and  climb; 
It's  hard,  if  I  obtain  not  grace  in  time  1 


SONNET    XXXV. 

Have  not  spent  the  April  of  my  time, 

The  Swelt  of  Youth  in  plotting  in  the  air! 
But  do,  at  first  adventure,  seek  to  climb, 

Whilst  flowers  of  blooming  years  are  green  and 
fair. 
I  am  no  leaving  of  all-withering  Age. 

I  have  not  suffered  many  winter  lours. 
I  feel  no  storm,  unless  my  Love  do  rage. 

And  then,  in  grief  I  spend  both  days  and  hours. 
This  yet  doth  comfort  that  my  flower  lasted 

Until  it  did  approach  my  sun  too  near : 
And  then,  alas,  untimely  was  it  blasted, 

So  soon  as  once  thy  beauty  did  appear ! 
But  after  all,  my  comfort  rests  in  this, 
That,  for  thy  sake  !  my  Youth  decayed  is. 


B.  Griffin.-] 


Fl  D  E  S  S 


*&3 


SONNET    XXXVI. 

Let  my  heart,  my  body,  and  my  tongue 

Bleed  forth  the  lively  streams  of  faith  unfeigned  ! 
Worship  my  saint,  the  gods  and  saints  among ! 

Praise  and  extol  her  fair,  that  me  hath  pained  ! 
O  let  the  smoke  of  my  suppressed  Desire, 

Raked  up  in  ashes  of  my  burning  breast, 
Break  out  at  length,  and  to  the  clouds  aspire, 

Urging  the  heavens  t'afford  me  rest ! 
But  let  my  body  naturally  descend 

Into  the  bowels  of  our  common  mother! 
And  to  the  very  centre  let  it  wend, 

When  it  no  lower  can,  her  griefs  to  smother ! 
And  yet  when  I  so  low  do  buried  lie ; 
Then  shall  my  love  ascend  unto  the  sky  I 


SONNET    XXXVII. 

Air  is  my  love  that  feeds  among  the  lilies, 

The  lilies  growing  in  that  pleasant  garden 
Where  Cupid's  Mount,  that  well  beloved  hill  is, 

And  where  that  little  god,  himself  is  Warden. 
See  where  my  Love  sits  in  the  beds  of  spices  ! 

Beset  all  round  with  camphor,  myrrh,  and  roses. 
And  interlaced  with  curious  devices 

Which,  her  from  all  the  world  apart  incloses. 
There,  doth  she  tune  her  Lute  for  her  delight ! 

And  with  sweet  music  makes  the  ground  to  move 
Whilst  I,  poor  I,  do  sit  in  heavy  plight, 

Wailing  alone  my  uninspected  love. 
Not  daring  rush  into  so  rare  a  place, 
That  gives  to  her,  and  she  to  it,  a  grace. 


284 


Fid e s s a . 


[~B.  Griffin 


596. 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

As  never  eye  did  see  my  Mistress's  lace, 

Was  never  ear  did  hear  Fidessa's  tongue, 
Was  never  mind  that  once  did  mind  her  grace, 

That  ever  thought  the  travail  to  be  long ! 
''  When  her  I  see,  no  creature  I  behold." 

So  plainly  say,  these  Advocates  of  Love, 
That  now  do  fear,  and  now  to  speak  are  bold ; 

Trembling  apace,  when  they  resolve  to  prove. 
These  strange  effects  do  show  a  hidden  power, 

A  majesty,  all  base  attempts  reproving; 
That  glads  or  daunts  as  she  doth  laugh  or  lower ; 

Surely  some  goddess  harbours  in  their  moving  ! 
Who  thus  my  Muse  from  base  attempts  hath  raised, 
Whom  thus  my  Muse  beyond  compare  hath  praised. 


SONNET    XXXIX. 

Y  Lady's  hair  is  threads  of  beaten  gold. 

Her  front,  the  purest,  crystal  eye  hath  seen. 
Her  eyes,  the  brightest  stars  the  heavens  hold. 

Her  cheeks,  red  roses,  such  as  seld  have  been. 
Her  pretty  lips,  of  red  vermillion  die. 

Her  hand,  of  ivory  the  purest  white. 
Her  blush,  Aurora  or  the  morning  sky. 

Her  breast  displays  two  silver  fountains  bright. 
The  spheres,  her  voice;  her  grace,  the  Graces  three. 

Her  body  is  the  saint  that  I  adore. 
Her  smiles  and  favours,  sweet  as  honey  be. 

Her  feet,  fair  Thetis  praiseth  evermore. 
But  ah,  the  worst  and  last  is  yet  behind  : 
For  of  a  griffon  she  doth  bear  the  mind ! 


B.  Griffin.  "1 
1596J 


Fid e s s a . 
SONNET    XL. 


285 


Njurious  Fates  !  to  rob  me  of  my  bliss, 
And  dispossess  my  heart  of  all  his  hope: 
You  ought,  with  just  revenge,  to  punish  miss, 
For  unto  you  the  hearts  of  men  are  ope. 
Injurious  Fates  !  that  hardened  have  her  heart, 

Yet  make  her  face  to  send  out  pleasing  smiles : 
And  both  are  done,  but  to  increase  my  smart, 

And  entertain  my  love  with  falsed  wiles. 
Yet  being,  when  She  smiles,  surprised  with  joy, 

I  fain  would  languish  in  so  sweet  a  pain  ! 
Beseeching  death,  my  body  to  destroy ; 

Lest,  on  the  sudden,  She  should  frown  again. 
When  men  do  wish  for  death,  Fates  have  no  force 
But  they,  when  men  would  live,  have  no  remorse. 


SONNET    XLI. 

He  prison  I  am  in  is  thy  fair  face ! 
Wherein  my  liberty  enchained  lies ; 
My  thoughts,  the  bolts  that  hold  me  in  the  place ; 
My  food,  the  pleasing  looks  of  thy  fair  eyes  ! 
Deep  is  the  prison  where  I  lie  enclosed, 

Strong  are  the  bolts  that  in  this  cell  contain  me. 
Sharp  is  the  food  necessity  imposed, 

When  hunger  makes  me  feed  on  that  which  pains  me 
Yet  do  I  love,  embrace,  and  follow  fast, 

That  holds,  that  keeps,  that  discontents  me  most  : 
And  list  not  break,  unlock,  or  seek  to  waste 

The  place,  the  bolts,  the  food  (though  I  be  lost !), 
Better  in  prison  ever  to  remain  ; 
Than,  being  out,  to  suffer  greater  pain. 


286  Fid  ess  a.  [B  G"S 

SO  N  NET    XL  I  I. 

Hen  never-speaking  silence  proves  a  wonder ; 
When  ever-flying  flame  at  home  remaineth  ; 
When  all-concealing  night  keeps  darkness  under  ; 

When  men-devouring  wrong  true  glory  gaineth  • 
When  soul-tormenting  grief  agrees  with  joy ; 
When  Lucifer  foreruns  the  baleful  night ; 
When  Venus  doth  forsake  her  little  boy  ; 

When  her  untoward  boy  obtaineth  sight ; 
When  Sysiphus  doth  cease  to  roll  his  stone ; 
When  Othes  shaketh  off  his  heavy  chain  ; 
When  Beauty,  Queen  of  Pleasure  is  alone ; 
When  Love  and  Virtue,  quiet  peace  disdain : 
When  these  shall  be,  and  I  not  be ; 
Then  will  Fidessa  pity  me ; 


SONNET    XLIII. 

Ell  me  of  love,  Sweet  Love,  who  is  thy  sire  ? 
Or  if  thou  mortal  or  immortal  be  ? 
Some  say  "  Thou  art  begotten  by  Desire ! 
Nourished  with  Hope  !  and  fed  with  Fantasy  ! 
Engendered  by  a  heavenly  Goddess's  eye, 

Lurking  most  sweetly  in  an  angel's  face." 
Others  that  "  Beauty,  thee  doth  deify  !  " 

(O  sovereign  Beauty,  full  of  power  and  grace  ! ) 
But  I  must  be  absurd  all  this  denying, 

Because  the  fairest  Fair  alive  ne'er  knew  thee. 
Now,  Cupid  !  comes  thy  godhead  to  the  trying  ! 

'Twas  She  alone  (such  is  her  power !)  that  slew  me  ! 
She  shall  be  Love,  and  thou  a  foolish  boy ! 

Whose  virtue  proves  thy  power  is  but  a  toy. 


B.  Griffin."] 
I596J 


Fid e  s  s  a 


28' 


SONNET    XLIV. 

0  choice  of  change  can  ever  change  my  mind  ! 

Choiceless  my  choice,  the  choicest  choice  alive 
Wonder  of  women,  were  She  not  unkind  : 

The  pitiless  of  pity  to  deprive. 
Yet  She,  the  kindest  creature  of  her  kind, 

Accuseth  me  of  sell-ingratitude  : 
And  well  She  may  !  Sith,  by  good  proof  I  find 

Myself  had  died,  had  She  not  helpful  stood. 
For  when  my  sickness  had  the  upper  hand, 

And  death  began  to  show  his  awful  face ; 
She  took  great  pains,  my  pains  for  to  withstand  ; 

And  eased  my  heart  that  was  in  heavy  case. 
But  cruel  now,  she  scorneth  what  it  craveth  : 
Unkind  in  kindness,  murdering  while  she  saveth  ! 


SONNET    XLV. 

Ine  eye  bewrays  the  secrets  of  my  heart, 

My  heart  unfolds  his  grief  before  her  face  : 
Her  face  (bewitching  pleasure  of  my  smart !) 

Deigns  not  one  look  of  mercy  and  of  grace. 
My  guilty  eye  of  murder  and  of  treason, 

(Friendly  conspirator  of  my  decay, 
Dumb  eloquence,  the  lover's  strongest  reason  I) 

Doth  weep  itself  for  anger  quite  away  ; 
And  chooseth  rather  not  to  be,  than  be 

Disloyal,  by  too  well  discharging  duty  : 
And  being  out,  joys  it  no  more  can  see 

The  sugared  charms  of  all  deceiving  Beauty, 
But  (for  the  other  greedily  doth  eye  it), 
I  pray  you,  tell  me,  What  do  I  get  by  it  ? 


2SS  Fid  ess  a.  [BGrS 

SONNET    XLVI. 

10  soon  as  peeping  Lucifer,  Aurora's  star, 
The  sky  with  golden  periwigs  doth  spangle ; 
So  soon  as  Phcebus  gives  us  light  from  far, 
So  soon  as  fowler  doth  the  bird  entangle  ; 
Soon  as  the  watchful  bird,  Clock  of  the  Morn  ! 

Gives  intimation  of  the  Day's  appearing  ; 
Soon  as  the  jolly  hunter  winds  his  horn, 

His  speech  and  voice  with  custom's  echo  clearing  ; 
Soon  as  the  hungry  lion  seeks  his  prey 

In  solitary  range  of  pathless  mountains  ; 
Soon  as  the  passenger  sets  on  his  way, 

So  soon  as  beasts  resort  unto  the  fountains ; 
So  soon  mine  eyes  their  office  are  discharging; 
And  I,  my  griefs,  with  greater  griefs  enlarging! 


SONNET    XLVII. 

See,  I  hear,  I  feel,  I  know,  I  rue 

My  fate,  my  fame,  my  pain,  my  loss,  my  fall ; 
Mishap,  reproach,  disdain,  a  crown,  her  hue  ; 

Cruel,  still  flying,  false,  fair,  funeral 
To  cross,  to  shame,  bewitch,  deceive,  and  kill 

My  first  proceedings  in  their  flowing  bloom. 
My  worthless  pen  fast  chained  to  my  will, 

My  erring  life  through  an  uncertain  doom, 
My  thoughts  that  yet  in  lowliness  do  mount, 

My  heart  the  subject  of  her  tyranny  : 
What  now  remains,  but  her  severe  account 

Of  murder's  crying  guilt  (foul  butchery  !) 
She  was  unhappy  in  her  cradle  breath  ; 
That  given  was,  to  be  another's  death. 


B.  Griffin."] 
1596.  J 


Fid e  s  s  a 


289 


SONNET    XLVIII. 

Urder  !  O  murder  !  "  I  can  cry  no  longer. 

"  Murder  !  O  murder!  "  Is  there  none  to  aid  me  ? 
Life  feeble  is  in  force,  Death  is  much  stronger. 
Then  let  me  die  that  shame  may  not  upbraid  me, 
Nothing  is  left  me  now,  but  shame  or  death  ! 
I  fear  She  feareth  not  foul  murder's  guilt  ! 
Nor  do  I  fear  to  lose  a  servile  breath. 

I  know  my  blood  was  given  to  be  spilt, 
What  is  this  life,  but  maze  of  countless  strays  ? 

The  enemy  of  true  felicity  ! 
Fitly  compared  to  dreams  !  to  flowers  !  to  plays  ! 

0  life  !  no  life  to  me,  but  misery  ! 
Of  shame  or  death  (if  thou  must  one  ?), 
Make  choice  of  death  !  and  both  are  gone. 


SONNET    XLIX. 

Y  cruel  fortunes,  clouded  with  a  frown, 

Lurk  in  the  bosom  of  eternal  night ; 
My  climbing  thoughts  are  basely  hauled  down  ! 

My  best  devices  prove  but  after-sight. 
Poor  outcast  of  the  world's  exiled  room, 

I  live  in  wilderness  of  deep  lament : 
No  hope  reserved  me,  but  a  hopeless  tomb, 

When  fruitless  life  and  fruitful  woes  are  spent 
Shall  Phcebus  hinder  little  stars  to  shine, 

Or  lofty  cedar,  mushrooms  leave  to  grow  ? 
Sure,  mighty  men  at  little  ones  repine, 

The  rich  is  to  the  poor  a  common  foe. 
Fidessa,  seeing  how  the  world  doth  go, 
Joineth  with  Fortune,  in  my  overthrow. 

11.   "  T 


29O  F  I  D  E  i>  S  A  .  [B  GrII5^ 

SONNET    L. 

JJHen  I  the  hooks  of  pleasure  first  devoured, 

Which  undigested,  threaten  now  to  choke  me ; 
Fortune  on  me,  her  golden  graces  showered  . 

0  then  Delight  did  to  delight  provoke  me  ! 
Delight,  false  instrument  of  my  decay  ! 

Delight  the  nothing  that  doth  all  things  move  ; 
Made  me  first  wander  from  the  perfect  way, 

And  fast  entangled  me  in  the  snares  of  love. 
Then  my  unhappy  happiness,  at  first,  began, 

Happy  in  that  I  loved  the  fairest  Fair ; 
Unhappily  despised,  a  hapless  man  : 

Thus  Joy  did  triumph !  Triumph  did  despair! 
My  conquest  is,  which  shall  the  conquest  gain  ? 
Fidessa,  author  both  of  joy  and  pain  ! 


SONNET    LI. 

Ork  !  work  apace,  you  blessed  Sisters  three ! 

In  restless  twining  of  my  fatal  thread. 
O  let  your  nimble  hands  at  once  agree, 

To  weave  it  out,  and  cut  it  off  with  speed  ! 
Then  shall  my  vexed  and  tormented  ghost 

Have  quiet  passage  to  the  Elysian  rest ! 
And  sweetly  over  Death  and  Fortune  boast, 

In  everlasting  triumphs  with  the  blest ! 
But,  ah,  (too  well  I  know  !)  you  have  conspired 

A  lingering  death  for  him  that  loatheth  life  ; 
As  if  with  woes  he  never  could  be  tired. 

For  this,  you  hide  your  all-dividing  knife. 
One  comfort  yet,  the  heavens  have  assigned  me  ; 
That  I  must  die,  and  leave  my  griefs  behind  me. 


B.  Griffin."] 
I5Q6.J 


F  I  D  E  S  S  A  . 


2QI 


'S£t 


SONNET    LI  I. 

T  is  some  comfort  to  the  wronged  man, 

The  wronger,  of  injustice  to  upbraid. 
Justly  myself,  herein  I  comfort  can, 

And  justly  call  her  "  An  ungrateful  maid  !  " 
Thus  am  I  pleased  to  rid  myself  of  crime, 

And  stop  the  mouth  of  all-reporting  fame  ; 
Counting  my  greatest  cross,  the  loss  of  time, 

And  all  my  private  grief,  her  public  shame. 
Ah,  (but  to  speak  the  truth)  hence  are  my  cares, 

And  in  this  comfort,  all  discomfort  resteth  ; 
My  harms  I  cause  (her  scandal)  unawares, 

Thus  love  procures  the  thing  that  love  detesteth. 
For  he  that  views  the  glasses  of  my  smart 
Must  needs  report  "  She  hath  a  flinty  heart  1  " 


SONNET    L  I  I  I. 

Was  a  King  of  sweet  Content  at  least ; 

But  now  from  out  my  Kingdom  banished  ! 
I  was  chief  guest  at  fair  Dame  Pleasure's  feast  ; 

But  now  I  am  for  want  of  succour  famished  ! 
I  was  a  saint,  and  heaven  was  my  rest  ; 

But  now  cast  down  into  the  lowest  hell  ! 
Vile  caitiffs  may  not  live  among  the  blest  ! 

Nor  blessed  men,  amongst  cursed  caitiffs  dwell ! 
Thus  am  I  made  an  exile,  of  a  King. 

Thus  choice  of  meats,  to  want  of  food  is  chai 
Thus  heaven's  loss  doth  hellish  torments  bring. 

Self  crosses  make  me  from  myself  estrang*  d, 
Yet  am  I  still  the  same,  but  made  another  ! 

Then  not  the  same!  Alas,  I  am  no  othi  rl 


292  F  1  D  E  S  S  A  .  [B- 

SONNET    LIV. 


Griffin. 
1596. 


I 


F  great  Apollo  offered  as  a  dower, 

His  burning  throne  to  Beauty's  excellence  ; 
If  Jove  himself  came  in  a  golden  shower, 

Down  to  the  earth,  to  fetch  fair  Io  thence  ; 
If  Venus,  in  the  curled  locks  was  tied 

Of  proud  Adonis,  not  of  gentle  kind  ; 
If  Tellus,  for  a  shepherd's  favour  died, 

(The  favour  cruel  Love  to  her  assigned) ; 
If  Heaven's-winged  herald  Hermes  had 

His  heart  enchanted  with  a  country  maid  ; 
If  poor  Pygmalion  was  for  beauty  mad  : 

If  gods  and  men  have  all  for  beauty  strayed  : 
I  am  not  then  ashamed  to  be  included 
'Mongst  those  that  love,  and  be  with  love  deluded. 


SONNET    LV. 

Vgg&J,   No,  I  dare  not  !  O,  I  may  not  speak! 
fLJIJ        Yes,  yes,  I  dare!  I  can  !  I  must  !  I  will  ! 
*^^5|  Then   heart,  pour  forth  thy   plaints,    and   do   not 
break ! 
Let  never  Fancy,  manly  courage  kill ! 
Intreat  her  mildly  !  (words  have  pleasing  charms, 

Of  force  to  move  the  most  obdurate  heart) 
To  take  relenting  pity  of  my  harms. 

And  with  unfeigned  tears  to  wail  my  smart ! 
Is  She  a  stock,  a  block,  a  stone,  a  flint  ? 

Hath  She,  nor  ears  to  hear,  nor  eyes  to  see  ? 
If  so,  my  cries,  my  prayers,  my  tears  shall  stint ! 

Lord  !  how  can  lovers  so  bewitched  be  1 
I  took  her  to  be  Beauty's  Queen  alone ; 
But  now,  I  see  She  is  a  senseless  stone ! 


B-GlS0  FlDESSA.  293 

SONNET    LVI. 

S  Trust  betrayed  ?     Doth  Kindness  grow  unkind  ? 
Can  Beauty,  both  at  once,  give  life  and  kill  ? 
Shall  Fortune  alter  the  most  constant  mind  ? 
Will  Reason  yield  unto  rebelling  will  ? 
Doth  Fancy  purchase  praise,  and  Virtue,  shame  ? 

May  shew  of  Goodness  lurk  in  treachery  ? 
Hath  Truth  unto  herself  procured  blame? 

Must  sacred  Muses  suffer  misery  ? 
Are  women  woe  to  men,  traps  for  their  falls? 

Differ  their  words,  their  deeds;  their  looks,  their  lives 
Have  lovers  ever  been  their  tennis  balls  ? 

Be  husbands  fearful  of  the  chastest  wives  ? 
All  men  do  these  affirm  ;  and  so  must  1 1 
Unless  Fidessa  give  to  me  the  lie. 


SONNET    LV  I  I. 

Hree  playfellows  (such  Three  were  never  seen 
In  Venus's  Court !)  upon  a  summer's  day, 
Met  altogether  on  a  pleasant  green, 
Intending  at  some  pretty  game  to  play. 
They  Dian,  Cupid,  and  Fidessa  were. 

Their  wager,  Beauty,  bow,  and  Cruelty ; 
The  conqueress  the  stakes  away  did  bear, 

Whose  fortune  then  was  it  to  win  all  three  ? 
Fidessa  !  which  doth  these,  as  weapons  use, 
To  make  the  greatest  heart,  her  will  obey : 
And  yet  the  most  obedient  to  refuse 

As  having  power,  poor  lovers  to  betray. 
With  these,  She  wounds,  She  heals,  gives  life  and  death 
More  power  hath  none,  that  lives  by  mortal  breath  ! 


294 


Fid e  s  s  a 


"B.  Griffin. 


SONNET    LVIII. 

Beauty  !  Siren  !  kept  with  Circe's  rod  ! 

The  faintest  good  in  seem,  but  foulest  ill ! 
The  sweetest  plague  ordained  for  man  by  GOD  ! 
The  pleasing  subject  of  presumptuous  will ! 
Th'alluring  object  of  unstayed  eyes  ! 
Friended  of  all,  but  unto  all  a  foe ! 
The  dearest  thing  that  any  creature  buys  ! 

And  vainest  too  (It  serves  but  for  a  shoe) ! 
In  seem,  a  heaven  ;  and  yet  from  bliss  exiling  ! 

Paying,  for  truest  service,  nought  but  pain  ! 
Young  men's  undoing !  Young  and  old  beguiling  ! 

Man's  greatest  loss,  though  thought  his  greatest  gain! 
True,  that  all  this,  with  pain  enough  I  prove ; 
And  yet  most  true,  I  will  Fidessa  love ! 


SONNET    LIX. 

0  I,  unto  a  cruel  tiger  play; 

That  preys  on  me,  as  wolf  upon  the  lambs  ? 
(Who  fear  the  danger,  both  of  night  and  day, 

And  run  for  succour  to  their  tender  dams) 
Yet  will  I  pray  (though  She  be  ever  cruel !) 

On  bended  knee,  and  with  submissive  heart 
She  is  the  fire,  and  I  must  be  the  fuel. 

She  must  inflict,  and  I  endure  the  smart. 
She  must,  She  shall  be  mistress  of  her  will ; 

And  I,  poor  I,  obedient  to  the  same  : 
As  fit  to  suffer  death,  as  She  to  kill ; 

As  ready  to  be  blamed,  as  She  to  blame. 
And  for  I  am  the  subject  of  her  ire, 
All  men  shall  know  thereby  my  love  entire. 


B.  Griffin.l 
IS96.J 


F  I  D  E  S  S  A  . 


295 


SONNET    LX. 

LEt  me  sigh,  weep,  wail,  and  cry  no  more ; 
Or  let  me  sigh,  weep,  wail,  cry  more  and  more  1 
Yea,  let  me  sigh,  weep,  wail,  cry  evermore  ; 
For  She  doth  pity  my  complaints  no  more 
Than  cruel  Pagan  or  the  savage  Moor: 
But  still  doth  add  unto  my  torments  more ; 
Which  grievous  are  to  me  by  so  much  more 
As  She  inflicts  them,  and  doth  wish  them  more. 
O  let  thy  mercy,  Merciless  !  be  never  more  ! 
So  shall  sweet  death  to  me  be  welcome,  more 
Than  is  to  hungry  beasts  the  grassy  moor, 
As  She  that  to  affliction,  adds  yet  more, 
Becomes  more  cruel  by  still  adding  more  ! 
Weary  am  I  to  speak  of  this  word  "  more  "  ; 
Yet  never  weary  She,  to  plague  me  more  ! 


SONNET    LXI. 

Idessa's  worth  in  time  begetteth  praise, 

Time,  praise  ;  Praise,  fame;  Fame,  wonderment 
Wonder,  fame,  praise,  time,  her  worth  do  raise 

To  highest  pitch  of  dread  astonishment. 
Yet  Time  in  time,  her  hardened  heart  bewrayeth  : 

And  Praise  itself,  her  cruelty  dispraiseth. 
So  that  through  Praise,  alas,  her  praise  decaycth  : 

And  that  which  makes  it  fall,  her  honour  raiscth. 
Most  strange  !  yet  true.     So  wonder  wonder  still, 

And  follow  fast  the  wonder  of  these  days  1 
For  well  I  know  (all  wonder  to  fulfil) 

Her  will  at  length  unto  my  will  obeys  : 
Meantime,  let  others  praise  her  constancy  i 

And  me  attend  upon  her  clemency  ! 


296 


Fid e s s a . 


U.  Griffin. 
1596 


SONNET    LXII. 


alOsT  true  that  I 


Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 
Most  true  that 


must  fair  Fidessa  love. 

I  fair  Fidessa  cannot  love. 

I  do  feel  the  pains  of  love. 

I  am  captive  unto  love. 

I  deluded  am  with  love. 

I  do  find  the  sleights  of  love. 

nothing  can  procure  her  love. 

I  must  perish  in  my  love. 

She  contemns  the  God  of  love. 

he  is  snared  with  her  love. 

She  would  have  me  cease  to  love. 

She  herself  alone  is  Love. 

though  She  hated,  I  would  love ! 

dearest  life  shall  end  with  love. 


B.   Griffin. 


FINIS. 

Talis  apud  tales,  talis  sub  tempore  tali 
Subque  meo  tali  judice,  talis  ero. 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

Certain  Sonnets,  adjoined 

to    the    amorous    Poem    of 
Dom    Diego    and    Gyneura, 

(v) 

By  R.    L.)    Gentleman. 

Ben  balla,  a  chi  fortuna  suona. 


AT    LONDON, 

Printed  for  Henry   Olney,  and  are  to    be   sold   at 

his  shop  in  Fleet  street,  near  the  Middle  Temple  Gate, 

1596. 


299 


To   the  most   worthily   honoured  and 

virtuously  beautified  Lady,  the  Lady  Anne 

G  l  e  m  n  h  a  m,    wife    to    the    most 

noble,  magnanimous,   and   worthy  Knight, 

Sir  H  E  N  RY  G  L  E  M  N  H  A  M  ,  &c. 

Madam, 

Our  many  honourable  virtues  having  tied  me  to 
your  eternal  service;    to  shew  some  part  of  my 
duty,  I  present  your  Ladyship  with    a  few  pas- 
sionate Sonnets  intermingled  with  the  Loves  of 
Dom  Diego  and  Gyneura. 

Deign,  gentle  Lady,  to  accept  them,  and  therein  shew  the 
greatness  of  your  benignity,  in  receiving  courteously  a  gift 
of  so  small  worth :  which  though  it  cannot  any  ways  equal 
either  the  number  of  your  virtues,  or  the  greatness  of  that 
noble  House,  whence  your  Ladyship  is  descended ;  impute  it 
not,  Madam,  to  my  defect  of  Judgement,  but  of  Fortune ; 
for  were  I  furnished  with  the  greatest  riches  that  blind 
goddess  could  bestow  on  a  man  of  my  state,  both  they  and  I 
would  fall  prostrate  at  your  feet,  and  ever  rest  at  your  Lady- 
ship's devotion. 

Yet,  Madam,  as  it  is,  it  is  a  Child  of  the  Muses,  and,  there- 
fore, worthy  to  be  cherished ;  conceived  in  the  brain  of  a 
gallant  Gentleman,  and  therefore  to  be  favoured :  sent  into 
the  world  by  me,  who  have  ever  honoured  your  Ladyship, 
and  therefore  crave  of  your  Ladyship  to  be  protected,  to 
whom  I  ever  wish  long  life,  lengthened  with  all  honourable 
happiness. 

Your  Ladyship's 

in  all  duty, 

Henry    O  l  n  e  y. 


30i 


[SONNETS.] 


SONNET     I. 

Hen  first  the  feathered  god  did  strike  my 
heart 
with  fatal  and  immedicable  wound, 
Leaving  behind  the  head  of  his  fell  dart; 
my  bloodless  body  fell  unto  the-  ground. 
And,  when  with  shame   I  reinforced    my 
might, 

boldly  to  gaze  on  her  so  heavenly  face, 
Huge  flames  of  fire  She  darted  from  her  light, 

which  since  have  scorched  me  in  most  piteous  case. 
To  quench  which  heat,  an  ocean  of  tears 

have  gushed  out  from  forth  my  red-swollen  eyes. 
But  deep-fetched  sighs,  this  raging  flame  uprears, 

and  blow  the  sparks  up  to  the  purple  skies : 
Whereat,  the  gods,  afraid  that  heaven  should  burn, 
Intreated  Love,  that  I,  for  e'er  might  mourn. 


302  D  I  E  L  L  A  .  [R-  L[in^ 

SONNET     II. 

Oon  as  the  azure-coloured  Gates  of  th'East 
were  set  wide  open  by  the  watchful  Morn, 
I  walked  abroad,  as  having  took  no  rest 
(for  nights  are  tedious  to  a  man  forlorn) ; 
And  viewing  well  each  pearl-bedewed  flower, 
then  waxing  dry  by  splendour  of  the  sun  : 
All  scarlet-hued  I  saw  him  'gin  to  lower 

and  blush,  as  though  some  heinous  act  were  done. 
At  this  amazed,  I  hied  me  home  amain, 
thinking  that  I,  his  anger  caused  had. 
And  at  his  set,  abroad  I  walked  again ; 

when,  lo,  the  moon  looked  wondrous  pale  and  sad. 
Anger,  the  one ;  and  envy  moved  the  other, 
To  see  my  Love  more  fair  than  Love's  fair  mother. 


SONNET     III. 

Wift-footed  Time  !  look  back  !  and  here  mark  well 
those  rare-shaped  parts  my  pen  shall  now  declare ! 

My  Mistress'  snow-white  Skin  doth  much  excel 
the  pure  soft  wool  Arcadian  sheep  do  bear ! 
Her  Hair  exceeds  gold  forced  in  smallest  wire, 

in  smaller  threads  than  those  Arachne  spun  ! 
Her  Eyes  are  crystal  fountains,  yet  dart  fire 

more  glorious  to  behold  than  midday  sun  ! 
Her  ivory  Front,  though  soft  as  purest  silk, 

looks  like  the  table  *  of  Olympic  Jove  !      [*  portrmt.\ 
Her  Cheeks  are  like  ripe  cherries  laid  in  milk  ! 

her  alabaster  Neck,  the  throne  of  Love  ! 
Her  other  parts  so  far  excel  the  rest, 
That  wanting  words,  they  cannot  be  expressed  ! 


R.  L[inche?n  71    i    c-    r     r     a 

1596.J  U  1  E  L  L  A  .  303 

SONNET    IV. 

Hat   sugared  terms,  what  all-persuading  art, 

what  sweet    mellifluous    words,  what   wounding 
looks, 
Love  used  for  his  admittance  to  my  heart  1 
such  eloquence  was  never  read  in  books  ! 
He  promised  Pleasure,  Rest,  and  Endless  Joy, 

Fruition  of  the  fairest  She  alive. 
His  pleasure,  pain;  rest,  trouble;  joy,  annoy; 

have  I  since  found  !  which  me,  of  bliss  deprive. 
The  Trojan  horse,  thus  have  I  now  let  in; 

wherein  enclosed  these  armed  men  were  placed. 
Bright  Eyes,  fair  Cheeks,  sweet  Lips,  and  milk-white  Skin, 

these  foes,  my  life  have  overthrown  and  razed. 
Fair  outward  shews  prove  inwardly  the  worst : 
Love  looketh  fair,  but  lovers  are  accurst  1 


SONNET    V. 

He  little  Archer  viewing  well  my  Love, 

stone-still  amazed,  admired  such  a  sight ; 
And  swore  he  knew  none  such  to  dwell  above : 
though  many  fair;  none,  so  conspicuous  bright 
With  that  enraged,  flamigerous  as  he  is, 

he  now  'gan  loathe  his  Psyche's  lovely  face ; 
And  swore  great  oaths,  "  to  rob  me  of  my  bliss," 
saying  that  "  earth  for  her,  was  too  too  base  !  " 
But  Cytherea  checked  her  lordly  son, 

commanding  him  to  bring  no  giglet  thither  1 
Fearing  indeed,  her  amorous  sports  were  done 

with  hotspur  Mars,  if  he  should  once  but  sec  her. 
If  then  her  beauty  move  the  gods  above  ; 
Let  all  men  judge,  if  I  have  cause  to  love  ! 


*  r 


304  DlELLA.  [R- LtinS! 

SONNET    VI. 

Irror  of  Beauty  !  Nature's  fairest  Child  ! 

Empress  of  Love!  my  heart's  high-prized  jewel! 
Learn  of  the  Dove,  to  love  and  to  be  mild  ! 

be  not  to  him  that  honours  thee,  so  cruel ! 
But  as  the  Asp,  deaf,  angry,  nothing  meek ; 

thou  will  not  listen  to  my  doleful  plaint  ! 
Nor  once  wilt  look  on  my  discoloured  cheek  ! 

which  wanting  blood,  causeth  me  oft  to  faint. 
Then,  silent  will  I  be  !  if  that  will  please  thee  : 

yet  so,  as  in  my  stead,  each  plain,  each  hill 
Shall  echo  forth  my  grief!  and  thereby  ease  me; 

for  I  myself,  of  speaking  have  my  fill. 
If  plains  and  hills  be  silent  in  my  pain  ; 
My  death  shall  speak !  and  tell  what  I  sustain  ! 


SONNET    VII. 

[Cf.  Barnes'  Parthenophil,  vol.  i.  p.  200,  and  Percy's  Coelia,  vol.  ii.  p.  146  sufra.\ 

Hen  Love  had  first  besieged  my  heart's  strong  wall, 
rampiered  and  countermured  with  Chastity, 
And  had  with  ordnance  made  his  tops  to  fall 
stooping  their  glory  to  his  surquedry  : 
I  called  a  parley,  and  withal  did  crave 

some  Composition,  or  some  friendly  Peace ; 
To  this  request,  he,  his  consent  soon  gave, 

as  seeming  glad  such  cruel  wars  should  cease. 
I,  nought  mistrusting,  opened  all  the  gates, 

yea,  lodged  him  in  the  palace  of  my  heart : 
When,  he,  in  dead  of  night,  he  seeks  his  mates, 
And  shews  each  traitor  how  to  play  his  part ; 
With  that,  they  fired  my  heart !  and  thence  'gan  fly ! 
Their  names,  Sweet  Smiles,  Fair  Face,  and  Piercing  Eye. 


R.  L[inchef] 


che  rn 

1596.  J 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET    VIII. 


JUD 


Ike  to  a  falcon  watching  for  a  flight, 

duly  attending  his  desired  game ; 
Have  I  oft  watched  and  marked  to  have  a  sight 

of  thy  fair  face,  exceeding  niggard  Fame  ! 
Thine  eyes,  those  seminaries  of  my  grief! 

have  been  more  gladsome  to  my  tired  sprite, 
Than  naked  savages  receive  relief 

by  comfort-bearing  warmth  of  Phgebus'  light. 
But  when  each  part  so  glorious  I  had  seen ; 

I  trembled  more  than  Autumn's  parched  leaves  ! 
Mine  eyes  were  greedy  whirlpools  sucking  in 

that  heavenly  Fair,  which  me  of  rest  bereaves. 
Then  as  thy  Beauty  thus  hath  conquered  me, 
Fair !  let  relenting  Pity  conquer  thee  ! 


SONNET     IX. 

Lot  not  thy  beauty  (Fairest,  yet  unkind  !) 

with  cruel  usage  of  a  yielding  heart  ! 
The  stoutest  Captain  scorns  such  bloody  mind : 

then  mingle  mercy,  where  thou  causedst  smart ! 
Let  him  not  die,  in  his  May-springing  days  ! 

that  living,  vows  to  honour  thee  for  ever. 
Shine  forth  some  pity  from  thy  sun-like  rays ! 

that  hard-frozed  hate  may  so  dissolve  and  sever  I 
0  were  thou  not  much  harder  than  a  flint, 

thou  hadst  ere  this,  been  melted  into  love  ! 
In  firmest  stone,  small  rain  doth  make  a  print : 

but  seas  of  tears  cannot  thy  hardness  move  ! 
Then,  wretched  I,  must  die  before  my  time  ! 
Blasted  and  spoiled  in  my  budding  prime. 


11. 


;o6  D  I  ELL  a  .  [R- Llin^! 

SONNET     X . 


Hen  Flora  vaunts  her  in  her  proud  array, 
clothing  fair  Tellus  in  a  spangled  gown; 
When  Boreas'  fury  is  exiled  away, 

and  all  the  welkin  cleared  from  angry  frown  : 
At  that  same  time,  all  Nature's  children  joy ; 

trees  leave,  flowers  bud,  plants  spring,  and  beasts  increase. 
Only  my  soul,  surcharged  with  deep  annoy, 

cannot  rejoice,  nor  sighs  nor  tears  can  cease : 
Only  the  grafts  of  sorrow  seem  to  grow ; 
set  in  my  heart,  no  other  spring  I  find. 
Delights  and  pleasures  are  o'ergrown  with  woe, 
.  laments  and  sobs  possess  my  weeping  mind. 
The  frost  of  grief  so  nips  Delight  at  root  : 
No  sun  but  She  can  do  it  any  boot. 


SONNET    XI. 

Hat  She  can  be  so  cruel  as  my  Love, 
or  bear  a  heart  so  pitiless  as  She  ? 
Whom    love,  looks,   words,  tears,   prayers  do  not 
move ; 
nor  sighs,  nor  vows  prevail  to  pity  me. 
She  calls  my  love,  "a  Sinon  to  her  heart!" 

"  my  looks,"  she  saith,  "are  like  the  crocodile's  !  " 
"  My  words  the  Sirens  sing,  with  guileful  art !  " 

tears,  "Circe's floods!"  sighs,  vows,  "deceitful guiles!" 
But  my  poor  heart  hath  no  interpreter 

but  love,  looks,  words,  tears,  prayers,  sighs,  or  vows ! 
Then  must  it  die  !  sith  She,  my  comforter, 

whate'er  I  do,  nor  liketh,  nor  allows. 
With  Titius,  thus  the  vulture  Sorrow  eats  me  ! 
With  steel-twigged  rods,  thus  tyrant  Cupid  beats  me ! 


R.  1  Uncne?n 
1596J 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET    XII 


30/ 


Hou  (like  the  fair-faced,  gold-encovered  book, 
whose  lines  are  stuffed  with  damned  heresies) 
Dost  in  thy  face,  bear  a  celestial  look ; 

when,  in  thy  heart,  live  hell-born  cruelties ! 
With  poisonous  toads,  the  clearest  spring  's  infected ; 

and  purest  lawn  's  nought  worth,  if  full  of  stains  ■ 
So  is  fair  Beauty,  when  true  love  's  rejected  ; 

when  coal-black  hate  within  the  heart  remains. 
Then  love,  my  Dear  !  let  that  be  Methridate 

to  overcome  the  venom  of  disdain  ! 
Be  pitiful !  tread  down  this  killing  hate  ! 

Convert  to  sugared  pleasure,  gall-ful  pain  ! 
O,  sith  Disdain  is  foe  unto  thy  Fair, 
Exile  him  thence !  there,  let  him  not  repair ! 


SONNET    XIII. 

Know,  within  my  mouth,  for  bashful  fear 

and  dread  of  your  disdain,  my  words  will  die  ! 
I  know,  I  shall  be  stricken  dumb,  my  Dear ! 
with  doubt  of  your  unpitiful  reply. 
I  know,  when  as  I  shall  before  you  lie 

prostrate  and  humble,  craving  help  of  you  ; 
Misty  aspects  will  cloud  your  sun-bright  eye, 

and  scornful  looks  o'ershade  your  beauty's  hue. 
I  know,  when  I  shall  plead  my  love  so  true, 
so  stainless,  constant,  loyal,  and  upright ; 
My  truthful  pleadings  will  not  cause  you  rue 

The  ne'er-heard  state  of  my  distressed  plight. 
I  know,  when  I  shall  come  with  faee  bedight 
with  streaming  tears,  fallen  from  myfountain  - 


303  D  I  E  L  L  A  .  [R  irm?* 

SONNET     XIII. 

[The  same  number  is  repeated,  a  kind  of  double  Sonnet  on  the  same  thought,  being  attempted.] 


Reathing  forth  sighs  of  most  heart-breaking  might, 
my  tears,  my  sighs,  and  me,  you  will  despise  ! 

I  know,  when  with  the  power  that  in  me  lies, 
and  all  the  prayers  and  vows  that  women  move, 
I  shall  in  humblest  mercy-moving  wise, 

intreat,  beseech,  desire,  and  beg  your  love  : 
I  know,  sweet  Maiden  !  all  will  not  remove 

flint-hearted  rigour  from  your  rocky  breast  ! 
But  all  my  means,  my  suit,  and  what  I  prove, 

prove  bad,  and  I  must  live  in  all  unrest. 
Dying  in  life,  and  living  still  in  death, 
And  yet  nor  die,  nor  draw  a  life-like  breath. 


SONNET    XIV. 

Hen  broad -faced  rivers  turn  unto  their  fountains 
and  hungry  wolves  devoured  are  by  sheep ; 

When  marine  dolphins  play  on  snow-tipped  moun- 
tains, 

and  foul-formed  bears  do  in  the  ocean  keep  : 
Then  shall  I  leave  to  love,  and  cease  to  burn 

in  these  hot  flames,  wherein  I  now  delight ! 
But  this  I  know,  the  rivers  ne'er  return, 

nor  silly  sheep  with  ravening  wolves  dare  fight, 
Nor  dolphins  leave  the  seas,  nor  bears,  the  woods ; 

for  Nature  bids  them  all  to  keep  their  kind. 
Then  eyes,  rain  forth  your  over-swelled  floods, 

till,  drowned  in  such  seas,  may  make  you  blind ! 
Then,  Heart's  Delight !  sith  I  must  love  thee  ever, 
Love  me  again  !  and  let  thy  love  persever ! 


R.  L[inche?n 
1596.J 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET    XV 


309 


O  sooner  leaves  Hyperion,  Thetis'  bed, 

and  mounts  his  coach  to  post  from  thence  away ; 
Richly  adorning  fair  Leucothea's  head, 
giving  to  mountains,  tincture  from  his  ray  : 
But  straight  I  rise,  where  I  could  find  no  rest, 

where  visions  and  fantasies  appear  ; 
And  when,  with  small  ado,  my  body  's  dresst, 

abroad  I  walk,  to  think  upon  my  Dear ! 
Where,  under  umbrage  of  some  aged  tree, 
with  lute  in  hand  I  sit  and,  sighing,  say, 
"  Sweet  groves,  tell  forth  with  echo,  what  you  see ! 

good  trees,  bear  witness,  who  is  my  decay ! 
And  thou,  my  soul,  speak  !  speak  what  rest  I  have, 
When  each  our  joy's  despair  doth  make  me  rave  !  " 


SONNET    XVI. 

Ut  thou,  my  dear  sweet-sounding  lute,  be  still ! 
repose  thy  troubled  strings  upon  this  moss  ! 
Thou  hast  full  often  eased  me  'gainst  my  will  : 
lie  down  in  peace,  thy  spoil  were  my  great  loss ! 
I'll  speak  enough  of  her  too  cruel  heart, 

enough  to  move  the  stony  rocks  to  ruth  ! 
And  cause  these  trees  weep  tears  to  hear  my  smart, 

though  cruel  She  will  not  once  weigh  my  truth. 
Her  face  is  of  the  purest  white  and  red, 

her  eyes  are  crystal,  and  her  hair  is  gold. 
The  World,  for  shape  with  garlands  crown  her  head, 

and  yet  a  tigress'  heart  dwells  in  this  mould. 
But  I  must  love  her,  Tigress  !  too  too  much  ! 
Forced;  must  I  love!  because  I  find  none  such. 


IO 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 


[~R.  L[inche?) 
L  1596. 


SONNET     XVII. 

He  sun-scorched  seaman,  when  he  sees  the  seas, 

all  in  a  fury,  hoist  him  to  the  sky ; 
And  throw  him  down  again,  as  waves  do  please, 

(so  chased  clouds,  from  ^Eol's  mastiffs  fly  !) 
In  such  distress,  provideth  with  great  speed 

all  means  to  save  him  from  the  tempest's  rage 
He  shews  his  wit,  in  such  like  time  of  need, 

the  big  swoll'n  billows'  fury  to  assuage. 
But  foolish  I,  althouth  I  see  my  death, 

and  feel  her  proud  disdain  too  feelingly 
("Which  me  of  all  felicity  bereaveth)  : 

yet  seek  no  means  t'  escape  this  misery. 
So  am  I  charmed  with  heart-enchanting  beauty, 
That  still  to  wail,  I  think  it  is  my  duty. 


SONNET     XVIII. 


Upid  had  done  some  heinous  act  or  other, 

that  caused  Idalea  whip  him  very  sore. 
The  stubborn  boy  away  runs  from  his  mother, 

protesting  stoutly  to  return  no  more. 
By  chance,  I  met  him  ;  who  desired  relief, 

and  craved  that  I,  some  lodging  would  him  give. 
Pitying  his  looks,  which  seemed  drowned  in  grief, 

I  took  him  home ;  there  thinking  he  should  live. 
But  see  the  Boy  !     Envying  at  my  life 

(which  never  sorrow,  never  love  had  tasted), 
He  raised  within  my  heart  such  uncouth  strife  ; 

that,  with  the  same,  my  body  now  is  wasted, 
By  thankless  Love,  thus  vilely  am  I  used ! 
By  using  kindness,  I  am  thus  abused  ; 


R.  L[inche?f| 
1596J 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET     XIX. 


1 1 


Hen  Night  returns  back  to  his  ugly  mansion, 

and  clear-faced  Morning  makes  her  bright  uprise; 
In  sorrow's  depth,  I  murmur  out  his  cantion 

(salt  tears  distilling  from  my  dewy  eyes), 
"  0  thou  deceitful  Somnus,  god  of  dreams  ! 

cease  to  afflict  my  over-pained  sprite 
With  vain  illusions,  and  idle  themes  ! 

thy  spells  are  false!  thou  canst  not  charm  aright.! 
For  when,  in  bed,  I  think  t'embrace  my  Love 

(enchanted  by  thy  magic  so  to  think), 
Vain  are  my  thoughts  !  'tis  empty  air,  I  prove ! 

that  still  I  wail,  till  watching  make  me  wink : 
And  when  I  wink,  I  wish  I  ne'er  might  wake, 
But  sleeping,  carried  to  the  Stygian  lake." 


SONNET     XX. 

He  strongest  pine,  that  Queen  FERONIA  hath, 

growing  within  her  woody  empiry, 
Is  soon  thrown  down  by  Boreas'  wintry  wrath, 

if  one  root  only  his  supporter  be. 
The  tallest  ship  that  cuts  the  angry  wave, 

and  plows  the  seas  of  Saturn's  second  sun, 
If  but  one  anchor  for  a  journey  have, 

when  that  is  lost,  'gainst  every  rock  doth  run. 
I  am  that  pine,  fair  Love  !  that  ship  am  I  ! 

and  thou,  that  anchor  art  and  root  to  me  1 
If  then  thou  fail  (O  fail  not !)  I  must  die  I 

and  pine  away  in  endless  misery  ! 
But  words  prevail  not !  nor  can  sighs  devise 
To  move  thy  heart,  if  bent  to  tyrannize. 


312  D  I  ELL  A  .  [*-I*Bgg 

SONNET     XXI. 

S  winter's  rage,  young  plants  unkindly  spilleth ; 

as  hail,  green  corn;  and  lightnings,  flowers  perish  ; 
So  man's  decay  is  Love !  whose  heart  it  killetlv 

if  in  his  soul,  he  carefully  it  cherish. 
O  how  alluringly  he  offers  grace ; 

and  breathes  new  hope  of  life  into  our  thought. 
With  cheerful,  pleasant  (yet  deceitful)  face 

he  creeps  and  fawns,  till,  in  his  net  w'  are  caught ; 
Then,  when  he  sees  us  captives  by  him  led, 

and  sees  us  prostrate,  humbly  craving  help, 
So  fierce  a  lion,  Lybia  never  bred  ! 

nor  adder's  sting  !  nor  any  tigress'  whelp  ! 
O  blest  be  they  that  never  felt  his  force ! 
Love  hath,  nor  pity,  mercy,  nor  remorse  ! 


SONNET     XXII. 

Ook,  as  a  bird,  through  sweetness  of  the  call, 

doth  clean  forget  the  fowler's  guileful  trap ; 
Or  one  that  gazing  on  the  stars,  doth  fall 

in  some  deep  pit,  bewailing  his  mishap : 
So  wretched  I,  whilst,  with  Lynceus'  eyes, 

I  greedily  beheld  her  angel's  face, 
Was  straight  entangled  with  such  subtilties, 

as,  ever  since,  I  live  in  woful  case. 
Her  cheeks  were  roses  laid  in  crystal  glass  ; 

her  breasts,  two  apples  of  Hesperides; 
Her  voice,  more  sweet  than  famous  Thamiras, 

reviving  death  with  Doric  melodies  : 
I,  hearkening  so  to  this  attractive  call, 
Was  caught,  and  ever  since  have  lived  in  thrall. 


R.  L[inche A"] 
IS96.J 


D  I  E  L  L  A  .  313 

SONNET     XXIII. 

j]Y  life's  preserver  !  hope  of  my  heart's  bliss  ! 

when  shall  I  know  the  doom  of  life  or  death  5 
Hell's  fearful  torments  easier  are,  than  this 

soul's  agony,  wherein  I  now  do  breathe. 
If  thou  wouldst  look  !  this  my  tear-stained  face, 

dreary  and  wan,  far  differing  from  what  it  was, 
Would  well  reveal  my  most  tormentful  case, 

and  shew  thy  Fair,  my  Grief  as  in  a  glass. 
Look,  as  a  deer  late  wounded  very  sore, 

among  the  herd,  full  heavily  doth  feed  ; 
So  do  I  live  !  expecting  evermore, 

when  as  my  wounded  heart  should  cease  to  bleed. 
How  patient  then,  would  I  endure  the  smart 
Of  pitchy-countenanced  Death's  dead-doing  dart ! 


SONNET    XXIV. 

Hen  leaden-hearted  sleep  had  shut  mine  e\ 

and  close  o'erdrawn  their  windowlets  of  light  ; 
Whose  wateriness  the  fire  of  grief  so  dries, 

that  weep  they  could  no  longer,  sleep  they  might ! 
Methought,  I  sank  down  to  a  pool  of  grief, 

and  then,  methought,  such  sinking  much  did  please  me  : 
But  when  I,  down  was  plunged  past  all  relief; 

with  flood-filled  mouth,  I  called  that  some  would  ease  me  I 
Whereat,  methought,  I  saw  my  dearest  Love, 

fearing  my  drowning,  reach  her  hand  to  mine ; 
Who  pulled  so  hard  to  get  me  up  above, 

that  with  the  pull,  sleep  did  forsake  mine  even. 
But  when  awaked,  I  saw  'twas  but  a  dream  ; 
I  wished  to  have  slept,  and  perished  in  that  Btream. 


M 


D  1  E  L  L  A  . 
SONNET     XXV. 


"R.  L[inchef] 
•596- 


Ough  storms  have  calms,  lopt  boughs  do  grow  again; 
the  naked  Winter  is  reclothed  by  Spring  ; 
No  year  so  dry  but  there  doth  fall  some  rain : 
Nature  is  kind,  save  me,  to  everything. 
Only  my  griefs  do  never  end  nor  cease  ! 

no  ebb  doth  follow  my  still-flowing  tears ! 
My  sighs  are  storms,  which  never  can  appease 

their  furious  blasts,  procured  by  endless  cares ! 
Then  Sighs  and  Sobs  tell  Tantalus,  "  he's  blest !  " 

go  fly  to  Titius,  tell  him  "  he  hath  pleasure  !  " 
So  tell  Ixion  "  though  his  wheel  ne'er  rest ; 

his  pains  are  sports,  imposed  with  some  measure !  " 
Bid  them  be  patient !  bid  them  look  on  me, 
And  they  shall  see  the  Map  of  Misery. 


SONNET     XXVI. 

He  love-hurt  heart,  which  tyrant  Cupid  wounds, 
(proudly  insulting  o'er  his  conquered  prey) 
Doth  bleed  afresh  where  pleasure  most  abounds : 
for  Mirth  and  Mourning  always  make  a  fray. 
Look,  as  a  bird  sore  bruised  with  a  blow 

(lately  dividing  notes  most  sweetly  singing), 
To  hear  her  fellows,  how  in  tunes  they  flow, 

doth  droop  and  pine,  as  though  her  knell  were  ringing. 
The  heavy-thoughted  prisoner,  full  of  doubt, 

dolefully  sitting  in  a  close-barred  cage, 
Is  half  contented  ;  till  he  looketh  out. 

he  sees  each  free  :  then  storms  he  in  a  rage ! 
The  sight  of  Pleasure  trebleth  every  pain  ; 
As  small  brooks  swell,  and  are  enraged  with  rain. 


R-LCinCSJ  D  IELLA. 


3*5 

SONNET     XXVII. 


He  heaven's  herald  may  not  make  compare 
of  working  words,  which  so  abound  in  thee. 
Thy  honey-dewed  tongue  exceeds  his  far, 
in  sweet  discourse  and  tuneful  melody. 
Th'  amber-coloured  tress  which  Berenice 
for  her  true-loving  Ptholomeus,  vowed 
Within  Idalea's  sacred  Aphrodrice, 

is  worthless,  with  thy  locks  to  be  allowed. 
To  thee,  my  thoughts  are  consecrate,  dear  Love  ! 

my  words  and  phrases  bound  to  please  thine  ears  ! 
My  looks  are  such,  as  any  heart  could  move  : 

I  still  solicit  thee  with  sighs  and  tears  ! 
O  let  not  hate  eclipse  thy  beauty's  shine  I 
Then  none  would  deem  thee  earthly,  but  divine. 


SONNET    XXVIII. 

Eary  with  serving,  where  I  naught  could  get ; 

I  thought  to    cross  great  Neptune's  greatest  seas, 
To  live  in  exile  :  but  my  drift  was  let 
by  cruel  Fortune,  spiteful  of  such  ease. 
The  ship  I  had  to  pass  in,  was  my  Mind  ; 

greedy  Desire  was  topsail  of  the  same, 
My  Tears  were  surges,  Sighs  did  serve  for  wind, 

of  all  my  ship,  Despair  was  chiefest  frame  ; 
Sorrow  was  Master,  Care,  the  cable  rope  ; 

Grief  was  the  mainmast,  Love,  the  captain  oi  it ; 
He  that  did  rule  the  helm  was  foolish  Hope, 

but  Beauty  was  the  rock  that  my  ship  split, 
Which  since  hath  made  such  shipwreck  of  my  Joy, 
That  still  I  swim  in  th'  ocean  of  Annoy. 


i6 


D  I  E  L  L  A 


("R.  L[inche?] 


SONNET     XXIX. 

Ease,  Eyes,  to  cherish  with  still  flowing  tears, 
the  almost  withered  roots  of  dying  grief! 
Dry  up  your  running  brooks !  and  dam  your  meres! 
and  let  my  body  die  for  moist  relief! 
But  Death  is  deaf!  for  well  he  knows  my  pain, 

my  slackless  pain,  hell's  horror  doth  exceed. 
There  is  no  hell  so  black  as  her  disdain ! 

whence  cares,  sighs,  sorrows,  and  all  griefs  do  breed. 
Instead  of  sleep,  when  day  incloistered  is 

in  dusty  prison  of  infernal  night, 
With  broad-waked  eyes,  I  wail  my  miseries ; 

and  if  I  wink,  I  fear  some  ugly  sight, 
Such  fearful  dreams  do  haunt  my  troubled  mind : 
My  Love  's  the  cause,  'cause  She  is  so  unkind. 


SONNET     XXX. 

E  that  can  count  the  candles  of  the  sky, 
reckon  the  sands  whereon  Pactolus  flows, 
Or  number  numberless  small  atomie[s], 
what  strange  and  hideous  monsters  Nilus  shows, 
What  mis-shaped  beasts  vast  Africa  doth  yield, 

what  rare-formed  fishes  live  in  the  ocean, 
What  coloured  flowers  do  grow  in  Tempe's  field, 

how  many  hours  are  since  the  world  began : 
Let  him,  none  else,  give  judgement  of  my  grief ! 

let  him  declare  the  beauties  of  my  Love  ! 
And  he  will  say  my  pains  pass  all  relief : 

and  he  will  judge  her  for  a  Saint  above ! 
But,  as  those  things,  there's  no  man  can  unfold 
So,  nor  her  Fair,  nor  my  Grief  may  be  told  ! 


R.  L[inche?n 
1 596  J 


D  I E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET    XXXI. 


3*7 


Air  ivory  Brow,  the  board  Love  banquets  on  ! 
sweet  Lips  of  coral  hue,  but  silken  softness ! 
Fair  Suns  that  shine,  when  Phgebus'  eyes  are  gone! 
sweet  Breath  that  breathes  incomparable  sweet- 
ness ! 
Fair  Cheeks  of  purest  roses  red  and  white  ! 

sweet  Tongue  containing  sweeter  thing  than  sweet ! 
O  that  my  Muse  could  mount  a  lofty  flight, 
and  were  not  all  so  forceless,  and  unmeet 
To  blaze  the  beauty  of  thy  several  shine, 

And  tell  the  sweetness  of  thy  sundry  taste  ! 
Able  of  none  but  of  the  Muses  nine, 

to  be  arightly  honoured  and  graced. 
The  first  so  fair,  so  bright,  so  purely  precious  1 
The  last  so  sweet,  so  balmy,  so  delicious ! 


SONNET     XXXII. 

He  last  so  sweet,  so  balmy,  so  delicious! 

lips,    breath,    and   tongue,  which    I    delight    to 
drink  on : 
The  first  so  fair,  so  bright,  so  purely  precious ! 
brow,    eyes,    and   cheeks,    which    still    I   joy  to 
think  on  ; 
But  much  more  joy  to  gaze,  and  aye  to  look  on. 

those  lily  rounds  which  ceaseless  hold  their  moving, 
From  whence  my  prisoned  eyes  would  ne'er  be  gone ; 

which  to  such  beauties  are  exceeding  loving. 
O  that  I  might  but  press  their  dainty  swelling ! 

and  thence  depart,  to  which  must  now  be  hidden, 
And  which  my  crimson  verse  abstains  from  telling; 

because  by  chaste  ears,  I  am  so  forbidden. 
There,  in  the  crystal-paved  Vale  of  Pleasure, 
Lies  locked  up,  a  world  of  richest  treasure. 


1 8  D  JELL  A.  [R-L[inCS. 

SONNET    XXXIII. 

Hinking  to  close  my  over-watched  eyes, 

and  stop  the  sluice  of  their  uncessant  flowing ; 
I  laid  me  down ;  when  each  one  'gan  to  rise : 

new  risen  Sol  his  flame-like  countenance  shewing. 
But  Grief,  though  drowsy  ever,  yet  never  sleeps ; 

but  still  admits  fresh  intercourse  of  thought : 
Duly  the  passage  of  each  hour  he  keeps, 

nor  would  he  suffer  me  with  sleep  be  caught. 
Some  broken  slumbers,  Morpheus  had  lent 

(who  greatly  pitied  my  want  of  rest) ; 
Whereat  my  heart,  a  thousand  thanks  him  sent : 

and  vowed,  to  serve  him  he  was  ready  prest. 
Let  restless  nights,  days,  hours  do  their  spite ; 
I'll  love  her  still !  and  Love  for  me  shall  fight ! 


SONNET    XXXIV. 

Hy  should  a  Maiden's  heart  be  of  that  proof 

as  to  resist  the  sharp-pointed  dart  of  Love  ? 
My  Mistress'  eye  kills  strongest  man  aloof; 

methinks,  he's  weak,  that  cannot  quail  a  Dove  ! 
A  lovely  Dove  so  fair  and  so  divine, 

able  to  make  what  cynic  soe'er  liveth, 
Upon  his  knees,  to  beg  of  their  bright  eyen, 

one  smiling  look,  which  life  from  death  reviveth. 
The  frozen  heart  of  cold  Zenocrates 

had  been  dissolved  into  hot  Desire, 
Had  Phryne  cast  such  sunbeams  from  her  eyes 

(such  eyesare  cause  that  my  heart  flames  in  fire !) : 
And  yet  with  patience  I  must  take  my  woe ; 
In  that  my  dearest  Love  will  have  it  so. 


R.  L[inche?l 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 

SONNET    XXXV 

Nd  this  enchantment,  Love!  of  my  desires! 

let  me  no  longer  languish  for  thy  love  ! 
Joy  not,  to  see  me  thus  consume  in  fires  ! 
hut  let  my  cruel  pains,  thy  hard  heart  move  ! 
And  now,  at  last,  with  pitiful  regard, 

eye  me,  thy  lover  !  'lorn  for  lack  of  thee  ! 
Which,  dying,  lives  in  hope  of  sweet  reward, 

which  hate  hath  hitherto  withheld  from  me. 
Constant  have  I  been,  still  in  Fancy  fast, 

ordained  by  heavens  to  doat  upon  my  Fair, 
Nor  will  I  e'er,  so  long  as  life  shall  last, 

say  any  "  's  fairer  !  breathing  vital  air." 
But  when  the  ocean  sands  shall  lie  unwet ; 
That  shall  my  soul,  to  love  thee,  Dear !  forget ! 


3*9 


SONNET    XXXVI. 

Ong  did  I  wish,  before  I  could  attain 

the  looked-for  sight,  I  so  desired  to  see ; 
Too  soon,  at  last  I  saw  what  bred  my  bane, 
and  ever  since  hath  sore  tormented  me. 
I  saw  Herself,  whom  had  I  never  seen, 

my  wealth  of  bliss  had  not  been  turned  to  bale. 
Greedy  regard  of  Her,  my  heart's  sole  queen, 

hath  changed  my  summer's  sun  to  winter's  hail, 
How  oft  have  I,  since  that  first  fatal  hour, 

beheld  her  all-fair  shape  with  begging  eye, 
Till  She,  unkind,  hath  killed  me  with  a  lower. 

and  bade  my  humble-suing  looks  look  by. 
O  pity  me,  fair  Love  !  and  highest  fame 
Shall  blazed  be,  in  honour  of  thy  name. 


20 


D  I  E  L  L  A  . 


"R.  L[inche?] 
1596. 


SONNET    XXXVII. 

Id  I  not  love  her  as  a  lover  ought, 

with  purest  zeal  and  faithfulness  of  heart ; 
Then  She  had  cause  to  set  my  love  at  naught, 
and  I  had  well  deserved  to  feel  this  smart ! 
But  holding  her  so  dearly  as  I  do, 

as  a  rare  jewel  of  most  high  esteem  ; 
She  most  unkindly  wounds  and  kills  me,  so, 

my  ne'er-stained  troth  most  causeless  to  misdeem  ! 
Never  did  one  account  of  woman  more 

than  I  of  her  !  nor  ever  woman  yet 
Respected  less,  or  held  in  lesser  store 

her  lover's  vows,  than  She  by  mine  doth  set ! 
What  resteth  then  ?  but  I  despair  and  die ! 
That  so  my  death  may  glut  her  ruthless  eye. 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

[This  is  a  Preface  to  the  Poem  of  Diego  and  Gyneura,  which  was  originally  included 
in  the  same  volume  as  the  Diella  Sonnets.] 


1 


Earken  awhile,  Diella  !  to  a  story 

that  tells  of  Beauty,  Love,  and  great  Disdain  ! 
The  last,  caused  by  suspect ;  but  She  was  sorry 
that  took  that  cause,  true  love  so  much  to  pain. 
For  when  She  knew  his  faith  to  be  unfeigned, 

spotless,  sincere,  most  true  and  pure  unto  her ; 
She  joyed  as  if  a  kingdom  She  had  gained  ; 

and  loved  him  now,  as  when  he  first  did  woo  her. 
I  ne'er  incurred  suspicion  of  my  truth  ; 

fairest  Diella  !  why  wilt  thou  be  cruel  ? 
impose  some  end  to  undeserved  ruth  ! 

and  learn  by  others,  how  to  quench  hate's  fuel ! 
Read  all,  my  Dear !  but  chiefly  mark  the  end ! 
And  be  to  me,  as  She  to  Him,  a  friend ! 


C  H  L  O  R  I  S, 

or 

The    Complaint    of  the 

passionate   despised 

Shepherd. 

By  William  Smith, 


art 


\ 

Imprinted  at  London^ 

by  Edmund  Bollifant. 
1596. 


mm  win  mm  m\m  w[m  wilt  ni*  *[w  *m  *\*  wkw  mm  w\*  »4w  *;*  »j,w 

:  Wit  WM  WM  WM  WM  WM  WM  WM  WM  »'«  *'*  »'*  »'«  a'*  a'*  **« 


sae- 
siil' 

m- 


323 

To  the  most  excellent  and  learned 
Shepherd  Colin  Clout 
[i.e.  Edmund  Spenser]. 

Olin,  my  dear  and  most  entire  beloved, 
My  Muse  audacious  stoops  her  pitch  to  thee ! 
Desiring  that  thy  patience  be  not  moved 
By  these  rude  lines,  written  here  you  see. 
Fain  would  my  Muse,  whom  cruel  Love  hath  wronged, 
Shroud  her  love-labours  under  thy  protection ! 
And  I  myself,  with  ardent  zeal,  have  longed 
That  thou  mightst  know,  to  thee  my  true  affection. 

Therefore,  good  COLIN,  graciously  accept 
A  few  sad  Sonnets  which  my  Muse  hath  framed : 
Though  they  but  newly  from  the  shell  are  crept, 
Suffer  them  not  by  envy  to  be  blamed ! 
But,  underneath  the  shadow  of  thy  wings, 
Give  warmth  to  these  young-hatched  orphan  things ! 

Give  warmth  to  these  young-hatched  orphan  things ! 
Which,  chill  with  cold,  to  thee  for  succour  creep. 
They  of  my  study  are  the  budding  springs  : 
Longer  I  cannot  them  in  silence  keep. 

They  will  be  gadding !  sore  against  my  mind. 
But,  courteous  Shepherd,  if  they  run  astray, 
Conduct  them,  that  they  may  the  pathway  find  : 
And  teach  them  how  the  Mean  observe  they  may ! 

Thou  shalt  them  ken  by  their  discording  notes ! 
Their  weeds  are  plain,  such  as  poor  shepherds  wear  ; 
Unshapen,  torn,  and  ragged  are  their  coats : 
Yet  forth  they  wandering  are,  devoid  of  fear. 

They  which  have  tasted  of  the  Muses'  spring, 

I  hope,  will  smile  upon  the  tunes  they  sing. 

W.  Smith. 
FINIS. 


324 


71?  all  Shepherds  in  general. 

Ou  whom  the  World  admires  for  rarest  style, 
You  which  have  sung  the  Sonnets  of  True 

Love, 
Upon  my  maiden  verse  with  favour  smile  ! 
Whose  weak-penned  Muse,  to  fly  too  soon  doth  prove  : 
Before  her  feathers  have  their  full  perfection, 
She  soars  aloft,  pricked  on  by  blind  affection. 

You  whose  deep  wits,  ingine,  and  industry, 
The  everlasting  palm  of  praise  have  won  ! 
You  paragons  of  learned  Poesy 
Favour  these  mists  !  which  fall  before  you  sun  : 
Intentions  leading  to  a  more  effect, 
If  you  them  grace  but  with  your  mild  aspect. 

And  Thou,  the  Genius  of  my  ill  tuned  note  ! 
Whose  beauty  urged  hath  my  rustic  vein, 
Through  mighty  oceans  of  despair  to  float  ; 
That  I  in  rhyme  thy  cruelty  complain  : 
Vouchsafe  to  read  these  lines  both  harsh  and  bad  ! 
Nuntiates  of  Woe,  with  sorrow  being  clad. 

W.  Smith, 


CHLORIS. 


SONNET    I. 

Ourteous  Calliope,  vouchsafe  to  lend 
Thy  helping  hand  to  my  untuned  Song  ! 
And  grace  these  Lines,  which   I   to   write 

pretend, 
Compelled  by  love  which  doth  poor  Corin 
wrong. 

And  those,  thy  sacred  Sisters,  I  beseech, 
Which  on  Parnassus'  Mount  do  ever  dwell, 
To  shield  my  country  Muse  and  rural  speech 
By  their  divine  authority  and  spell. 

Lastly  to  thee,  O  Pan,  the  shepherds'  King  ; 
And  you  swift  footed  Dryades,  I  call ! 
Attend  to  hear  a  swain  in  verse  to  sing 
Sonnets  of  her  that  keeps  his  heart  in  thrall ! 
O  CHLORIS,  weigh  the  task  I  undertake  ! 
Thy  beauty,  subject  of  my  Song  I  make. 


SONNET    II. 

Hv  beauty,  subject  of  my  Song  I  make  ; 
O  fairest  Fair  !  on  whom  depends  my  life  : 
Refuse  not  then  the  task  I  undertake 
To  please  thy  rage,  and  to  appease  my  strife  ! 
But  with  one  smile  remunerate  my  toil  ; 
None  other  guerdon  I,  of  thee  desire. 
Give  not  my  lowly  Muse  new-hatched  the  foil, 
But  warmth  ;  that  she  may  at  the  length  aspire 

Unto  the  temples  of  thy  star-bright  Eyes  ; 
Upon  whose  round  orbs  perfect  Beauty  sits  : 
From  whence  such  glorious  crystal  Beams  arise 
As  best  my  CHLORIS'  seemly  Face  befits. 

Which  Eyes,  which  Beauty,  which  bright  <  rystal  Beam, 
Which  Face  of  thine,  hath  made  my  love  extreme. 


326 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


I"W.  Smith. 

L      1596- 


SONNET    III. 

Eed,  silly  sheep  !  although  your  keeper  pineth  ; 
Yet,  like  to  TANTALUS,  doth  see  his  food. 
Skip  you  and  leap !  now  bright  APOLLO  shineth 
Whilst  I  bewail  my  sorrows  in  yon  wood  : 
Where  woeful  PHILOMELA  doth  record 
(And  sings  with  notes  of  sad  and  dire  lament), 
The  tragedy  wrought  by  her  sister's  Lord. 
I'll  bear  a  part  in  her  black  discontent ! 

That  pipe,  which  erst  was  wont  to  make  you  glee, 
Upon  these  downs  whereon  you  careless  graze, 
Shall  to  her  mournful  music  tuned  be ! 
Let  not  my  plaints,  poor  lambkins,  you  amaze ! 
There,  underneath  that  dark  and  dusky  bower, 
Whole  showers  of  Tears  to  CHLORIS  I  will  pour ! 


SONNET    IV. 

HOLE  showers  of  Tears  to  CHLORIS  I  will  pour 
As  true  oblations  of  my  sincere  love. 
If  that  will  not  suffice,  most  fairest  Flower ! 
Then  shall  my  Sighs,  thee  to  pity  move. 
If  neither  Tears  nor  Sighs  can  ought  prevail ; 
My  streaming  Blood  thine  anger  shall  appease ! 
This  hand  of  mine  by  vigour  shall  assail 
To  tear  my  heart  asunder,  thee  to  please ! 

Celestial  powers,  on  you  I  invocate ! 
You  know  the  chaste  affections  of  my  mind  ! 
I  never  did  my  faith  yet  violate ! 
Why  should  my  CHLORIS  then  be  so  unkind  ? 

That  neither  Tears,  nor  Sighs,  nor  streaming  Blood 
Can  unto  mercy  move  her  cruel  mood. 


W.  Smith."! 
1596J 


C  H  L  O  R  I  S. 

SONNET   V. 


327 


Ou  Fauns  and  Silvans,  when  my  Chloris  brings 
Her  flocks  to  water  in  your  pleasant  plains, 
Solicit  her  to  pity  Corin's  stings  ! 
The  smart  whereof,  for  her,  he  still  sustains. 
For  she  is  ruthless  of  my  woeful  song. 
My  oaten  reed  she  not  delights  to  hear. 
O  Chloris  !  Chloris  !  Corin  thou  dost  wrong ; 
Who  loves  thee  better  than  his  own  heart  dear. 

The  flames  of  Etna  are  not  half  so  hot 
As  is  the  fire  which  thy  disdain  hath  bred. 
Ah,  cruel  Fates  !  why  do  you  then  besot 
Poor  Corin's  soul  with  love  ?  when  love  is  fled ! 
Either  cause  cruel  Chloris  to  relent, 
Or  let  me  die  upon  the  wound  she  sent  1 


SONNET    VI. 

Ou  lofty  Pines,  co-partners  of  my  woe, 
When  Chloris  sitteth  underneath  your  shade  ; 
To  her  those  sighs  and  tears,  I  pray  you  show, 
Whilst  you  attending,  I  for  her  have  made. 
Whilst  you  attending  dropped  have  sweet  balm, 
In  token  that  you  pity  my  distress  : 
ZEPHIRUS  hath  your  stately  boughs  made  calm  ; 
Whilst  I,  to  you  my  sorrows  did  express. 

The  neighbour  mountains  bended  have  their  tops, 
When  they  have  heard  my  rueful  melody ; 
And  Elves,  in  rings  about  me  leap  and  hop, 
To  frame  my  passions  to  their  jollity. 

Resounding  echoes,  from  their  obscure  caves 
Reiterate  what  most  my  fancy  craves. 


328 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


"W.  Smith. 
1596' 


SONNET    VII. 

Hat  need  I  mourn  ?  seeing  PAN,  our  sacred  King, 
Was,  of  that  Nymph,  fair  Syrinx  coy,  disdained. 
The  World's  great  Light,  which  comforteth  each 
thing, 
All  comfortless  for  Daphne's  sake  remained. 

If  gods  can  find  no  help  to  heal  the  sore 
Made  by  Love's  shafts,  which  pointed  are  with  fire ; 
Unhappy  CORIN,  then  thy  chance  deplore ! 
Since  they  despair  by  wanting  their  desire. 
I  am  not  Pan,  though  I  a  shepherd  be ; 
Yet  is  my  Love  as  fair  as  SYRINX  was. 
My  Song  cannot  with  PHGEBUS's  tunes  agree  ; 
Yet  Chloris  doth  his  Daphne  far  surpass. 
How  much  more  fair,  by  so  much  more  unkind 
Than  Syrinx  coy,  or  Daphne,  I  her  find. 


SONNET    VIII. 

O  sooner  had  fair  PllCEBUS  trimmed  his  car, 
Being  newly  arisen  from  Aurora's  bed  ; 
But  I,  in  whom  Despair  and  Hope  did  war, 
My  unpenned  flock  unto  the  mountains  led. 
Tripping  upon  the  snow-soft  downs  I  spied 
Three  Nymphs,  more  fairer  than  those  Beauties  Three 
Which  did  appear  to  Paris  on  Mount  Ide. 
Coming  more  near,  my  goddess  I  there  see. 

For  She,  the  field  Nymphs  oftentimes  doth  haunt, 
To  hunt  with  them  the  fierce  and  savage  boar  : 
And  having  sported,  Virelays  they  chant ; 
Whilst  I,  unhappy,  helpless  cares  deplore. 
There  did  I  call  to  her,  ah,  too  unkind ! 
But  tiger-like,  of  me  she  had  no  mind. 


W.  Smith. 
1596, 


6.  J 


C  H  L  O  R  I  S. 


329 


SONNET    IX. 

NTO  the  fountain,  where  fair  DIANA  chaste 
The  proud  ACTEON  turned  to  a  hart, 
I  drave  my  flock  that  water  sweet  to  taste  ; 
'Cause  from  the  welkin,  PHCEBUS  'gan  depart. 
There  did  I  see  the  Nymph  whom  I  admire, 
Remembering  her  locks  ;  of  which  the  yellow  hue 
Made  blush  the  beauties  of  her  curled  wire, 
Which  JOVE  himself  with  wonder  well  might  view. 

Then  red  with  ire,  her  tresses  she  berent ; 

And  weeping  hid  the  beauty  of  her  face  : 

Whilst  I,  amazed  at  her  discontent, 

With  tears  and  sighs  do  humbly  sue  for  grace. 

But  she,  regarding  neither  tears  nor  moan, 

Flies  from  the  fountain,  leaving  me  alone. 


SONNET    X. 

Mia  Gorgon  ?  that  she  doth  me  fly ! 
Or  was  I  hatched  in  the  river  Nile  ? 
Or  doth  my  CHLORIS  stand  in  doubt  that  I, 
With  Siren  songs,  do  seek  her  to  beguile  ? 
If  any  one  of  these  she  can  object 
'Gainst  me,  which  chaste  affected  love  protest ; 
Then  might  my  fortunes  by  her  frowns  be  checked 
And  blameless  She  from  scandal  free  might  rest 

But  seeing  I  am  no  hideous  monster  born  ; 
But  have  that  shape  which  other  men  do  bear : 
Which  form  great  JUPITER  did  never  scorn 
Amongst  his  subjects  here  on  earth  to  wear. 
Why  should  she  then  that  soul  with  sorrow  fill 
Which  vowed  hath  to  love  and  serve  her  still  ? 


33Q 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


"W.  Smith 
1596 


SONNET    XL 

Ell  me,  my  dear,  what  moves  thy  ruthless  mind 

To  be  so  cruel,  seeing  thou  art  so  fair  ? 

Did  Nature  frame  thy  beauty  so  unkind  ; 

Or  dost  thou  scorn  to  pity  my  despair  ? 

O  no,  it  was  not  Nature's  ornament, 
But  winged  Love's  impartial  cruel  wound, 
Which  in  my  heart  is  ever  permanent, 
Until  my  CHLORIS  makes  me  whole  and  sound. 

O  glorious  Love-God,  think  on  my  heart's  grief! 
Let  not  thy  vassal  pine  through  deep  disdain  ! 
By  wounding  CHLORIS,  I  shall  find  relief; 
If  thou  impart  to  her  some  of  my  pain. 

She  doth  thy  temples  and  thy  shrines  abject ! 

They  with  Aminta's  flowers  by  me  are  decked. 


SONNET    XII. 


EASE  eyes  to  weep,  sith  none  bemoans  your 
weeping ! 
Leave  off,  good  Muse,  to  sound  the  cruel  name 
Of  my  love's  Queen  !  which  hath  my  heart  in 
keeping ; 
Yet  of  my  love  doth  make  a  jesting  game. 

Long  hath  my  sufferance  laboured  to  enforce 
One  pearl  of  pity  from  her  pretty  eyes  ; 
Whilst  I,  with  restless  oceans  of  remorse, 
Bedew  the  banks  where  my  fair  CHLORIS  lies, 

Where  my  fair  CHLORIS  bathes  her  tender  skin ; 
And  doth  triumph  to  see  such  rivers  fall 
From  those  moist  springs,  which  never  dry  have  been 
Since  she  their  honour  hath  detained  in  thrall. 
And  still  she  scorns  one  favouring  smile  to  show 
Unto  those  waves  proceeding  from  my  woe. 


W.  Smith. 
1596. 


]  C  H  L  O  R  I  S.  3 

A  Dream. 

SONNET    XIII. 

Hat  time  fair  TITAN  in  the  zenith  sat 
And  equally  the  fixed  poles  did  heat ; 
When  to  my  flock  my  daily  woes  I  chat, 
And  underneath  a  broad  beech  took  my  seat : 

The  dreaming  god,  which  Morpheus  Poets  call, 

Augmenting  fuel  to  my  Etna's  fire, 

With  sleep  possessing  my  weak  senses  all, 

In  apparitions  makes  my  hopes  aspire. 

Methought  I  saw  the  Nymph  I  would  embrace, 

With  arms  abroad,  coming  to  me  for  help : 

A  lust-led  Satyr  having  her  in  chase  ; 

Which  after  her,  about  the  fields,  did  yelp. 

I  seeing  my  Love  in  perplexed  plight, 

A  sturdy  bat  from  off  an  oak  I  reft  ; 

And  with  the  ravisher  continued  fight 

Till  breathless  I  upon  the  earth  him  left. 

Then  when  my  coy  Nymph  saw  her  breathless  foe, 

With  kisses  kind  she  gratifies  my  pain  ; 

Protesting  never  rigour  more  to  show. 

Happy  was  I  this  good  hap  to  obtain. 
But  drowsy  slumbers,  flying  to  their  cell, 

My  sudden  joy  converted  was  to  bale. 

My  wonted  sorrows  still  with  me  do  dwell. 

I  looked  round  about  on  hill  and  dale  : 

But  I  could  neither  my  fair  CHLORIS  view  ; 

Not  yet  the  Satyr,  which  erst  while  I  slew. 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


"W.  Smitn. 
1596. 


SONNET    XIV. 


OURNFUL  AMYNTAS,  thou  didst  pine  with  care, 
Because  the  Fates,  by  their  untimely  doom, 
Of  life  bereft  thy  loving  PHILLIS  fair  ; 
When  thy  love's  Spring  did  first  begin  to  bloom. 
My  care  doth  countervail  that  care  of  thine  ; 
And  yet  my  CHLORIS  draws  her  angry  breath : 
My  hopes,  still  hoping,  hopeless  now  repine ; 
For  living,  She  doth  add  to  me  but  death. 

Thy  PHILLIS  dying,  loved  thee  full  dear. 
My  CHLORIS  living,  hates  poor  Corin's  love. 
Thus  doth  my  woe  as  great  as  thine  appear ; 
Though  sundry  accents  both  our  sorrows  move. 
Thy  swan-like  Song  did  shew  thy  dying  anguish  : 
These  weeping  Truce-men  shew  I  living  languish. 


Stt   j| 

74 

SONNET    XV. 

HESE  weeping  Truce-men  shew  I  living  languish  ; 
My  woeful  wailings  tell  my  discontent : 
Yet  CHLORIS  nought  esteemeth  of  mine  anguish  ; 
My  thrilling  throbs,  her  heart  cannot  relent. 
My  kids  to  hear  the  rhymes  and  roundelays, 
Which  I,  on  wasteful  hills,  was  wont  to  sing, 
Did  more  delight  than  lark  in  summer  days : 
Whole  echo  made  the  neighbour  groves  to  ring. 

But  now  my  flock,  all  drooping,  bleats  and  cries  ; 
Because  my  Pipe,  the  author  of  their  sport, 
All  rent,  and  torn,  and  uninspected,  lies : 
Their  lamentations  do  my  cares  consort. 

They  cease  to  feed,  and  listen  to  the  plaint ; 
W  hich  I  pour  forth  unto  a  cruel  Saint. 


W.  Smith.-J 
1 596- J 


C  H  L  O  R  1  S. 


333 


SONNET   XVI. 

HlCH  I  pour  forth  unto  a  cruel  Saint, 
Who  merciless  my  prayers  doth  attend  : 
Who  tiger-like  doth  pity  my  complaint ; 
And  never  unto  my  woes  will  lend. 
But  still  false  hope  despairing  life  deludes ; 
And  tells  my  fancy  I  shall  grace  obtain. 
But  Chloris  fair,  my  orisons  concludes 
With  fearful  frowns,  presagers  of  my  pain. 

Thus  do  I  spend  the  weary  wandering  day, 
Oppressed  with  a  chaos  of  heart's  grief : 
Thus  I  consume  the  obscure  night  away, 
Neglecting  sleep  which  brings  all  cares  relief. 
Thus  I  pass  my  lingering  life  in  woe  : 
But  when  my  bliss  will  come,  I  do  not  know  ! 


SONNET    XVII. 

He  perils  which  Leander  took  in  hand, 
Fair  Hero's  love  and  favour  to  obtain  ; 
When,  void  of  fear,  securely  leaving  land, 
Through  Hellespont  he  swam  to  Cestos  main  : 
His  dangers  should  not  counterpoise  my  toil. 
If  my  dear  Love  would  once  but  pity  show, 
To  quench  these  flames  which  in  my  breast  do  broil, 
Or  dry  these  springs  which  from  mine  eyes  do  flow  ; 

Not  only  Hellespont,  but  ocean  seas, 
For  her  sweet  sake,  to  ford  I  would  attempt ! 
So  that  my  travails  would  her  ire  appease ; 
My  soul,  from  thrall  and  languish  to  exempt 
O  what  is't  not,  poor  I,  would  undertake  ; 
If  labour  could  my  peace  with  CHLORIS  make? 


334 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


"W.  smith. 
1596. 


SONNET    XVIII. 

Y  Love,  I  cannot  thy  rare  beauties  place 
Under  those  forms  which  many  Writers  use. 
Some  like  to  stones,  compare  their  Mistress'  face. 
Some  in  the  name  of  flowers  do  love  abuse. 
Some  make  their  love  a  goldsmith's  shop  to  be, 
Where  orient  pearls  and  precious  stones  abound. 
In  my  conceit  these  far  do  disagree 
The  prefect  praise  of  beauty  forth  to  sound. 

O  CHLORIS,  thou  dost  imitate  thyself! 
Selfs  imitating  passeth  precious  stones 
Or  all  the  Eastern  Indian  golden  pelf, 
Thy  red  and  white,  with  purest  fair  atones, 

Matchless  for  beauty  Nature  hath  thee  framed  : 
Only  "  unkind  "  and  "  cruel  "  thou  art  named. 


SONNET    XIX. 

He  Hound,  by  eating  grass,  doth  find  relief : 
For,  being  sick,  it  is  his  choicest  meat. 
The  wounded  Hart  doth  ease  his  pain  and  grief ; 
If  he,  the  herb  Dictamion  may  eat. 
The  loathsome  Snake  renews  his  sight  again, 
When  he  casts  off  his  withered  coat  and  hue. 
The  sky-bred  Eagle  fresh  age  doth  obtain 
When  he,  his  beak  decayed  doth  renew. 

I  worse  than  these,  whose  sore  no  salve  can  cure ; 
Whose  grief,  no  herb,  nor  plant,  nor  tree  can  ease  : 
Remediless,  I  still  must  pain  endure 
Till  I,  my  CHLORIS's  furious  mood  can  please. 
She,  like  the  scorpion,  gave  to  me  a  wound  ; 
And,  like  the  scorpion,  she  must  make  me  sound. 


W.  Smith.-] 


C  H  L  ORIS. 

SONNET    XX. 


335 


E  wasteful  woods,  bear  witness  of  my  woe  ! 
Wherein  my  plaints  did  oftentimes  abound. 
Ye,  careless  birds,  my  sorrows  well  do  know  ! 
They,  in  your  songs,  were  wont  to  make  a  sound. 
Thou,  pleasant  spring,  canst  record  likewise  bear. 
Of  my  designs  and  sad  disparagement ! 
When  thy  transparent  billows  mingled  were 
With  those  downfalls  which  from  mine  eyes  were  sent. 

The  echo  of  my  still-lamenting  cries, 
From  hollow  vaults,  in  treble  voice  resoundeth ; 
And  then  into  the  empty  air  it  flies, 
And  back  again  from  whence  it  came  reboundeth. 
That  Nymph,  unto  my  clamours  doth  reply, 
"  Being  likewise  scorned  in  love,  as  well  as  I." 


SONNET    XXI. 

ElNG  likewise  scorned  in  love  as  well  as  1  " 
By  that  self-loving  Boy  ;  which  did  disdain 
To  hear  her,  after  him  for  love  to  cry : 
For  which  in  dens  obscure  she  doth  remain. 
Yet  doth  she  answer  to  each  speech  and  word 
And  renders  back  the  last  of  what  we  speak. 
But  'specially,  if  she  might  have  her  choice, 
She  of  "  Unkindness  "  would  her  talk  forth  break. 
She  loves  to  hear  of  Love's  most  sacred  name  ; 
Although,  poor  Nymph,  in  love  she  was  despised  : 
And  ever  since  she  hides  her  head  for  shame, 
That  her  true  meaning  was  so  lightly  prized. 
She,  pitying  me,  part  of  my  woes  doth  hear  ; 
As  you,  good  Shepherds,  list'ning  now  shall  hear. 


lift 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


r\V.  Smith 
L  i596- 


SONNET    XXII. 

[For  similar  '  Echo '  poems,  see  vol.  i.  pp.  220-1,  273-5,  301,  and  vol.  ii.  p.  148  su/ra)- 


0  FAIREST  Fair,  to  thee  I  make  my  plaint, 
To   thee  from  whom    my   cause   of  grief 

doth   spring : 
Attentive  be  unto  the  groans,  sweet  Saint ! 
Which  unto  thee  in  doleful  tunes  I  sing. 
My  mournful  Muse  doth  always  speak 

of  thee. 
My  love  is  pure,  O  do  not  it  disdain ! 
With  bitter  sorrow  still  oppress  not  me  ; 
But  mildly  look  upon  me  which  complain. 
Kill  not  my  true-affecting  thoughts;  but 

give 
Such   precious   balm  of  comfort  to  my 

heart, 
That  casting  off  despair,  in  hope  to  live, 

1  may  find  help  at  length  to  ease  my 

smart. 
So  shall  you  add  such  courage  to  my  love, 
That   fortune  false,  my  faith  shall  not 

remove. 


my  plaint, 

doth  spring, 
sweet  Saint ! 
I  sing. 

of  thee, 
disdain  ! 
not  me ; 
which  complain. 

but  give 

my  heart, 
hope  to  live, 

to  ease  my  smart 
my  love, 

shall  not  remove. 


SONNET    XXIII. 


He  Phcenix  fair  which  rich  Arabia  breeds, 
When  wasting  time  expires  her  tragedy  ; 
No  more  on  Phcebus'  radiant  rayes  she  feeds  : 
But  heapeth  up  great  store  of  spicery ; 

And  on  a  lofty  tow'ring  cedar  tree, 
With  heavenly  substance,  she  herself  consumes. 
From  whence  she  young  again  appears  to  be, 
Out  of  the  cinders  of  her  peerless  plumes. 

So  I,  which  long  have  fried  in  love's  flame, 
The  fire,  not  made  of  spice,  but  sighs  and  tears, 
Revive  again,  in  hope  Disdain  to  shame, 
And  put  to  flight  the  author  of  my  fears. 

Her  eyes  revive  decaying  life  in  me  ; 

Though  they  augmentors  of  my  thraldom  be. 


W.  Smith.-] 
1596.J 


C  H  L  O  R  1  S. 


1  1  -I 

00/ 


tm       1 


SONNET    XXIV. 

HOUGH  they  augmentors  of  my  thraldom  be  : 
For  her  I  live,  and  her  I  love  and  none  else. 
O  then,  fair  eyes,  look  mildly  upon  me  ! 
Who  poor,  despised,  forlorn,  must  live  alone  else  : 
And,  like  AMYNTAS,  haunt  the  desert  cells 
(And  moneyless  there  breathe  out  thy  cruelty) 
Where  none  but  Care  and  Melancholy  dwell. 
I,  for  revenge,  to  Nemesis  will  cry ! 

If  that  will  not  prevail  ;  my  wandering  ghost, 
Which  breathless  here  this  love-scorched  trunk  shall  leave, 
Shall  unto  thee,  with  tragic  tidings  post ! 
How  thy  disdain  did  life  from  soul  bereave. 
Then,  all  too  late,  my  death  thou  wilt  repent ! 
When  murder's  guilt,  thy  conscience  shall  torment. 


SONNET    XXV. 

Ho  doth  not  know  that  Love  is  triumphant, 
Sitting  upon  the  throne  of  majesty  ? 
The  gods  themselves,  his  cruel  darts  do  daunt : 
And  he,  blind  boy,  smiles  at  their  misery ! 
LOVE  made  great  JOVE  ofttimes  transform  his  shape. 
Love  made  the  fierce  Alcides  stoop  at  last. 
ACHILLES,  stout  and  bold,  could  not  escape 
The  direful  doom  which  LOVE  upon  him  cast. 

LOVE  made  Leander  pass  the  dreadful  flood, 
Which  Cestos  from  Abydos  doth  divide. 
LOVE  made  a  chaos  where  proud  I  lion  stood. 
Through  LOVE  the  Carthaginian  DiDO  died. 
Thus  may  we  see  how  Love  doth  rule  and  rei 
Bringing  those  under,  which  his  power  disdain. 
11.  v 


33S 


C  H  L  0  R  1  S. 

SONNET    XXVI. 


("W.  Smith 


HOUGH  you  be  fair  and  beautiful  withal ; 
And  I  am  black,  for  which  you  me  despise : 
Know  that  your  beauty  subject  is  to  fall ! 
Though  you  esteem  it  at  so  high  a  price. 
And  time  may  come  when  that  whereof  you  boast, 
Which  is  your  youth's  chief  wealth  and  ornament, 
Shall  withered  be  by  winter's  raging  frost ; 
When  beauty's  pride  and  flowering  years  are  spent. 

Then  wilt  thou  mourn  !  when  none  shall  thee  respect. 
Then  wilt  thou  think  how  thou  hast  scorned  my  tears  ! 
Then,  pitiless,  each  one  will  thee  neglect ; 
When  hoary  grey  shall  dye  thy  yellow  hairs. 
Then  wilt  thou  think  upon  poor  Corin's  case  ! 
Who  loved  thee  dear,  yet  lived  in  thy  disgrace. 


SONNET    XXVII. 

Love,  leave  off  with  sorrows  to  torment  me  ! 
Let  my  heart's  grief  and  pining  pain  content  thee 
The  breach  is  made  ;  I  give  thee  leave  to  enter  ! 
Thee  to  resist,  great  god,  I  dare  not  venture  ! 
Restless  desire  doth  aggravate  my  anguish  ; 
Careful  conceits  do  fill  my  soul  with  languish  : 
Be  not  too  cruel,  in  thy  conquest  gained  ! 
Thy  deadly  shafts  have  victory  obtained  ! 

Batter  no  more  my  Fort  with  fierce  affection  ; 
But  shield  me,  captive,  under  thy  protection  ! 
[  Two  lines  wanting^ 
I  yield  to  thee,  O  LOVE,  thou  art  the  stronger ! 
Raise  then  thy  siege,  and  trouble  me  no  longer  ! 


W.  Smith."] 
1596J 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


339 


SONNET    XXVIII. 

Hat  cruel  star,  or  fate,  had  dominion 
When  I  was  born  ?  that  thus  my  love  is  crossed. 
Or  from  what  planet  had  I  derivation  ? 
That  thus  my  life  in  seas  of  woe  is  crossed. 

Doth  any  live  that  ever  hath  such  hap, 
That  all  their  actions  are  of  none  effect  ? 
Whom  Fortune  never  dandled  in  her  lap  ; 
But,  as  an  abject,  still  doth  me  reject. 

Ah,  fickle  Dame !  and  yet  thou  constant  art 
My  daily  grief  and  anguish  to  increase ! 
And  to  augment  the  troubles  of  my  heart ; 
Thou,  of  these  bonds  will  never  me  release  ! 

So  that  thy  darlings,  me  to  be  may  know, 

The  true  Idea  of  all  Worldly  Woe. 


SONNET    XXIX. 

Ome  in  their  hearts,  their  Mistress's  colours  bear ; 
Some   hath  her  gloves  ;   some   other  hath  her 
garters  ; 
Some  in  a  bracelet  wear  her  golden  hair  ; 
And  some  with  kisses  seal  their  loving  charters : 

But  I,  which  never  favoui  reaped  yet, 
Nor  had  one  pleasant  look  from  her  fair  brow  ; 
Content  myself  in  silent  shade  to  sit, 
In  hope  at  length  my  cares  to  overplow. 

Meanwhile  mine  eyes  shall  feed  on  her  fair  face  ! 
My  sighs  shall  tell  to  her  my  sad  designs  ! 
My  painful  pen  shall  ever  sue  for  grace  ! 
To  help  my  heart,  which  languishing  now  pines. 
And  I  will  triumph  still  amidst  my  woe, 
Till  mercy  shall  my  sorrows  overflow. 


34o 


C  II  L  0  R  I  S. 


"W.  Smith. 
1596. 


SONNET    XXX. 


He  raging  sea,  within  his  limits  lies  ; 
And  with  an  ebb,  his  flowing  doth  discharge : 
The  rivers,  when  beyond  their  bounds  they  rise 
Themselves  do  empty  in  the  ocean  large  : 
But  my  love's  sea,  which  never  limit  keepeth ; 
Which  never  ebbs,  but  always  ever  floweth, 
In  liquid  salt  unto  my  CHLORIS  weepeth  ; 
Yet  frustrate  are  the  tears  which  he  bestoweth. 

This  sea,  which  first  was  but  a  little  spring, 
Is  now  so  great,  and  far  beyond  all  reason, 
That  it  a  deluge  to  my  thoughts  doth  bring  ; 
Which  overwhelmed  hath  my  joying  season. 
So  hard  and  dry  is  my  Saint's  cruel  mind  ; 
These  waves  no  way  in  her  to  sink  can  find. 


SONNET    XXXI. 

Hese  waves  no  way  in  her  to  sink  can  find ; 
To  penetrate  the  pith  of  contemplation. 
These  tears  cannot  dissolve  her  hardened  mind, 
Nor  move  her  heart  on  me  to  take  compassion. 
O  then,  poor  CORIN,  scorned  and  quite  despised, 
Loathe  now  to  live  !  since  life  procures  my  woe. 
Enough  thou  hast  thy  heart  anatomised, 
For  her  sweet  sake  which  will  no  pretty  show. 

But  as  cold  winter's  storms  and  nipping  frosts 
Can  never  change  sweet  Amaranthus'  hue  ; 
So,  though  my  love  and  life  by  her  are  crossed, 
My  heart  shall  still  be  constant  firm  and  true ! 
Although  Erinnyes  hinder  Hymen's  rites, 
My  fixed  faith  against  oblivion  fights. 


W.  Smith."] 
I 596. J 


C  H  L  O  R  I  S. 


341 


SONNET    XXXII. 

Y  fixed  faith  against  oblivion  fights  ; 
And  I  cannot  forget  her,  pretty  Elf! 
Although  she  cruel  be  unto  my  plights  ; 
Yet  let  me  rather  clean  forget  myself, 
Than  her  sweet  name  out  of  my  mind  should  go : 
Which  is  th'  elixir  of  my  pining  soul ; 
From  whence  the  essence  of  my  life  doth  flow. 
Whose  beauty  rare,  my  senses  all  control ; 

Themselves  most  happy  evermore  accounting 
That  such  a  Nymph  is  Queen  of  their  affection  : 
With  ravished  rage,  they  to  the  skies  are  mounting  ; 
Esteeming  not  their  thraldom  nor  subjection. 
But  still  do  joy  amidst  their  misery  ; 
With  patience  bearing  Love's  captivity. 


SONNET    XXXIII. 

Ith  patience  bearing  Love's  captivity, 
Themselves  unguilty  of  his  wrath  alleging  ; 
These  homely  Lines,  abjects  of  Poesy, 
For  liberty  and  for  their  ransom  pledging : 
And  being  free,  they  solemnly  do  vow 
Under  his  banner  ever  arms  to  bear 
Against  those  rebels,  which  do  disallow 
That  Love,  of  Bliss  should  be  the  sovereign  Heir. 

And  CHLORIS,  if  these  weeping  Truce-men  may 
One  spark  of  pity  from  thine  eyes  obtain, 
In  recompense  of  their  sad  heavy  Lay  ; 
Poor  CORIN  shall  thy  faithful  friend  remain. 
And  what  I  say,  I  ever  will  approve, 
"  No  joy  may  be  compared  to  thy  love !" 


142 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


"W.  Smith. 
1596. 


SONNET    XXXIV. 

He  bird  of  Thrace,  which  doth  bewail  her  rape 
And  murdered  Itis  eaten  by  his  Sire, 
When  she  her  woes  in  doleful  tunes  doth  shape ; 
She  sets  her  breast  against  a  thorny  briar. 
Because  care-charmer  Sleep  should  not  disturb 
The  tragic  tale  which  to  the  night  she  tells ; 
She  doth  her  rest  and  quietness  thus  curb, 
Amongst  the  groves  where  secret  silence  dwells. 
Even  so  I  wake ;  and  waking,  wail  all  night. 
CHLORIS'  unkindness,  slumbers  doth  expel. 
I  need  not  thorns,  sweet  sleep  to  put  to  flight. 
Her  cruelty,  my  golden  rest  doth  quell : 
That  day  and  night  to  me  are  only  one ; 
Consumed  in  woe,  in  tears,  in  sighs,  and  moan. 


SONNET   XXXV. 

^[Ike  to  the  shipman,  in  his  brittle  boat, 
Tossed  aloft  by  the  unconstant  wind  ; 
By  dangerous  rocks  and  whirling  gulfs  doth  float, 
Hoping,  at  length,  the  wished  Port  to  find : 
So  doth  my  love  in  stormy  billows  sail, 
And  passing  the  gaping  Scylla's  waves, 
In  hope  at  length  with  CHLORIS  to  prevail ; 
And  win  that  prize  which  most  my  fancy  craves. 

Which  unto  me  of  value  will  be  more 
Than  was  that  rich  and  wealthy  Golden  Fleece ; 
Which  JASON  stout,  from  Colchos  island  bore, 
With  wind  in  sails,  unto  the  shore  of  Greece, 

More  rich,  more  rare,  more  worth  her  love  I  prize ; 
Than  all  the  wealth  which  under  heaven  lies. 


W.  Smith.  "I 
159<5.J 


C  H  L  ORIS. 

SONNET     XXXVI. 


34. 


WHAT  a  wound,  and  what  a  deadly  stroke, 
Doth  CUPID  give  to  us,  perplexed  lovers ! 
Which  cleaves,  more  fast  than  ivy  doth  to  oak, 
Unto  our  hearts  where  he  his  might  discovers. 
Though  warlike  Mars  were  armed  at  all  points 
With  that  tried  coat  which  fiery  VULCAN  made ; 
Love's  shafts  did  penetrate  his  steeled  joints, 
And  in  his  breast  in  streaming  gore  did  wade. 

So  pitiless  is  this  fell  conqueror, 
That  in  his  Mother's  paps  his  arrows  stuck ! 
Such  is  his  rage !  that  he  doth  not  defer 
To  wound  those  orbs,  from  whence  he  life  did  suck. 
Then  sith  no  mercy  he  shews  to  his  mother ; 
We  meekly  must  his  force  and  rigour  smother. 


SONNET    XXXVII. 

ACH  beast  in  field  doth  wish  the  morning  light. 
The  birds  to  Hesper  pleasant  Lays  do  sing. 
The  wanton  kids,  well  fed,  rejoice  in  night ; 
Being  likewise  glad  when  day  begins  to  spring 
But  night,  nor  day,  are  welcome  unto  me : 
Both  can  bear  witness  of  my  lamentation. 
All  day,  sad  sighing  CORIN  you  shall  see  ; 
All  night  he  spends  in  tears  and  exclamation. 

Thus  still  I  live,  although  I  take  no  rest ; 
But  living  look  as  one  that  is  a  dying : 
Thus  my  sad  soul,  with  care  and  grief  opprest, 
Seems  as  a  ghost  to  Styx  and  Lethe  flying. 
Thus  hath  fond  love  bereft  my  youthful  years 
Of  all  good  hap,  before  old  age  appears. 


i44 


C  H  L  ORIS. 


TW.  Smith. 

L       1596 


SONNET    XXXVIII. 

Hat  day  wherein  mine  eyes  cannot  her  see, 
Which  is  the  essence  of  their  crystal  sight ; 
Both  blind,  obscure,  and  dim  that  day  they  be, 
And  are  debarred  of  fair  heaven's  light. 
That  day  wherein  mine  ears  do  want  to  hear  her ; 
Hearing,  that  day,  is  from  me  quite  bereft. 
That  day  wherein  to  touch  I  come  not  near  her ; 
That  day  no  sense  of  touching  I  have  left. 

That  day  wherein  I  lack  the  fragrant  smell, 
Which  from  her  pleasant  amber  breath  proceedeth  ; 
Smelling,  that  day,  disdains  with  me  to  dwell. 
Only  weak  hope,  my  pining  carcase  feedeth. 

But  burst,  poor  heart !  Thou  hast  no  better  hope, 
Since  all  thy  senses  have  no  further  scope. 


SONNET    XXXIX. 


He  stately  lion  and  the  furious  bear, 
The  skill  of  man  doth  alter  from  their  kind  ; 
For  where  before  they  wild  and  savage  were, 
By  Art,  both  tame  and  meek  you  shall  them  find. 
The  elephant,  although  a  mighty  beast, 
A  man  may  rule  according  to  his  skill. 
The  lusty  horse  obeyeth  our  behest, 
For  with  the  curb,  you  may  him  guide  at  will. 

Although  the  flint  most  hard  contains  the  fne, 
By  force  we  do  his  virtue  soon  obtain  : 
For  with  a  steel  you  shall  have  your  desire. 
Thus  man  may  all  things  by  industry  gain. 
Only  a  woman,  if  she  list  not  love  ; 
No  art,  nor  force,  can  unto  pity  move 


\V.  Smith.  1  /~    ,,   ,    „    „    .   _ 

1596.J  L  h  l  o  r  i  s.  342 

SONNET    XL. 

[O  art  nor  force  can  unto  pity  move 
Her  stony  heart,  that  makes  my  heart  to  pant  : 
No  pleading  passions  of  my  extreme  love 
Can  mollify  her  mind  of  adamant. 
Ah,  cruel  sex,  and  foe  to  all  mankind  ! 
Either  you  love,  or  else  you  hate,  too  much  ! 
A  glist'ring  show  of  gold  in  you  we  find  ; 
And  yet  you  prove  but  copper  in  the  touch. 

But  why  ?  O  why,  do  I  so  far  digress  ? 
Nature  you  made  of  pure  and  fairest  mould, 
The  pomp  and  glory  of  Man  to  depress  ; 
And  as  your  slaves  in  thraldom  them  to  hold  : 
Which  by  experience  now  too  well  I  prove, 
There  is  no  pain  unto  the  pains  of  love. 


SONNET    XL  I. 

p|  Air  Shepherdess,  when  as  these  rustic  lines 

Come  to  thy  sight,  weigh  but  with  what  affection 
Thy  servile  doth  depaint  his  sad  designs  ; 
Which  to  redress,  of  thee  he  makes  election. 
If  so  you  scorn,  you  kill  ;  if  you  seem  coy, 
You  wound  poor  CORIN  to  the  very  heart  ; 
If  that  you  smile,  you  shall  increase  his  joy  ; 
If  these  you  like,  you  banish  do  all  smart  : 
And  this  I  do  protest,  most  fairest  Fair, 
My  Muse  shall  never  cease  that  hill  to  climb, 
To  which  the  learned  Muses  do  repair  ! 
And  all  to  deify  thy  name  in  rhyme. 

And  never  none  shall  write  with  truer  mind 
As  by  all  proof  and  trial  you  shall  find. 


346 


C  H  L  ORIS, 


~W.  Smith. 
1596 


SONNET    XLII. 

Ie,  die  my  Hopes  !  for  you  do  but  augment 
The  burning  accents  of  my  deep  despair  ; 
Disdain  and  scorn,  your  downfall  do  consent 
Tell  to  the  World,  She  is  unkind,  yet  fair. 
O  Eyes,  close  up  those  ever-running  fountains  ! 
For  pitiless  are  all  the  tears  you  shed  ; 
Wherewith  you  watered  have  both  dales  and  mountains. 
I  see,  I  see  remorse  from  her  is  fled. 

Pack  hence,  ye  Sighs,  into  the  empty  air  ! 
Into  the  air  that  none  your  sound  may  hear. 
Sith  cruel  CHLORIS  hath  of  you  no  care 
(Although  she  once  esteemed  you  full  dear)  ; 
Let  sable  night  all  your  disgraces  cover  ! 
Yet  truer  sighs  were  never  sighed  by  lover. 


SONNET    XLII  I. 

Hou  glorious  Sun  (from  whence  my  lesser  light 
The  substance  of  his  crystal  shine  doth  borrow) 
Let  these  my  moans  find  favour  in  thy  sight, 
And  with  remorse  extinguish  now  my  sorrow  ! 
Renew  those  lamps  which  thy  disdain  hath  quenched, 
As  PHCEBUS  doth  his  sister  Phcebe's  shine  : 
Consider  how  thy  CORIN,  being  drenched 
In  seas  of  woe,  to  thee  his  plaints  incline  ! 

And  at  thy  feet,  with  tears,  doth  sue  for  grace  ; 
Which  art  the  goddess  of  his  chaste  desire. 
Let  not  thy  frowns,  these  labours  poor  deface  ! 
Although  aloft  they  at  the  first  aspire. 

And  time  shall  come,  as  yet  unknown  to  men, 
When  I  more  large  thy  praises  forth  shall  pen. 


W.  Smith."] 
1596J 


C  H  L  O  R  1  S. 

SONNET     XLIV. 


347 


hi 


HEN  I  more  large  thy  praises  forth  shall  show, 
That  all  the  World  thy  beauty  shall  admire  ; 
Desiring  that  most  sacred  Nymph  to  know, 
Which  hath  the  Shepherd's  fancy  set  on  fire. 
Till  then,  my  dear,  let  these  thine  eyes  content 
Till  then,  fair  Love,  think  if  I  merit  favour ! 
Till  then,  O  let  thy  merciful  assent 
Relish  my  hopes  with  some  comforting  savour ! 

So  shall  you  add  such  courage  to  my  Muse, 
That  she  shall  climb  the  steep  Parnassus'  Hill : 
That  learned  Poets  shall  my  deeds  peruse, 
When  I  from  thence  obtained  have  more  skill. 
And  what  I  sing  shall  always  be  of  thee, 
As  long  as  life,  or  breath,  remains  in  me. 


SONNET     XLV. 

Hen  she  was  born,  whom  I  entirely  love, 
Th'  immortal  gods,  her  birth-rites  forth  to  grace, 
Descending  from  their  glorious  seat  above  ; 
They  did  on  her,  these  several  virtues  place  : 

First  SATURN  gave  to  her  Sobriety  ; 
JOVE  then  endued  her  with  Comeliness  ; 
And  SOL  with  Wisdom  did  her  beautify  ; 
MERCU  RY  with  Wit  and  Knowledge  did  her  bless  ; 

VENUS  with  Beauty  did  all  parts  bedeck  ; 
LUNA  therewith  did  Modesty  combine  ; 
Diana  chaste,  all  loose  desires  did  check  ; 
And  like  a  lamp  in  clearness  she  doth  shine. 

But  MARS,  according  to  his  stubborn  kind, 

No  virtue  gave  ;  but  a  disdainful  mind. 


;4^  C  H  L  O  R  J  s.  [w'bxs£ 

SONNET     XLVI. 

HEN  CHLORIS  first,  with  her  heart-robbing  eye, 
Enchanted  had  my  silly  senses  all  ; 
1  little  did  respect  Love's  cruelty  : 
I  never  thought  his  snares  should  me  enthrall. 
But  since  her  tresses  have  entangled  me, 
My  pining  flock  did  never  hear  me  sing 
Those  jolly  notes,  which  erst  did  make  them  glee  ; 
Nor  do  my  kids  about  me  leap  and  spring 

As  they  were  wont  :  but  when  they  hear  my  cry  ; 
They  likewise  cry,  and  fill  the  air  with  bleating. 
Then  do  my  sheep  upon  the  cold  earth  lie, 
And  feed  no  more.     My  griefs  they  are  repeating. 

0  CHLORIS,  if  thou  then  sawest  them  and  me, 

1  am  sure  thou  would'st  both  pity  them  and  me ! 


SONNET     XLVI  I. 

Ut  of  thy  heart  too  cruel  I  thee  tell, 
Which  hath  tormented  my  young  budding  age  ; 
And  doth,  (unless  your  mildness,  passions  quell) 
My  utter  ruin  near  at  hand  presage. 

Instead  of  blood,  which  wont  was  to  display 
His  ruddy  red  upon  my  hairless  face  ; 
By  over-grieving,  that  is  fled  away  : 
Pale  dying  colour  there  hath  taken  place. 

Those  curled  locks,  which  thou  wast  wont  to  twist, 
Unkempt,  unshorn,  and  out  of  order  been  ; 
Since  my  disgrace,  I  had  of  them  no  list, 
Since  when,  these  eyes  no  joyful  day  have  seen  : 
Nor  never  shall,  till  you  renew  again 
The  mutual  love  which  did  possess  us  twain. 


W.  Smith."] 


C  H  L  O  R  I  S. 


349 


SONNET     XL  VII  I. 

Ou  that  embrace  enchanting  Poesy, 
Be  gracious  to  perplexed  Corin's  lines  ! 
You  that  do  feel  Love's  proud  authority, 
Help  me  to  sing  my  sighs  and  sad  designs  ! 
CHLORIS,  requite  not  faithful  love  with  scorn ! 
But,  as  thou  oughtest,  have  commiseration. 
I  have  enough  anatomized  and  torn 
My  heart,  thereof  to  make  a  pure  oblation. 

Likewise  consider  how  thy  CORIN  prizeth 
Thy  parts  above  each  absolute  perfection  ! 
How  he,  of  every  precious  thing  deviseth, 
To  make  thee  Sovereign  !     Grant  me  then  affection  ! 
Else  thus  I  prize  thee,  CHLORIS  is  alone 
More  hard  than  gold,  or  pearl,  or  precious  stone. 


SONNET     XLIX. 

OLIN,  I  know  that,  in  thy  lofty  wit, 
Thou  wilt  but  laugh  at  these  my  youthful  lines  ; 
Content  I  am,  they  should  in  silence  sit, 
Obscured  from  light  to  sing  their  sad  designs. 

But  that  it  pleased  thy  grave  Shephcrdhood, 
The  Patron  of  my  maiden  verse  to  be  ; 
When  I  in  doubt  of  raging  envy  stood  : 
And  now  I  weigh  not  who  shall  Chloris  see  ! 

For  fruit  before  it  comes  to  full  perfection 
But  blossoms  is,  as  every  man  doth  know  : 
So  these,  being  blooms,  and  under  thy  protei  tion, 
In  time  I  hope  to  ripeness  more  will  grow. 

And  so  I  leave  thee  to  thy  worth)-  Mm  <•  , 

Desiring  thee,  all  faults  here  to  excuse 

FINIS. 


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LAURA. 

The  Toys  of  a  Traveller  : 


or 


The   Feasl  of  Fancy. 

Divided  into  Three  Parts. 
BY 

R[obert]  T[ofte], 

Gentleman. 

Pocafavilla  gran  Jiamma  seconda. 


LONDON, 

Printed  by  Valentine  Simmes. 


1597. 


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; 


xxxxr^xxxxxxxxr^xxxx'xxxx: 


353 


To  the  no  less  virtuous  than  fair,  the 

Honourable  Lady  Lucy,  sister  to 

the  thrice  re?iowned  and  noble 

Lord,  Henry\_P  ercy]  Ear  I 

of  Northumberland. 

OOD  Madam,  I  make  bold  to  present  unto  you  a 
few  Toys  of  mine  own  travail :  [the]  most  part 
conceived  in  Italy,  and  some  of  them  brought 
forth  in  England.  By  which  my  imperfections, 
you  may  see,  as  in  a  lively  mirror,  your  own 
perfections  ;  and  by  the  follies  of  my  rechlesse  [heedless] 
youth,  behold  plainly  the  virtues  of  your  flowering  age : 
hoping  your  Ladyship  will  keep  them  as  privately,  as  I 
send  them  unto  you  most  willingly. 

Neither  doubt  I  at  all  but  that  your  excellent  spirit  will 
judge  graciously  of  this  my  bare,  yet  bounden,  conceit ;  and 
to  accept  the  same,  as  a  mean[s],  at  idle  times,  to  drive 
away  that  self-pleasing,  yet  ill-easing,  humour  of  never-glad 
melancholy,  which  spiteful  Fortune,  seeking  (though  in  vain) 
most  injuriously  to  insult  over  you,  laboureth  by  all  means 
possible  to  inflict  upon  you  :  the  virtuous  behaviour  of  your- 
self being  such  as,  even  in  the  midst  of  all  your  crosses,  you 
cross  her  designs  with  an  invincible  heart,  and  with  your 
honourable  carriage  carry  her,  with  all  her  devices,  as  a  slave 
to  follow  you,  in  all  your  generous  and  thrice-noble  actions  ; 
maugre  the  intricate  labyrinth  of  so  many  and  infinite 
troubles  allotted,  most  unworthily,  unto  you,  by  the  irre- 
vocable doom  of  your  too  partial  and  flinty  Destiny.  All 
II.  z  <) 


354         The    Epistle    Dedicatory.       [R  *' 


Tofte. 

597- 


which  notwithstanding,  you  bear  and  over- bear,  with  a 
most  resolute  staiedness  ;  and  a  resolved  courage  of  a  right 
P  E  R  C  Y,  and  of  a  mind  A  per  se. 

But  additions  breed  suspicions ;  and  fair  words,  for  the 
most  part  are  counted  the  blazons  of  flattery :  therefore  I 
will  leave  to  the  temperate  judgment  of  the  wise,  and  to 
the  uncorrupt  censure  of  the  worthier  sort,  your  heroical 
and  undaunted  mind  ;  and  the  integrity  and  never-stained 
proceedings  of  your  spotless  self. 

Only  this,  with  submission,  will  I  say,  that  if  the  richness 
of  the  ground  is  known  by  the  corn  ;  the  daintiness  of  the 
water,  by  the  sweetness  of  the  fish  ;  and  the  goodness  of  the 
tree,  by  the  rareness  of  the  fruit :  then  may  every  man  give 
a  guess  of  the  internal  habit  and  excellent  qualities  of  your 
inward  mind,  by  the  outward  behaviour  and  apparent  sem- 
blance of  your  exceeding  chaste,  and  more  than  admirable, 
demeanour  in  every  respect. 

And  thus,  hoping  your  Honour  will  as  debonairly  accept 
of  these  Trifles,  as  I  dutifully  bequeath  them  unto  you  ; 
and  with  the  sun-shining  favour  of  your  gracious  aspect 
deign  to  read  these  few  lines :  craving  both  privilege,  and 
pardon,  for  all  such  faults  and  defects  as  shall  happen  to 
be  discovered  in  the  same, 

I  humbly  devote  myself  unto 

Your  Ladyship's  thrice-virtuous  and  immaculate 
disposition  and  command  whatsoever, 

Who  am  bound,  as  a  vasssal, 

To  do  homage  unto  the  same  for  ever 

R.  T. 


355 


To  the  Gentle,  and  Gentlemen,  Readers 
whatsoever. 

Entlemen.     As  the  Fencer  first  maketh  a 

flourish  with  his  weapon  before  he  cometh 

to  strokes,  in  playing  [for]  his  prize  :  so  I 

thought  good,  pro  forma  only,  to  use  these 

few  lines  unto  you,  before  you  come  to  the   pith  of 

the  matter. 

What  the  Gentleman  was,  that  wrote  these  verses, 
I  know  not ;  and  what  She  is,  for  whom  they  are 
devised,  I  cannot  guess  :  but  thus  much  I  can  say, 
That  as  they  came  into  the  hands  of  a  friend  of  mine 
[?  the  R.  B.  of  page  424]  by  mere  fortune;  so  hap- 
pened I  upon  them  by  as  great  a  chance. 

Only  in  this  I  must  confess  we  are  both  to  blame, 
that  whereas  he  having  promised  to  keep  private  the 
original ;  and  I,  the  copy,  secret :  we  have  both  con- 
sented to  send  it  abroad,  as  common ;  presuming 
chiefly  upon  your  accustomed  courtesies.  Assuring 
ourselves,  if  we  may  have  your  protections,  we  shall 
think  ourselves  as  safe  as  Ulysses  did,  when  he 
was  shadowed  under  the  shield  of  Pallas  against 
furious  Ajax  ;  so  we,  by  your  countenances,  shall 
be  sufficiently  furnished  to  encounter  against  any 
foul-mouthed  Jacks  whatsoever. 

To   censure  of  this  Work  is  for   better  wits  than 


I56  T  O      T  H  E      R  E  A  D  E  R.  [v-  ^ 


mes. 
597- 


mme  own:  and  it  is  for  Poets,  not  Printers  [This 
therefore  was  written  by  Valentine  Simmes,  the 
Printer  of  this  Book.  See  also  page  424]  to  give 
judgement  of  this  matter.  Yet,  if  I  may  be  bold  to 
report  what  I  have  heard  other  Gentlemen  affirm, 
Many  have  written  worse ;  Some,  better ;  Few,  so 
well.  The  Work,  being  so  full  of  Choice  and  Change 
as,  it  is  thought,  it  will  rather  delight  every  way  than 
dislike  any  way. 

Thus,  courteous  Gentlemen,  building  upon  my 
wonted  foundation  of  your  friendly  acceptance,  I 
rest  your  debtors ;  and  will  study,  in  what  I  can, 
daily  to  make  you  amends. 

Yours  always 

[Valentine  Simmes.] 


357 


Alia  bellissima  sua  Signora. 

e.  a 


[The  Lady's  name  was  E.  Caru,  :  see  Book  II.,  Poem  XXXIII., 
at  page  397.] 


H  ROUGH  thee,  not  of  thee,  Lady  fair  I  write ; 
Through  power  of  Beauty,  not  of  Virtues,  thine  : 
With  zealous  will,  though  slender  be  my  might, 
I,  weakling,  seek  an  eagle's  nest  to  climb. 

Then  guide  my  feet !  and  if  to  slip  I  chance, 
Uphold  me  by  the  favour  of  thy  glance  ! 


Accept  in  gree  these  verses  rudely  penned  ; 

A  sign  of  duty  which  to  thee  I  owe : 

And  deign  with  sweet  regard  them  to  defend  ; 

Which  as  condemned  else  are  like  to  go. 

In  thee,  it  rests  the  stamp  on  them  to  set : 
If  current,  Pass  !  Suppressed!  if  counterfeit. 


And  though  the  note,  thy  praises  only  fit, 
Of  sweetest  bird,  the  dulcet  nightingale: 
[RandT stand  Disdain  not  little  Robin  RedbreasT  yet ! 

here,  and  else-  , 

where,  for  the  \A   lllie  Wanting. 

initials  of  the  ""  °  J 

Author.]  What  he  doth  want  in  learning  or  in  skill ; 

He  doth  supply  with  zeal  of  his  good  will 


358  Poem  to  Mistress  E.  Caril.         [R-T< 


Tofte. 
597 


For  only  Thee,  they  were  devised  alone : 

And  unto  Thee,  they  dedicated  are. 

Who  knows  ?     Perhaps  this  kindness,  by  thee  shown, 

Shall  make  this  glimpse  shine  like  a  glittering  star. 

Such  is  thy  virtue  in  the  World  his  sight ; 

Thy  crow  though  black,  may  go  for  swan  most  white. 

Then  doubt  me  not,  though  parted  we  remain : 

In  England  thou  ;  and  I  in  Italy. 

As  I  did  part,  I  will  return  again, 

Loyal  to  thee  ;  or  else  with  shame  I'll  die  ! 

True  Lovers,  when  they  travel  countries  strange, 
The  air,  and  not  their  constant  minds,  do  change. 

Ccelum,  non  animum,  mutant,  qui  trans  mare  currunt. 

Affettionatissimo  servid,  deUd 
divina  Bellezza  sua. 

R.  T. 


LAURA. 


THE  FIRST  PART. 
I. 


to    ever-conquering 


Ortune,    cross-friend 
Love, 
Our  bodies,  Lady,  hath  divided  far ; 
But  yet  our  constant  minds  she  cannot  move, 
Which  over-strong  for  her  devices  are. 
Woe's  me !  in  England  thou  dost  bide, 

and  I, 
Scarce  shadow  of  my  self,  in  Italy. 
But  let  her  do  her  worst,  and  what  is  frail 
And  mortal  seek  to  separate  and  undo ; 
Yet  what  immortal  is,  she  never  shall ! 
A  string  too  high  for  her  to  reach  unto. 
In  spite  of  envious  seeds,  by  malice  sown, 
My  heart  shall  aye  be  thine ;  and  mine,  thine  own  ! 

Padoa. 

II. 

HOUGH  I  do  part,  my  heart  yet  doth  not  part ; 
My  poor  afflicted  body  parts  in  twain, 
And  doth  in  pieces  two  divide  my  heart : 
One  piece  my  fainting  spirit  doth  sustain, 
The  other  part  I  leave  with  thee  behind, 
(The  better  part,  and  of  my  heart  most  dear) ; 
Then  to  that  part,  so  parted,  be  thou  kind  ! 
And  to  the  same  impart  thy  loving  cheer ! 
That  I,  returning,  may  again  unite 
This  parted  heart ;  and  find  for  grief,  delight. 

London. 


36° 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


"R.  Tofte,  &c. 
»597' 


III. 


| Ike  to  the  blacksome  Night,  I  may  compare 
My  Mistress'  gown,  when  darkness  'plays  his 

prize : 
But  her  sweet  face,  like  to  the  sun  most  fair ; 
When  he  in  glory  '"ginneth  to  arise. 
Yet  this  no  whit  the  other  doth  disgrace ; 
But  rather  doubleth  Beauty  in  the  place. 
Contraries  like  to  these  set  opposite, 
So  dainty  and  so  pleasing  in  their  show 
To  lookers  on,  do  breed  no  small  delight ; 
And  pleasure  great  thereby  to  them  doth  grow. 
O  wonder  strange  !     O  solace  sweet !  to  see 
In  one  self  subject,  Night  and  Day  to  be. 


IV. 


n 

jEl 

N  the  Egean  dangerous  Sea  of  Love, 
In  midst  of  faithless  waves  and  wicked  wind  ; 
Where,  to  my  cost,  most  bitter  brunts  I  prove 
A  new  Arion,  there,  myself  I  find. 
And  though,  as  he,  I  play  on  harp  and  sing ; 
Yet  cannot  cunning  mine  so  high  aspire 
As  for  to  make  the  skipping  fish  me  bring 
Unto  that  wished  shore  I  so  desire. 
Only  my  Laura,  peerless  for  to  see, 
May,  in  this  troubled  flood,  my  dolphin  be ! 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 

*597- 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


361 


V. 


REAT  was  the  strife  between  the  sun  on  high 
And  my  fair  Sun,  when  first  she  'gan  to  'pear, 
Who  should  exceed  in  brightest  majesty ; 
And  show  in  sight  of  spacious  world  most  clear. 
The  sun  did  shine ;  but  she  did  lighten  bright, 
And  so  his  burning  beams  extinguished  quite. 
Nay  more,  my  Sun  on  sudden  to  the  sun 
Sent  light ;  and  yet  no  light  at  all  did  want : 
Where  else  the  other  had  been  quite  undone 
For  lack  of  brightness  ;  which  with  him  was  scant. 
The  beauty  then  the  sun  doth  use  to  show, 
My  Sun  doth  give ;  and  from  her,  it  doth  grow. 


VI. 


m 

URNED  to  a  stone  was  he  that  did  bewray, 
Unwitting,  to  the  crafty  thief  himself 
The  theft ;  not  thinking  he  had  stolen  the  prey, 
In  hope  to  gain  a  little  paltry  pelf. 
So  I,  who  unawares  to  cruel  Thee, 
The  robber  of  my  heart,  confessed  the  theft ; 
A  senseless  stone  like  BATTUS  am  to  see  : 
Only  in  this  unlike  that  shape  bereft, 

That  where  to  worthless  stone  he  turned  was  ; 
I  for  a  Touchstone  true  of  Love  do  pass 


362 


L  a  u  k  a. — Part  I. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
'597- 


VII. 

Own  from  the  neck  unto  that  dainty  Breast, 
(Which  Nature  made  a  Mirror  of  Delight ; 
And  where  a  World  of  Beauties  sweet  do  rest) 
Doth  hang  a  costly  Chain  of  Pearl  most  bright ; 
And  of  proportion  are  so  just  and  round, 
That  such  in  India  rich  cannot  be  found. 
Besides,  their  orient  brightness  is  alike  ; 
So  that  mine  eyes  are  dazzled  with  the  same, 
And,  not  much  used  to  see  so  fair  a  sight 
(A  sight  which  doth  the  sun  in  glory  stain), 
Cannot  discern,  though  them  they  both  do  see, 
If  Breast  be  Pearl,  or  Pearl  in  Bosom  be. 


VIII. 

O  give  that  life,  which  had  not  breath  before ; 
Prometheus,  from  above,  stole  heavenly  fire 
For  which  his  boldness  he  was  plagued  sore, 
A  just  reward  for  such  a  high  aspire. 
So  whilst  I  steal  from  thee,  my  heaven  above, 
The  heat  which  doth  revive  my  dying  sprite : 
For  rashness,  mine  eternal  grief  I  prove. 
Yet,  though  our  fault  's  all  one — the  plague  's  not  like : 
He  feels  of  vulture  one,  alone,  the  smart ; 
But  I  have  thousands,  which  still  gnaw  my  heart. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
'597- . 


Fart  I. — L  aura. 


363 


IX. 

Ove,  being  blind,  hath  wrought  me  damage  sore  ; 
Thou,  blind  in  this  my  loving,  evil  wast ; 
Nor  would  I  see  the  snare,  being  blind  far  more, 
Wherein  myself,  I  did  entangle  fast. 

Yet  hath  this  blindness  harm  done  unto  none 
But  unto  Beauty's  buzzard,  me  alone. 
When  blinded  Boy  did  catch  my  harmless  heart ; 
Thou  didst  not  see  the  net  so  intricate 
Which  bound  me  (being  blind,  blind  as  Thou  art !) 
To  be  a  thrall  in  this  most  wretched  state. 
So  that,  alone  to  work  my  misery, 
Love  blind  is  ;  blind  wert  Thou  ;  and  blinder,  I, 


X. 


F,  LAURA,  thou  dost  turn  'gainst  me  in  hate ; 
Then  me,  such  busses  sweet  why  dost  thou  give  ? 
Why  check'st  thou  not  the  Cheeks  which  give  the 

mate? 

The  vital  cause  whereby  I  breathe  and  live  ? 
Perhaps  it  is,  because  through  too  much  joy, 
As  in  sweet  swound  [swoon],  I  might  away  depart : 
If  so  thou  do,  and  think  me  so  to  'noy ; 
Kiss  hardly  !  and  with  kissing,  breed  my  smart ! 
Content  am  I  to  lose  this  life  of  mine  ; 
Whilst  I  do  kiss  that  lovely  lip  of  thine. 


;64 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


tK- 


Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


XI. 


PON  triumphant  chariot,  'passing  rare, 
(In  which  my  Sun  doth  sit  like  Majesty  : 
And  makes  the  day  shew  unto  us  more  fair ; 
Whose  cheerfulness  delights  each  mortal  eye.) 
I,  rash,  like  to  another  PHAETON, 
With  hare-brain  haste,  too  hasty  lept  thereon. 
But  for  my  boldness  dearly  did  I  pay  ; 
And  had  like  plague,  as  he,  for  being  o'er-brave : 
Yet  though  in  equal  fortune  both  did  stay 
(For  life  he  lost ;  and  death  She  to  me  gave) ; 
The  punisher  of  both  was  not  the  same, 
For  he,  by  JOVE ;  and  I,  by  Love  ;  was  slain. 


XII. 


He  beauty,  that  in  Paradise  doth  grow, 
Lively  appears  in  my  sweet  goddess's  Face ; 
From  whence,  as  from  a  crystal  river,  flow 
Favour  divine  and  comeliness  of  grace. 
But  in  her  dainty,  yet  too  cruel,  Breast, 
More  cruelty  and  hardness  doth  abound  ; 
Than  doth  in  painful  Purgatory  rest. 
So  that,  at  once,  She's  fair,  and  cruel,  found  : 
When  in  her  Face  and  Breast,  ah,  grief  to  tell ! 
Bright  Heaven  she  shows ;  and  crafty,  hides  dark  Hell. 


R.  Tofte,  &c." 
I597-. 


Part    I. — L  a  u r 


365 


XIII. 

HlLST  angry  JUNO,  from  the  scowling  skies, 
Thick   swinging    showers    did    downward   send 

amain ; 
My  Lady,  mounting  up  in  stately  wise, 
From  heaven  more  fast  did  fiery  lightning  rain. 
So  that  the  people,  passing,  had  less  harm 
By  water  wet,  than  by  the  fire  o'erwarm. 
The  water  only  wet  their  outward  skin  ; 
A  matter  small,  in  which  was  danger  none : 
But  this  her  fire  did  burn  their  hearts  within  ; 
And  forced  them,  as  they  went,  to  sigh  and  groan. 
So  that  their  grief  was  greater,  sans  all  doubt, 
To  have  within  fire,  than  water,  without. 


XIV. 

He  swift  Meander,  turning,  winds  so  fast, 
And  with  his  stream  in  circle-wise  so  runs ; 
That,  wanton-like,  from  whence  he  springs,  at  last, 
Back  to  his  fountain-head  again  he  comes. 
In  me,  a  river  huge  of  tears,  from  heart 
To  watery  eyes  ascend  ;  from  whence  they  flow, 
And  running  down,  do  from  mine  eyes  depart, 
Descending  to  my  heart  again  below. 

So  that,  through  virtue  of  most  mighty  Love, 
In  heart,  a  new  Meander  I  do  prove. 


t66 


L  a  u  r  a — Part  I. 


R.  Tofte,  ftc. 
1597- 


H 

XV. 

Hou  stranger,  who  with  wand'ring  steps  dost  wend, 
Thy  gazing  eyes  turn  quickly  unto  me ! 
And  to  my  speech,  with  list'ning  ear  attend ! 
In  whom  four  Elements  united  be. 

Mark  well ;  and,  as  a  wonder,  tell  the  same 
Of  Cupid's  force  !  poor  Lovers'  Tamburlaine  ! 
First  this  my  body 's  Earth,  and  earth  most  cold. 
The  Fire  within  my  heart,  in  covert  lies. 
The  Air  's  my  sighs.     Mine  eyes  do  Waters  hold. 
Thus  for  my  Saint,  he  doth  me  martyrize. 

Earth  is  my  body  ;  (Strange  seems  not  this  same  ?) 
The  Air,  my  sighs  ;  eyes,  Water ;  heart,  the  Flame. 


XVI. 

F  lovely  Lass,  for  Fairing  thine,  of  me 
Gold,  in  this  Fair,  thou  meanest  for  to  have ; 
Then  give  me  of  thy  hairs  !  which  golden  be. 
Give  unto  me !  since  thou  of  me  dost  crave. 
Nor  by  this  bargain,  shalt  thou  loss  sustain  ; 
Or  ought  hereby  shalt  hindered  be,  sweet  Wench  ! 
Since  I,  to  courteous  thee,  do  give  again, 
As  thankful,  gold  ;  for  gold  in  recompence. 

Thy  treasure,  so  shall  mine  be ;  mine,  as  thine  : 
Nor  shall  th'  exchange  be  worse  than  gold  most  fine. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 

I597-. 


Pari    I. — L  aura. 


367 


XVII. 


OCKED  in  a  cradle,  like  as  infants  be, 
When  I  was  young,  a  little  wanton  child, 
Two  dainty  dugs  did  nourish  life  in  me  ; 
Whilst  oft  on  them,  with  teat  in  mouth,  I  smiled. 
Ah,  happy  I !  thrice  happy,  might  I  say  ; 
Whilst  in  that  harmless  state  I  then  did  stay. 
But  now  that  I  am  come  to  man's  estate  ; 
Such  dugs  as  nursed  me  in  delight  and  joy 
Do  seek  my  death,  by  poisonous  sugared  bait ; 
Whose  sight,  without  possession,  breeds  me  'noy. 
So  what,  in  childhood,  caused  me  to  live  ; 
Now,  in  my  youth,  doth  death  unto  me  give. 


XVIII. 

F  Sea,  no  other  thing  doth  shew  to  be 
Than  most  unstable  waters  moving  oft : 
With  pardon,  Lady,  you  this  seem  to  me; 
So  most  unstable  is  your  changing  thought. 
I,  likewise,  hold  a  River,  that  o'erwhelms 
With  wat'ry  salt,  within  these  eyes  of  mine. 
Then  let  us  make  a  mixture  'mongst  ourselves 
Of  this  unsteadfastness  and  wat'ry  brine  ! 
Let  's  fashion,  both  of  us,  a  novel  Sea  ! 
So  heaven,  the  Haven  ;  and  Love,  the  Bay  shall  be. 


:68 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


'R.  Tofte,  &c. 
>S97- 


XIX. 

ADY,  the  sun  was  in  Aquarius 
When  thou  wert  born  ;  which  is  the  reason  why 
The  water  of  my  plaints  delight  thee  thus  ; 
Without  once  viewing  me  with  piteous  eye. 
But  when  as  I  was  born,  the  Sign  I  guess 
In  Cancer  was  ;  a  show  of  my  distress. 
This  is  the  cause,  within  my  boiling  breast 
Doth  burn  a  hot  and  unextinguished  fire : 
But  contrary  these  Signs  in  us  do  rest ; 
Nor  do  they  well  accord  to  my  desire. 
Far  better  had  it  been,  Aquarius's  Sign 
Had  happed  to  me ;  and  Cancer's,  had  been  thine ! 


XX. 

Hat  time,  with  brow,  the  Loveliest  'gins  to  scowl ; 
Shewing  disdain  and  fury  in  her  face : 
Methinks  I  see  the  clouds  wax  dark  and  foul ; 
And  gloomy  night  begins  to  run  his  race. 
But,  then  again,  when  She  to  show  begins 
Her  smiling  cheer,  adorned  with  favour  rare : 
Straightways  the  sun,  in  chariot  bright  forth  springs ; 
Clear  are  the  skies  ;  the  gladsome  day,  most  fair. 
Thus,  in  one  face,  I  see,  against  my  will, 
The  rising  of  the  sun  ;  and  falling,  still. 


R.  Tofte,&c." 
I597-. 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


369 


XXI. 


Ankle  the  wound  did  in  my  head  apace ; 
When  fairest  She,  to  play  the  Surgeon  came : 
And  whilst  her  snow-white  hand  did  me  the  grace 
To  lay  the  plaster  on,  which  healed  the  same, 
A  wonder  strange  !     No  sooner  did  she  touch 
The  hurt ;  but  it  appeared  to  be  none  such. 
Yet,  woe  is  me,  no  sooner  by  that  hand 
Was  healed  in  head  my  outward  fest'ring  wound ; 
But  that  instead  of  that,  as  countermand, 
One  mortal  scar  at  inward  heart  I  found. 

Thus,  Love  !  thou  seest  is  changed  my  estate 

She  checks  with  Death,  that  'fore  gave  Life  for  mate. 

Venice. 


XXII. 


F  in  the  midst  of  kindling  burning  fire, 
That  worthy  Roman  burnt  his  valiant  hand  ; 
I  like  another  MUTIUS  in  desire, 
Have  scorched  my  fist  likewise,  through  Love's 
command, 
In  freshest  moisture ;  where  my  Lady  sweet, 
Her  lily  hands,  for  coolness,  dived  oft. 
But  though  desire  between  us  was  alike  ; 
Yet  was  the  matter  diverse  which  we  sought. 
He  chose  to  burn  his  hand,  with  courage  bold, 
In  flaming  fire  ;  and  I,  in  water  cold. 

II.  2  A  i) 


0/ 


0 


L  a  u  r  a — Part  I. 


(-K. 


Tofte,  &c 
1 597 


XXIII. 

He  Gentiles  used,  in  sign  of  sacrifice, 
The  blood  of  men  to  offer  ;  to  appease 
The  warlike  goddess's  wrath,  in  humble  wise ; 
And  through  the  same,  her  angry  mind  did  please 
But  Thou,  more  wicked  Warrior  far  than  she, 
In  reason  may'st  more  cruel  termed  be. 
On  Beauty's  altar,  to  thee  dedicate ; 
Thousands  of  Lovers,  mustering  on  a  row, 
Offer  their  blood  and  hearts  !  yet  mitigate 
Thy  hardened  mind  cannot :  which  flint  doth  show. 
Then  is  she  cruel  less  than  Thou  art  now : 
Since  blood  her  pleased ;  and  Thee  hearts  cannot  bow 


XXIV. 

Or  to  behold  my  Sun,  I  from  the  sun 
Did  seek  my  face  to  shadow  with  my  hand, 
To  shield  me  from  the  heat,  that  'gan  to  come 
In  place,  where  gazing  on  her  I  did  stand. 
But  I  no  sooner  from  that  sun  was  free, 
But  that,  in  that  self  instant  and  that  time, 
I,  of  mine  own  Sun,  found  myself  to  be 
Burnt  with  the  heat ;  a  most  unlucky  sign. 
So  whilst  a  shade  from  sun  did  me  defend, 
A  Sun  more  hot  did  hurt  me  in  the  end. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1597 


:1 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


7i 


XXV. 

HlTE  was  the  orient  pearl  which,  on  a  day, 
That    hand    me  gave :  which    scorns  the   proud 

compare 
Of  purest  white  ;  and  bears  the  palm  away 
As  of  all  pearly  Fairs,  the  orient'st  fair. 
And  whilst  She  offered  unto  me  the  same, 
I  knew  not  which  the  Pearl  was,  of  the  twain. 
So  white  the  hand  was  of  my  peerless  Pearl 
As  it  did  dazzle  with  delight  mine  eyes, 
And  pearl  seemed  to  me,  giving  me  the  pearl  ; 
Which  made  me,  sighing,  say  in  whisp'ring  wise, 
"  Ah,  why  once  may  I  not  so  happy  be, 
This  Pearl  to  have  ;  which  th'  other  gives  to  me  ?  " 


XXVI. 


Hen  you  appear,  appears  the  Break  of  Day ; 
And  shews  to  be  most  fair  and  passing  bright : 
But  if  you  keep  yourself  unseen  away, 
The  Day  shows  not ;  but  keepeth  out  of  sight. 
Then  if  again  you  'gin  yourself  to  show  ; 
Behold  the  Day  to  shew  itself  afresh 
With  sky  most  clear.     So  both  of  you  do  grow 
In  beauty  like :  in  heat  nor  are  you  less. 

Thus  if  your  beams  you  ope,  or  hidden  been  : 
The  Break  of  Day  appears  ;  else  ne'er  is  seen. 


372 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


[E. 


Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


XXVII. 

iUstly  of  thee,  Love  partial,  I  complain 
|  That,  at  one  instant  and  with  one  self  stroke. 
Thou  darted  hast  into  my  heart,  with  pain, 
Cold  chilly  frost ;  and  fiery  flaming  smoke. 
Ay  me  !  within  me,  both  I  secret  hold  : 
And  whilst  th'  one  burns  me,  th'  other  makes 
me  cold. 
Then,  Cruel,  since  thou  wilt,  two  contraries, 
Against  my  soul,  within  my  heart  shall  rest : 
Ah,  yet  make  peace  'twixt  them,  in  loving  wise ! 
Or  else,  sweet  Love,  do  promise  this  at  least! 
Flame  to  my  frost,  and  water  to  my  fire ; 
Life  to  my  heart,  to  comfort  my  desire. 


XXVIII. 

IANA  shineth  in  the  heavens  clear  ; 
Because  from  purest  Sun  she  takes  her  light : 
And  Fair,  she  shews  that  of  DlANA  here 
On  Earth,  doth  borrow  beauty  passing  bright. 
The  virtue  then  that  is  infused  in  her, 
She  from  Diana  hath  ;  or  else  from  none : 
For  other  thews  do  all  in  her  concur ; 
And  unto  her  beholding  are  alone. 

O  wonder  strange  of  Nature  to  reveal ! 

She,  DlAN'  gives  ;  yet  doth  from  Dian'  steal. 

Sienna. 


R.  Tofte,  &c."| 
JS97-J 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


373 


XXIX. 

|S  burnished  gold,  such  are  my  Sovereign's  Hairs ; 
A  brace  of  stars  divine,  her  blackish  Eyes  ; 
Like  to  the  fairest  black  the  raven  bears ; 
Or  fairer,  if  you  fairer  can  devise. 
So  likewise  fair  's  the  beauty  of  her  Breasts ; 
Where  Pleasure  lurks,  where  joy  still  dallying  rests. 
This  Venus'  Bower,  you  rightly  may  compare 
To  whitest  snow  that  e'er  from  heaven  fell ; 
Or  to  the  mines  of  alabaster  fair. 
Woe  's  me  !     'Tis  sweet  to  sleep  in  Cupid's  cell ! 
Whilst  he,  the  heart  makes  surfeit  with  delight ; 
Through  golden  Hair,  black  Eyes,  and  Breast  most  white. 


XXX. 

NTO  thy  favour  (which  when  Nature  formed, 
She  went  beyond  herself  with  cunning  hand), 
I  may  compare  what  is,  in  world,  adorned 
With  beauty  most ;  and  with   most  grace  doth 
stand. 
But  every  mortal  whiteness,  ne'er  so  white, 
The  ivory  white  of  thy  white  hand  exceeds : 
So  that  my  soul,  which  doth  fair  whiteness  like, 
Rests  on  fair  whiteness,  and  on  whiteness  feeds. 
For  this  is  thought,  and  hoped  of  from  thee  : 
White  as  thy  hands,  so  white  thy  faith  shall  be. 


;74 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


■R.  Tofte,  &c. 
»597- 


XXXI. 

ADY,  thou  seemest  like  FORTUNE  unto  me ; 
When  I  most  wistly  mark,  how  thou  dost  go 
With  golden  tresses  loose  (a  joy  to  see  !)  ; 
Which  gentle  wind  about  thy  ears  doth  blow. 
And  as  thou  her  resemblest  in  this  sort ; 
So  dost  thou  in  attire,  and  all  thy  port. 
Only  thou  wantest  for  thy  swift  right  hand 
The  rolling  Wheel :  and  shadowing  Veil  to  hide 
Those  eyes  ;  which,  like  Controllers,  do  command. 
But  if  thou  long'st  of  these  to  be  supplied, 
Take  me,  thy  prisoner,  for  to  play  this  part ! 
For  my  desire  's  the  Wheel,  the  Veil  's  my  heart. 


XXXII. 

Hou,  merry,  laugh'st,  and  pleasantly  dost  smile 
I  woeful  weep,  and  mestful  sorrow  still ; 
Lest  this  thy  mirth  increasing,  me  beguile, 
And  weave  a  web  for  me  of  greater  ill. 
Too  well  perceive  I  this  thy  deep  disdain, 
By  this  thy  feigned  looks  and  cloaked  glee. 
Thou  of  disaster  mine  art  glad  and  fain  ; 
And  fain  my  death,  as  basilisk,  would'st  see ; 
Since  that  of  war  and  'bate  this  laughter  is, 
And  not  of  gentle  peace  and  calmy  bliss. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


75 


XXXIII. 

IJjlNCE  thou  hast  changed  thy  gown  and  thine  attire  ; 
Ah,  change  thy  thoughts  !  not  always  cruel  be  ! 
And  with  new  clothes,  put  on  a  new  desire ! 
That  new,  in  every  point,  I  may  thee  see  : 
And  if  thou  heretofore  unkind  hast  been  ; 
Be  courteous  now,  and  gentle  be  thou  seen  ! 
Thy  glory  great,  thy  praise  more  shalt  thou  find ; 
If,  of  unconstant,  constant  thou  become ! 
And  of  a  foe,  a  faithful  friend  and  kind ! 
Then  change  henceforth  thy  thoughts  !  else  I,  undone. 
Give  me  that  colour  which  so  likes  mine  eyen ! 
If  death,  then  black  :  if  life,  then  carnatine  [rosy  red]. 


XXXIV. 


HANGED  is  my  nature  in  me ;  where  before 
I  like  was  to  a  chilly  freezing  ice ; 
I  now  a  flame  am,  burning  inward  sore : 
And  such  a  flame  that  burneth  in  such  wise 
That  if  LOVE  and  my  Mistress  take  no  care 
For  this  my  hurt,  my  soul  must  quickly  die. 
Yet  one  doth  see  (for  both  not  blinded  are !) 
The  fire  so  hot  doth  burn,  wherein  I  fry, 

That  fierce  PERILLUS's  boiling  Bull  of  brass 
May  unto  this  for  icy  substance  pass. 


5/ 


76 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


p. 


Tofte,  Sic. 
'597- 


XXXV. 

Ar  better  had  it  been,  I  had  been  dead, 
And  laid  full  low  in  latest  home,  my  grave ; 
Than  with  that  drink  myself  for  to  have  fed, 
TJ  Which  LAURA  mine  in  crystal  glass  me  gave. 
The  liquor  pleased  me,  I  must  needs  confess : 
Yet  to  my  heart,  'twas  poison  ne'ertheless. 
So  that  I  had  contrary  quite  effect 
To  my  desire ;  which  I  so  much  did  wish. 
Love  was  in  fault,  who  Reason  doth  reject. 
And  see  my  cruel  luck,  what  happed  in  this ! 
The  wine  was  sweet ;  yet  did  his  nature  turn : 
It  cooled  my  mouth,  but  heart  within  did  burn. 


XXXVI. 


Weet  sang  thy  bird,  in  ebon  cage  shut  fast, 
And  did  delight  thy  dainty  ears  so  much 
As  thou  vouchsafedst  to  give  him  meat  at  last ; 
And  gently  did  his  feathers  stroke  and  touch. 
So,  Lady,  I  likewise,  in  th'  ebony 
Of  thy  bright  eyes  am  prisoner,  and  do  sing 
Thy  Beauty's  praise  ;  and  yet  not  fed  am  I 
By  thee  :  yet  live  through  thee  ;  a  wondrous  thing ! 
Love  to  my  heart  thy  beauty  doth  supply 
For  food  ;  which  else,  through  famine  starved,  would  die. 


Tofte,  &c 
1597 


:] 


Part  I. — L  aura. 


377 


XXXVII. 

F  white  's  the  Moon,  thou  Laura  seem'st  as  white ; 
And  white  's  the  gown  which  you  on  body  wear. 
And  if  her  whitely  horns,  in  calmy  night, 
She,  smoothly  gliding,  shows  to  us  most  clear : 
You,  in  the  daytime,  more  and  brighter  far 
Your  beauty  show  ;  like  bright  Aurora's  star. 
Like  brightness  both  of  you  abroad  do  cast ; 
Though  not  effect  alike  per  accidens  : 
You  shine,  she  shines,  your  powers  eternal  last ; 
But  yet  between  you  is  great  difference. 

Her  brightness  freezeth,  causing  deadly  cold : 
Yours  doth  inflame,  and  lovely  fire  doth  hold. 


XXXVIII. 

VEN  as  the  lamp  goeth  out,  that  oil  doth  wan  t, 
Or  as  the  sun  doth  fall  in  th'  Occident ; 
So  did  my  heart  within  me  'gin  to  pant ; 
My  vital  spirits  away  by  little  went : 
When,  taking  on  me  pity,  graciously 
My  Mistress's  hem  of  garment,  trailing  down, 
Touched  me  ;  and  me  revived  suddenly. 
Then  if  such  virtue  be  within  her  gown  ; 
Imagine  what  doth  stay  her  corpse  within  ! 
Which  who  seeth,  through  sweetness  needs  must  sin. 


37$ 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  I. 


[R. 


Tofte,  &c. 
'597- 


XXXIX. 

EATED  on  marble  was  my  Lady  blithe, 
Holding  in  hand  a  crystal  looking-glass  ; 
Marking  of  Lovers  thousands ;  who  alive, 
Thanks  only  to  her  beauty  rare,  did  pass. 
To  pry  in  glasses  likes  her :  but  afterward 
She  takes  the  nature  of  the  stone  most  hard. 
For  whilst  she  cheerfully  doth  fix  her  eyes, 
Gazing  upon  the  brightness  of  the  one  ; 
Her  heart,  by  th'  other  's  made,  in  strangy  wise, 
Hard  as  a  rock  and  senseless  as  a  stone : 
So  that  if  Love  this  breaketh  not  in  twain ; 
It  will  a  flint  become,  to  others'  pain. 


XL. 

O  more  a  man,  as  once  I  was,  am  I : 
Since  this  new  ClRCE,  moved  by  fierce  disdain.. 
Hath  changed  me  to  a  Fountain  never  dry ; 
s  Wherein  myself,  with  bitter  tears  I  bain  [?  bathe]. 
Then  am  I  one  who  always  eyes  do  bear; 
And  breast  of  water  flowing  only  full. 
Take  heed,  you  Lovers  all,  of  her !  and  fear 
The  sugared  baits  of  this  deceitful  Trull ! 
Lest  by  this  ClRCE  new,  you  be  deceived, 
As  I  have  been ;  and  be  of  shape  bereaved. 


m 

379 

The  Conclusion  of  the  First  Part. 

He  Macedonian  Monarch  once  did  deien, 
In  cheerful  sort,  in  kind  and  loving  wise, 
To  feast  in  village  with  a  homely  Swain  ; 
Who  entertained  him,  as  in  country  guise, 

With  curds  and  creams,  and  such  like  knacks  he 
had. 

Whereof  the  courteous  Prince  accepted  glad. 

So,  Lady,  boldly  I  presumed  have, 

To  invite  you  to  a  sorry  banquet  base  ; 

Nor  to  disdain  the  same,  of  you  I  crave ! 

Though  cates  too  coarse  for  you  ;  too  pocr,  the  place. 

I  cannot,  as  I  would,  give  curds  and  cream  ; 

But  milk  and  whey  :  my  fortune  is  so  mean. 

Yet  (if  you  shall  accept  it  graciously  ; 

And  with  your  favour  sweet,  this  board  adorn) 

The  virtue  which  is  in  you,  presently, 

The  whey,  to  curds ;  the  milk,  to  cream  shall  turn. 

But  if  your  look  (you  angry)  turn  away  ; 

The  milk  shall  still  be  milk  ;  the  whey,  still  whey. 

Then  as  the  sun  in  glorious  wise  doth  shine 
As  well  on  valley  low  as  mountain  high  ; 
Vouchsafe  one  cheerful  glimpse  of  favour  thine 
On  poor  me,  from  out  that  heavenly  eye! 
Unworthy  I,  such  grace  !  I  do  confess  : 
Yet  worthy  thou  to  do  so,  ne'ertheless. 

R.  T. 


LAURA. 

THE  SECOND  PART. 
I. 

F  I  somewhile  look  up  into  the  Skies, 
I  see,  fair  Lady,  that  same  cheerful  light ; 
Which,  like  to  you,  doth  shine  in  glorious 

wise : 
And  if  on  th'  Earth,  I  chance  to  cast  my 
sight ; 

The  moveless  centre  firm  to  me  doth  show 
The  hardness  which  within  your  heart  doth  grow. 
If  Seas  I  view,  the  flowing  waves  most  plain 
Your  fickle  faith  do  represent  to  me. 
So  as  I  still  behold  you,  to  my  pain ; 
When  as  the  Skies,  or  th'  Earth,  or  Seas  I  see : 
For  in  your  seemly  self  doth  plain  appear 
Like  faith  ;  like  hardness  ;  and  like  brightness  clear. 


II. 

ARVEL  I  do  not,  though  thou  dost  not  see 
My  griefs  and  martyrs;  which  I  still  sustain. 
For  thou,  the  Mole  of  Love  dost  seem  to  me ; 
But  if  a  Mole,  th'  art  only  to  my  pain. 
How  comes  it  then  that,  seeing  thou  art  blind, 
Thou  me  consum'st,  as  if  thou  had'st  thy  sight  ? 
Why,  as  thy  nature  by  instinct  doth  bind, 
Stayest  not  below?  Pack  hence,  and  leave  this  light ! 
Either  those  eyes  still  shut,  not  me  to  grieve ; 
Or  under  ground,  in  darkness,  always  live ! 


382  La  vra.— Part  II.  [RTofte^. 


III. 

IF  whilom,  in  times  past,  that  Spartan  Lass 
("  The  Flower  of  Greece,"  Dan  Paris's  costly  joy) 
Through  her  fair  feature,  the  only  causer  was, 
So  many  Knights  were  slain  at  Siege  of  Troy : 
Thou,  Laura,  art  unlike  unto  her  far ! 
In  this  our  Age,  a  much  more  blessed  star. 
For  she  brought  Wars,  Strife,  Death,  and  Cruelty ; 
Where  thou,  alone,  bring'st  Peace  and  Pleasure  still. 
Ah,  happy  thrice,  that  ligs  in  love  with  thee ! 
And  if,  by  chance,  un'wares,  thou  sometimes  kill : 
Thou,  with  thy  smile,  the  wound  canst  heal  again ; 
And  give  him  life,  whom  thou  before  hadst  slain. 

Pisa. 


IV. 


HOOT  forth  no  more  those  darts  from  lightning 
eyes ! 
Unkind  !  Why  seek'st  to  stop  my  fainting  breath  ? 
Go,  and  invent  some  new  kind  exercise ; 
New  weapons  seek  wherewith  me  to  offend  ! 
Play  the  right  Tyrant !  Choices  use  in  death ; 
Whereby,  I  dying,  content  may  rest  thy  will. 
But  tell  me?  Wouldst  so  fain  my  life  should  end? 
And  know'st  not,  Sweet  extremes  do  sudden  kill} 
Cruel,  kiss  me  but  once !  and  thou  shalt  see 
Ended  my  life  with  that  same  kiss  to  be. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


3*3 


V. 


?3  F  what  is  heavy  craves  the  Centre  base ; 
The  earth  below,  as  Nature  wills  the  same : 
Heavy  the  woeful  griefs  are,  in  this  case, 
Which  inward  in  my  heart  I  do  sustain. 
And  if  what  's  light,  by  kind,  aloft  doth  mount : 
Then  light  's  my  love  with  thee,  of  light  account. 
So  that  in  doubtful  dangerous  extreme, 
Wretch  that  I  am  !  myself  am  sore  afraid  : 
And  doubt  of  thee,  so  far  from  Golden  Mean ; 
Nor  know  I  well  out  of  this  depth  to  wade. 
Lest  that  my  life  be  shortened,  or  I  die  ; 
Whether  it  heavy,  falls ;  or  light,  ascends  on  high. 


VI. 

Ady,  what  time  I  seek  in  mournful  note 
To  show  mine  agonies  and  bloody  moan, 
My  Voice  doth  fail ;  and  hoarse  and  harsh  my 
throat : 

And  this  doth  come  through  you,  through  you  alone 
The  whilst  I  think,  by  means  of  you  in  Song, 
To  mitigate  some  part  of  this  my  smart ; 
Instead  thereof,  you  do  me  double  wrong  : 
And  with  a  glance  you  take  away  my  Heart. 
So  that  I  find  great  hurt  by  this  your  theft  : 
Since  where,  before  but  Voice,  now  Heart,  's  bereft. 


;S4 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


"R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


VII. 


|S  rocks  become,  exposed  'gainst  waves  and  wind, 
More  hard  ;  such  is  thy  nature,  stubborn  Dame ! 
Opposed  'gainst  waters  of  my  plaints  most  kind ; 
And  winds  of  mine  hot  sighs,  which  inward  flame, 
That  hardness  such  to  increase  'bout  heart  is  found, 
As  to  it,  soft  might  seem  the  diamond. 
Henceforward  then,  let  no  man  think  to  move 
By  weeping  or  lamenting,  to  his  will, 
This  self-willed  Saint ;  which  too  too  well  I  prove 
A  senseless  stone  to  be  unto  me  still. 

Since,  to  my  grief,  from  all  good  luck  debarred  ; 
With  plaints  and  sighs,  she  doth  become  more  hard. 


VIII. 


Ark,  Lovers !     Hark,  a  strange  miracle 

Of  one,  deprived  of  heart;  yet  death  doth  'scape  ! 
Mine  L.  a  flower  gave  me,  which  sweet  did  smell ; 
And  for  the  same,  away  my  life  did  take. 
So  that  I  only  breathe  through  scent  of  flower ; 
And  without  heart,  not  without  life,  I  live. 
Then  is  not  this,  of  might  LOVE  his  power 
A  wonder  strange  ?  which  he  for  sport  doth  give : 
When  that  a  flower  sustaineth  me  alone 
With  life ;  who  in  my  body,  heart  have  none. 


R.  Tofte,  &c.~] 
IS97-J 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


IX. 


Hen  I  did  part  from  thee  the  other  night ; 
Methought  a  foul  black  dog,  with  ugly  shape, 
Did  follow  me :  and  did  me  sore  affright ; 
And  all  the  way  did  greedy  on  me  gape. 
Nor  I  this  cur,  how  he  at  me  did  howl, 
Can  well  as  yet  forget,  with  chaps  most  foul. 
Then  thinking  of  his  colour,  hateful  black  ; 
Methought  some  ill,  my  thought  did  fear  to  come, 
And  said  within  me,  "  Turn  again,  turn  back ! 
If  forward  thou  dost  go,  thou  art  undone ! " 
Then  pardon,  Lady,  if  I  back  again 
Am  come  this  night,  with  you  for  to  remain. 


X. 


Y  mourning  Mistress's  garments, black  doth  bear; 
And  I  in  black,  like  her,  attired  am  ! 
Yet  diverse  is  the  cause  why  black  we  wear ; 
She  for  another's  death  doth  shew  the  same. 

I  for  another  reason  bear  this  suit ; 
Only  to  show  by  this,  my  outward  weed, 

Mine  inward  grief  (although  my  tongue  be  mute) 
Of  tender  heart ;  which  deadly  sighs  doth  bleed. 
Thrice  happy  I,  if,  as  in  habit  [dress]  we 
Are  both  in  one,  our  minds  both  one  might  be. 

II  2  B  <) 


;S6 


L  a  u  r  a.  —  Part  II, 


[■• 


Tofte,  Sx 
»597- 


£cA  rS 


XI. 


F  April  fresh  doth  kindly  give  us  flowers  ; 

September  yields  with  more  increase  the  fruit. 
Sweetest,  you  have  in  bosom,  Beauty's  Bowers, 
Both   these    sweet    tides :    whence  forth    they 
always  shoot 
Both  flower  and  fruit.     All  only  you,  alone, 
Can  give  me,  when  you  please ;  or  else  can  none. 
O  dainty  bosom,  bosom  rich  in  price, 
Surmounting  mountains  huge  of  beaten  gold  ; 
Whose  whiteness  braves  the  whitest  snow  that  lies 
On  highest  hills,  whose  height  none  can  behold. 
In  you,  my  soul  doth  hope,  without  annoy, 


Both  Spring  and  Harvest,  one  day  to  enjoy. 


Roma. 


XII. 


RAWN,  cunning  Painter,  hast  thou  with  great  art, 
The  Shadow  [Image]  of  my  lovely  LAURA  fair  ; 
Which  object  sweet  not  smally  joys  my  heart : 
But  little  didst  thou  think,  nor  wast  thou  'ware, 
That  where  thou  thought'st  my  fancy  for  to  please, 
Effect  contrary  sorts  to  my  desire : 
So  that  it  breeds,  in  body  mine,  unease ; 
And,  senseless,  burns  my  heart  with  feeling  fire. 
O  strange  success  !     What  made  was  for  content 
Doth  most  displease  ;  and,  lifeless,  doth  torment. 


R.  Tofte,  &c.- 
'S97-. 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


3*7 


XIII. 


Hen  first  the  cruel  Fair  deigned  graciously 
To  look  on  me  with  kind  and  courteous  view  ; 
And  cast  on  me  a  lovely  glancing  eye : 
She  knew  not  that  I  was  her  servant  true. 
But  She  no  sooner  'ware  was  of  the  same  ; 
But  that  She  turned  her  back  with  great  disdain. 
So  as  the  wound  I  then  close  bare  in  breast ; 
I  now,  through  grief,  show  outward  in  my  face : 
But  if  that  She,  by  whom  I  wounded  rest, 
Lives  in  compassion  cold  towards  me,  sans  grace : 
Hard  hearted  is  She,  cruel  was  She  to  her  friend ; 
And  wicked  shall  be,  world  withouten  end. 


XIV. 


HEN  first  the  sun  did  shine  upon  her  eyes, 
Who  fairest  'mongst  her  beauteous  sex  doth  show ; 
The  heavens  her  dainty  corpse,  in  courteous  wise, 
Covered  with  chilly  cold  and  whitest  snow. 
She,  through  the  nature  of  that  humour  cold, 
Both  coldest  Ice,  at  once,  and  purest  White 
Draws  to  herself.   Then  none,  for  strange  should  hold ; 
Though,  to  me,  fair  and  cruel  is  her  sight : 

Since  that  the  heavens,  for  favours,  did  impart 
A  snow-white  corpse  to  her,  and  frozen  heart. 


3S8  L  a  u  r  a.— Part  II.  [R 


Tofte,  *c 

»5v7- 


XV. 

He  dusky  cloud  in  sky,  with  shadow  dark, 
Doth  cover  oft  the  sun's  most  clearest  light 
So  as  his  beams  we  cannot  see,  nor  mark  ; 
And  he  himself  doth  play  at  least  in  sight 
Ah  were  I  such  a  cloud  on  earth  to  cover 
My  sweetest  Sun  !  as  doth  that  cloud,  the  other. 
But  if  that  cloud  do  vanish  soon  away, 
And  doth  as  momentary  pass  and  vade  ; 
Eternal  would  I  be  to  hide  her  aye, 
And  of  a  harder  mixture  would  be  made. 
O  happy  I  !     O  fortunate  eclipse ! 
With  kissing  so  to  darken  those  fair  lips. 


XVI. 

Rom  milk  of  Juno,  as  the  Poets  feign, 
The  Lily  had  its  whiteness,  passing  white : 
And  from  Adonis'  blood,  that  lovely  Swain, 
The  Rose  his  colour  red,  which  doth  delight. 
Thou,  pretty  Soul,  hast  both  the  colours  rare 
Of  these  sweet  flowers  ;  which  others  all  exceed. 
Thy  breast  's  a  bed  of  beauteous  Lilies  fair ; 
Thy  dainty  cheeks,  pure  damask  Rose  breed. 
O  fruitful  garden  flow'ring  ;  where  appear 
The  Rose  and  Lily  at  all  times  of  year ! 


R.  Tofte,  &c." 
'597-. 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


;89 


XVII. 

F  constant  love,  I  am  the  wasted  fire ; 
The  furious  wind  's  my  Lady's  angry  eye : 
Who  whilst  She  kindles  both,  through  wrathful  ire, 
The  flame  increaseth,  mounting  to  the  sky. 
In  midst  is  Love,  half  dead  of  grievous  pain  ; 
And,  doubtful,  winds  about  like  sparkling  flame. 
He  fears  the  heat :  and  trembles,  being  turned 
Unto  this  blast ;  which  still  more  sharp  doth  rise. 
Nor  is  his  fear  in  vain,  when  so  he  is  burned : 
For  one  of  these  must  hap,  in  sudden  wise, 
Either  the  fire  must  spoil  him  as  his  prey ; 
Or  whirling  wind  else  blow  him  quite  away. 


XVIII. 


■\  V 


Y  LAURA  wonders  that,  in  visage  pale, 
I  bear  of  Death  itself,  the  lively  show  : 
But  if  She  muse  at  this,  her  musing  's  stale ; 
For  this  sad  colour  had  I  long  ago. 
The  fire,  close  burning  in  my  veins,  doth  make 
That  outward  ashes  in  my  face  you  view : 
But  if  that  She  would  on  me  pity  take, 
Who  is  the  cause  of  this  my  palish  hue, 

This  kindled  heat  shall  die,  which  now  doth  burn  ; 
And  my  first  colour  shall  again  return. 


39° 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


"R.  Tofte.  &c. 
1597- 


XIX. 

HlLST  foaming  steed  I  spur  unto  the  quick, 
To  make  him  gallop  to  my  Love  amain : 
Love  doth  my  thoughts,  through  Fancy,  forward 
prick  ; 
The  end  of  wished  journey  mine  to  gain. 

But  light  's  his  hurt !     'Tis  but  a  little  smart ! 
Where  mine  is  mortal,  sounding  to  the  heart. 
Run  then,  my  gelding  swift,  like  Pegasus  ! 
Fly  hence  with  wings  !  for  wings  hath  my  desire  : 
Both  of  us,  forced  amain,  are  forward  thus, 
And  kindled  in  us  is  a  burning  fire. 
Thou,  through  two  spurs  in  flank,  provoked  art  sore : 
But  thousands  inwardly,  my  heart  do  gore. 


XX. 


ICH  is  the  diamond,  a  gem  of  price  ; 
Yet  such  the  nature  strange  is  of  the  same, 
That  who  the  powder  thereof  drinks,  straight  dies 
And,  as  if  poison  'twere,  doth  take  his  bane. 
So  thou  another  precious  jewel  art ; 
In  name  and  nature  not  unmuch  alike : 
Since  death  thou  giv'st  unto  the  loving  heart ; 
If  but  a  kiss  one  sucks  from  thee  most  sweet. 
Whilst  he  doth  swallow  down  his  sugared  bait ; 
The  joy  's  so  great,  it  kills  him  through  conceit. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 


:,   &C.T 

1 597- J 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


39 1 


XXI. 


"3  v 


He  Grecians  used  to  offer  up  their  hair 
Unto  their  rivers  :  whom  they  did  esteem 
As  mighty  gods  ;  and  them  great  honour  bare, 
As  if  no  virtue  small  in  them  had  been. 
Do  thou  the  like,  sweet  LAURA,  unto  me ! 
Who,  for  my  love,  deserves  a  greater  fee. 
Thy  golden  tresses  on  me  do  bestow  ! 
Who  hold  whole  rivers  flowing  in  mine  eyes : 
Yet  would  not  I,  thou  off  shouldst  cut  them  though. 
Dost  muse?  and  ask,  How  this  thou  may'st  devise  ? 
I'll  tell  thee.     Give  thyself  to  me  for  mine  1 
So  shalt  thou  give,  uncut,  thy  tresses  fine. 


XXII. 

NE  lovely  glance,  which  from  the  eyes  did  pass 
Of  Lady  mine,  hath  changed  my  gentle  heart 
From  hardest  diamond  to  brittle  glass  : 
And  now  again  (unto  my  bitter  smart), 
Through  dreadful  frown,  she  turns  it  suddenly 
As  'twas  before,  from  glass  to  diamond. 
So  if  She  will,  She  may  (and  presently, 
As  likes  her)  change  me  ;  who  to  her  am  bound. 
If  cruel  She  ;  my  heart  is  hard  to  break : 
If  pitiful ;  'tis  gentle,  brittle,  weak. 


392 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


XXIII. 

Wo  winds,  one  calm,  another  fierce,  to  see ; 

Th'  one  of  the  Spring,  of  Winter  th'  other  right  : 
I  plainly,  Lady,  do  discern  in  thee  ! 
The  first,  which  makes  me  joy,  breathes  from 
thy  sight 
Such  dainty  flowers,  in  diverse  coloured  show, 
As  makes  to  blush  Dame  Iris's  rainy  bow. 
The  second,  which  makes  me  to  pine  away, 
Blows  from  thine  inward  breast,  a  deadly  blast  ; 
Where  doth  eternal  hardness  always  stay, 
Which  I  do  see  eternal  aye  to  last. 

So  as  calm  Zephyrus,  in  face,  thou  art ! 

But  rough  as  boisterous  BOREAS,  in  thine  heart. 


XXIV. 

O  sooner  do  I  earnest  fix  mine  eyes 

On  my  fair  Sun  :  but  that  I  her  perceive 
To  vanish  like  a  cloud,  in  darkest  wise ; 
As  if,  eclipsed,  her  light  it  did  bereave. 
I  know  not,  If  She's  troubled  thus  because 
She  doth  disdain  I  should  behold  her  so : 
Or  if  for  fear,  this  shadow  to  her  draws  ; 
Lest  me  her  beams  should  hurt,  which  glistering  show. 
Say  then,  sweet  LOVE,  for  thou  know'st  best,  if  still 
I  shall  behold  her  ;  or  no  more,  thou  will. 


R.  Tofte,  &c." 
I597-. 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


393 


XXV. 

that  I  were  sly  Proteus  !  for  to  take 
On  me  that  form  which  most  I  like  or  wish : 
Then  would  I  change  myself  unto  the  shape 
Of  that  thy  little  whelp,  thy  joy  and  bliss. 
Into  that  little  worm  thou  so  dost  like ; 
And  dallying,  play'st  with  him  both  day  and 
night. 
Those  savoury  smacks,  those  busses,  sweet  which  be, 
Which  thou  to  him  dost  give,  should  all  be  mine : 
And  I  would  make  my  heart  to  leap  for  glee ; 
Whilst  I  did  lick  that  bosom  fair  of  thine. 
But  since  I  to  despair  of  this  am  brought : 
My  wish  shall  Proteus  be  ;  thy  dog,  my  thought ! 


XXVI. 


f  AY,  gentle  friend,  tell  me  in  courtesy, 

Before  what  was  I  ?  and  what  am  I  now  ? 
A  senseless  Shadow,  or  a  Body,  I  ? '' 
"  Neither  of  both.    Mark,  and  I'll  tell  thee  how. 
No  Body  now :  for  that,  by  proud  disdain 
Of  scornful  She,  dislived  was.     Shadow  none  ; 
For  that  did  underground  go  with  the  same, 
Unwilling  it  should  wander  all  alone." 

"  What  am  I  then  ?"   "  Even  one  that  doth  not  know 
What  now  he  is  :  or  what  he  was,  can  show." 


594 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  1 1 . 


"R.  Tofte,  &c. 
»597- 


XXVII. 


He  Blazing  Star  foretells  the  hapless  fall, 
And  sudden  death  of  others,  soon  to  come. 
To  me  a  Face,  brighter  than  Comets  all, 
Doth,  with  her  looks,  my  fortune  hard  forerun  ; 
And  with  her  shooting  darts,  from  glancing  eye, 
Presageth  that,  ere  long,  I  needs  must  die. 
The  Blazing  Star  death  only  prophesies  ; 
This  doth  foreshew  to  me  a  harder  fate : 
And  dares  me  to  mine  end,  in  warlike  wise ; 
Nor  how  this  Challenge  know  I  to  escape. 
Ah,  cruel  Star !  of  death  not  only  sign  ; 
But  murderer  th'  art  of  this  poor  life  of  mine 


XXVIII. 


He  Crow  makes  war  with  the  Chameleon  ; 
And,  being  hurt,  to  th'  laurel  straight  doth  fly 
And,  through  the  fruit  he  findeth  thereupon, 
Is  healed  of  hurt,  finds  food,  and  lives  thereby. 
LOVE  the  Chameleon  is  ;  the  Crow  am  I : 
And  battle  wage  with  him  unto  the  death. 
He  wounds  me  deadly  ;  whereupon  I  hie 
To  thee,  my  LAURAL !  to  restore  my  breath. 
Thou  me  reviv'st.     Such  virtue  's  in  thee  rife 
As  thou,  at  once,  dost  give  me  food  and  life. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 

1597- 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


395 


XXIX. 

MONGST  the  Parthians  is  a  kind  of  ground 
Of  nature  such  as,  though  it  far  doth  stand 
From  fire :  yet  fire  to  take  it  straight  is  found 
And  flying  thither,  burns  it  out  of  hand. 
This  prey  so  sure  of  Love  am  I,  fair  Dame ! 
And  you  to  me,  which  burneth  me,  the  flame. 
So  that  if  I,  to  you  far  off  do  show  ; 
You  kindle  straight  in  me  a  quenchless  fire : 
And  yet,  although  within  it  burn  me  so, 
Sweet  is  the  heat  whose  fuel  is  desire. 
For  rather  I,  in  fire  near  you  would  be : 
Than  freed  from  flame,  you  farther  off  to  see. 


XXX. 


Ove,  ope  my  heart !  Hot  fire  thou  forth  shall  take 
Open  my  Laura's  !     In  it  thou  shalt  find 
Cold  frost.     Then  of  these  two  contraries  make 
But  one ;  and  that  same  one,  frame  thou  more 
kind! 
Of  both  our  hearts,  make  but  one  loving  heart! 
And  give  it  unto  which  thou  please,  of  twain. 
Give  it  to  her  !     To  her  do  it  impart ; 
Or  unto  me !     It  skills  not  much  the  same. 

I'll  doubt  no  more,  when  but  one  heart  we  have 
Between  us  both :  for  this  is  all  I  crave. 


396 


L  a  u r  a. — Part  II. 


[R. 


Tofte,  &C. 
«S97. 


"X-J^ 


XXXI. 

Nto  an  Image  may  I  right  compare 
My  Mistress,  since  so  cruel  She  's  to  me  : 
Which  standeth  for  a  sign  or  shadow  fair ; 
To  which  the  simple  ignorant  bow  with  knee  : 
And  though  with  eyes,  mouth,  ears,  and  feet  it  show  ; 
Yet  doth  it  neither  see,  talk,  hear,  or  go. 
So  plays  my  Choice,  when  I  appear  in  sight  : 
Nor  see,  nor  speak,  nor  hear,  nor  stay  She  will. 
So  as  an  Idol,  She  resembleth  right ; 
Blind,  mute,  deaf,  moveless,  senseless  standing  still. 
Then  am  not  I  worse  than  a  lifeless  block  ; 
To  worship  such  a  painted  coloured  stock. 

Fiorenza. 


XXXII. 

Oth  gems,  and  pearls,  their  proper  value  have  ; 
But  yet  unlike :  for  not  alike  's  their  price. 
Some  sought  for  are, and  each  one  doth  them  crave 
Others,  more  base,  do  pass  in  worthless  wise. 
A  jewel  rich,  and  princelike  gem,  is  She 
Whom  I  esteem  ;  and  such  account  of  make : 
Yet  in  herself  no  price  hath  for  to  see. 
For  it  is  holden  at  so  high  a  rate 

As  all  the  gold,  nor  silver,  which  doth  lie 

In  th'  earth,  or  sea,  the  same,  at  worth,  can  buy. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 


J 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


397 


XXXIII. 


F  love,  wherein  I  burn,  were  but  a  fire ; 
I  quenched  it  had,  with  water  of  my  plaints : 
If  water,  these  my  Plaints;  I  this  desire 
Had  dried  through  inward  heat,  my  heart  that 
taints. 
But  LOVE,  that  in  my  griefs  doth  take  delight, 
Both  fire  and  water  turns,  to  work  me  spite. 
Fly  then,  this  LOVE  !  since  such  is  his  great  power 
As  waves  to  fire,  and  fire  to  waves,  he  turns : 
And  with  an  absent  Beauty,  every  hour, 
My  fainting  heart  with  Fancy's  fuel  burns  ; 

And,  'gainst  all  sense,  makes  me,  of  CARe  and  IL 
More  than  of  good  and  comfoRT,  to  have  will. 


XXXIV. 


IVERS  unto  the  Sea  do  tribute  pay. 
A  mo.it  unconstant  moving  Sea  art  thou  ! 
And  I,  within  mine  eyes,  bedewed  aye, 
A  River  hold  of  bitter  tears  as  now. 
Receive  then,  from  these  moistened  cheeks  of  mine, 
Into  thy  lap,  the  water  forth  I  pour ! 
Of  duty  mine,  and  of  thy  debt,  a  sign  : 
And  mix  together  with  my  sweet,  thy  sour ! 
So  shall  the  water  to  the  water  be 
More  precious  ;  and  the  Sea,  more  rich  to  ih'  Sea 


39* 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


"R.  Tolte  &c. 
»597- 


XXXV. 

Uch  is  the  virtue  of  the  sunny  heat, 
As  seizing  on  the  Cockle  Shell  (which  lies 
On  seaish  shore),  whereon  his  beams  do  beat, 
It  makes  it  brightly  shine,  in  orient  wise : 
So  that,  through  secret  power  of  radiant  sun, 
Of  worthless  shell,  a  pearl  it  doth  become. 
So,  Lady,  you,  through  force  of  Beauty's  power, 
If  you  shall  deign  to  glance  on  me  your  eye, 
And  rain  with  grace  on  me  a  smiling  shower, 
A  jewel  rich  you  make  me  by  and  bye : 
And  if  no  pearl ;  at  least  a  precious  stone. 
This,  only,  can  you  do  ;  or  else  can  none. 


XXXVI. 

He  blood  of  fair  Adonis,  Venus  changed 
Into  a  flower:  who,  whilst  he  did  pursue 
In  forest  thick,  where  as  he  hunting  ranged, 
The  savage  boar  to  kill ;  the  boar  him  slew. 
Do  thou  the  like,  sweet  Love !     Do  thou  the  same, 
Whilst  now  my  life  doth  languish,  through  thy  power 
And  whilst  my  wound  makes  me  for  to  remain 
Withouten  blood,  transform  me  to  a  flower ! 
That  where  I,  living,  cannot ;  dead,  I  may  ; 
A  loved  flower  in  Laura's  bosom  stay. 


R.  Tofte,  &c 


,  &c.-] 


Part  II. — L  aura. 


399 


XXXVII. 


N  ocean  Sea  of  water  calm  am  I ; 
Wherein  kind  Love  the  form  of  Fish  doth  take, 
Leaping  alongst  the  shore  most  wantonly. 
Then,  Lady,  of  a  Fisher  don  the  shape ! 
Ah,  what  sweet  fishing  shall  you  have  to  like ; 
If  LOVE  you  chance  to  catch,  while  he  doth  bite? 
Come  then,  and  naked  into  this  water  hie ! 
He  cannot  'scape  ;  but,  here,  perforce  must  bide  ! 
'Less  to  my  heart,  to  save  himself,  he  fly. 
Then  quickly  strip  thyself !     Lay  fear  aside  ! 
For  of  this  dainty  prey,  which  thou  shalt  take ; 
Both  Sea,  Fish,  and  Thyself,  thou  glad  shalt  make. 


XXXVIII. 


ICH  Damask  Roses  in  fair  cheeks  do  bide 
Of  my  sweet  Girl,  like  April  in  his  prime: 
But  her  hard  heart,  cold  chilly  snow  doth  hide  ; 
Of  bitter  Januar,  the  perfect  sign. 
Her  hair  of  gold  shows  yellow  like  the  corn 
In  July,  when  the  sun  doth  scorch  the  ground  ; 
And  her  fair  breast,  ripe  fruit  which  doth  adorn 
September  rich.     So  as  in  her  is  found 

Both  Harvest,  Summer,  Winter,  Spring  to  be : 
Which  you  in  breast,  hair,  heart,  and  face  may  see. 


400 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  II. 


[R. 


Tofle,  &c 
>597 


XXXIX. 

H'  immortal  Parcle,  fatal  Sisters  three, 
Of  mortal  men,  do  sing  the  shunless  fate  : 
What  once  Was,  what  Is  now,  and  what  Shall  Be ; 
Their  life,  their  death,  their   fortune,  and   theii 
state. 
Our  Song  let  be  like  theirs  !  for  Three  they  were ; 
And  so  our  number  is.     Three  are  we  here. 
Sing  Laura  then  !  Sing  LOVE  !  and  sing  will  I ! 
Of  dreary  fortune  mine,  sing  let  us  all ! 
Let 's  sing  in  doleful  tune  most  mournfully, 
How  'Tis,  how  'Twas,  and  hapless  still  Shall  fall ; 
The  Present,  Past,  and  (which  none  can  mend) 
What  Shall  Be,  world  to  come,  withouten  end. 


XL. 

He  heavens,  their  restless  sphere  do  always  move. 
In  thee  doth  move  the  faith,  which  thou  didst 

plight. 
And  I,  IXION-Iike,  still  in  my  love 
Do  roll ;  and  yet  I  roll  my  wheel  aright. 
So  that,  'twixt  us,  continual  motions  wend. 
But  which  is  worse,  unconstant  Wench,  I  see ! 
The  heavens  will  have  their  motions  without  end ; 
Which,  never  ceasing,  roll  continually : 

And  thou,  like  them,  to  roll  dost  mean  thy  fill ; 
And  since  'tis  so,  I'll  roll  too,  against  my  will ! 


%& 

401 

The  Conclusion  of  the  Second  Part. 

Hus  is  the  Second  Course  now  served  in. 
A  Course  too  coarse  for  such  a  dainty  Dame 
Yet,  Lady,  though  the  cheer  be  bad  and  thin : 
Because  it  comes  of  zeal,  accept  the  same  ! 

And  though  not  worthy  of  your  grace  it  be ; 

Yet  make  it  gracious  through  your  courtesy ! 

Great  sumptuous  feasts  the  stomach  doth  dislike ; 

Which  oft,  in  body  dangerous  surfeits  breed : 

Where  dishes  few  revive  our  sense  and  sprite  ; 

And  Nature  's  pleased  on  little  for  to  feed. 
This,  as  a  sauce,  your  appetite  to  move, 
Accept !  where  meat  's  the  heaRT,  where 
cook  is  Love. 

Nor  think  the  worse,  though  I  have  spun  a  thread 
So  fine  (I  mean  your  praise)  I  cannot  mend  : 
Since  'tis  a  Work  to  ground  the  wisest  head  ; 
And  mar  I  should  this  loom,  this  cloth  not  mend. 

So  Venus'  matchless  shape  Apelles  drew  ; 

But  how  to  finish  it,  he  never  knew. 

Far  more  's  my  mind  than  is  my  feeble  might. 

My  pencil,  for  thy  picture  is  too  weak. 

The  sun  is  only  for  the  eagle's  flight. 

My  strength's  too  small,  this  hardened  ice  to  break. 
Not  painted,  scarce  I  thee  have  shadowed  here  : 
This  task  's  for  such  as  have  in  skill  no  peer. 

R.  T. 

II.  2C  9 


LAURA. 

THE  THIRD  PART. 
I. 

Ho  joys  in  love  ?  The  Heart  alone,  to  see. 

Who   languisheth  in  love  ?    The  Heart 

alone. 

Then  is  't  a  thing  impossible  for  me 

To  joy  or  languish :  since  I  Heart  have 

none. 

Withouten  Heart !  Then  tell  me,  What  am  I  ? 

Even  bones  and  flesh  united  cunningly. 

The  Soul,  where  is  't  ?     Love  that  hath  ta'en  away  : 

My  Body  only  resteth  in  his  place. 

Deprived  of  Soul  and  Heart,  how  live?  I  say, 

I  live,  maintained  by  love,  in  this  strange  case. 

O  wonder  strange,  the  Body  live  to  see ; 

The  Heart  and  Soul  in  other  place  to  be. 

Napoli. 


II. 

HAT  crimson  gown,  with  drops  of  blood  ywrought, 
Which  LAURA  wears,  a  token  is  most  true, 
How  that  of  blood  desirous  is  her  thought : 
And  that  'tis  so,  I  best  can  tell  to  you. 
My  wronged  heart  too  well  doth  find  the  same ; 
Who,  thousand  times,  not  once,  hath  wronged  been 
By  her :  and,  now,  to  aggravate  my  pain, 
(More  cruel  in  desire  for  to  be  seen), 

By  outward  habit  [dress]  covets  She  to  show 
What,  inward,  in  her  mind  She  hides  below. 


404 


L  a  u r  a. — Part  III. 


[R.T 


ofte,  &c. 
1597- 


III. 


He  flaming  torch,  a  shadow  of  the  light, 
Put  out  by  hasty  hand,  doth  colour  change ; 
And  black  becomes,  which  seemed  before  most 
bright : 

Nor  so  to  show  is  any  marvel  strange. 
So  was  I  long  a  lively  fire  of  Love  ; 
The  heat  whereof  my  body  oft  did  prove  : 
But  I,  at  last,  by  one  who  moaned  my  woe, 
Extinguished  was,  by  pitiful  Disdain. 
Then  if  my  colour  black  in  face  do  show, 
You  need  not  much  to  wonder  at  the  same  ; 
Since  'tis  a  sign,  by  part  to  know  the  whole, 
That  Love  made  me  a  fire,  Disdain  a  coal. 


IV. 


ARDONED  of  every  wicked  fact  was  he, 
To  Hebe's  Temple  that,  with  prayers,  came : 
And,  of  such  grace  in  sign,  his  bonds,  as  free, 
He  left  hung  up  on  high  within  the  same. 
I,  Lady,  erred  have ;  and  humbly  come 
To  thee,  who  art  the  Temple  fair  of  Love : 
Off  ring  to  thee  my  prayers,  all  and  some, 
To  free  me  from  my  faults,  thy  heart  let  move ! 
In  token  of  which  gift,  with  thee  I'll  leave 
My  jealous  thoughts ;  wherewith  I  did  thee  grieve. 


R.  Tofte,  &c.~ 

IS97-. 


Part  III. — L  a  u  r  a. 


405 


V. 


F  thou  art  cold,  as  is  the  Winter's  snow ; 
I,  as  the  Summer,  hot  am  most  extreme : 
Then  let 's  unite  thy  heart,  which  cold  is  so, 
To  mine  so  warm  ;  and  make  of  both  a  mean  ! 
So  th'  one  a  help  to  th'  other  still  shall  be  ; 
And  linked  in  concord,  as  two  doves  shall  'gree. 
To  form  this  frame,  Love  shall  the  workman  play. 
Then  let 's  with  July,  January  mix  ! 
Let 's  make,  between  us,  an  eternal  May  ! 
An  everlasting  truce,  twain  betwix  ! 

Thy  Winter,  with  my  Summer  let  us  join ! 
My  fire  so  warm,  with  frost  so  cold  of  thine ! 


VI. 


^1 

He  cruel  NERO  used  on  golden  hook, 
The  harmless  fish  to  catch  with  sugared  bait  : 
So  courteous  LOVE,  fishing,  me  quickly  took  ; 
Whilst  he  with  dainty  prey  for  me  did  wait. 
Yet  far  more  fortunate  am  I  in  this : 
For  whereas  Nero's  hooks  most  sharp  did  kill  ; 
The  other  hooks  revive  the  taken  fish, 
Whilst  they  do  hold  him  gently  by  the  gill. 

But  hooks  they  are  none  !  For  hooks  they  are  too  fair ! 
Two  golden  tresses  be  they  of  fine  hair  ! 


406 


Laura. — Part  III. 


"R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1597- 


VIL 


HEN  She  was  born  ;  She  came,  with  smiling  eye, 
Laughing  into  the  world,  a  sign  of  glee. 
When  I  was  born ;  to  her  quite  contrary, 
Wailing  I  came  into  the  world  to  see. 
Then  mark  this  wonder  strange  !  What  nature  gave ; 
From  first  to  th'  last,  this  fashion  kept  we  have. 
She  in  my  sad  laments  doth  take  great  joy  : 
I,  through  her  laughing,  die  ;  and  languish  must, 
Unless  that  Love,  to  save  me  from  this  'noy, 
Do  unto  me,  unworthy,  shew  so  just 
As  for  to  change  her  laughter  into  pain  ; 
And  my  complaints,  into  her  joy  again. 


VIII. 


N  Love  his  kingdom  great,  two  Fools  there  be 
My  Lady  's  one  ;  myself  the  other  am. 
The  fond  behaviour  of  both,  which  to  see  ; 
Whoso  but  nicely  marks,  will  say  the  same. 
Foolish  our  thoughts  are.     Foolish,  our  desire. 
Foolish  our  hearts  in  Fancy's  flame  to  fry. 
Foolish  to  burn  in  Love's  hot  scorching  fire. 
But  what  ?     Fools  are  we  none.     My  tongue  doth  lie. 
For  who  most  foolish  is,  and  fond,  in  love ; 
More  wiser  far  than  others,  oft  doth  prove. 


K.  Tofte,  &c 
1597 


:] 


Part  III. — L  aura. 


407 


IX. 


0  sooner  Laura  mine  appears  to  me  ; 
But  that  a  dainty  dye,  or  blushing  red, 
In  both  our  faces  showeth  for  to  be. 
But  who,  alas,  doth  mine  so  overspread  ? 
O'er-fervent  Love  doth  draw  this  shadow  pure  ; 
Like  cunning'st  Painter,  long  for  to  endure. 
Who  painteth  hers  ?     Disdain,  with  pencil  hard  ; 
Which  turneth  all  my  sweetness  into  sour. 
So  that  all  my  designs  are  quickly  marred  ; 
Except  LOVE  bind  Love,  by  his  awful  power, 

In  Faith's  firm  bands.     Too  high  th'  exchange  will 

grow, 
When  love,  for  hate ;  and  not  for  like,  shall  go. 


X. 


HcEBUS  had  once  a  bird,  his  chief  delight, 
Which,  only  'cause  he  had  an  evil  tongue, 
He  made  him  black ;  who  was  before  most  white. 
So  if  all  those  who,  Lovers  true  have  stung 
With  spiteful  speech,  and  have  their  loves  betrayed  ; 
Or  to  their  Ladies  false  be  and  untrue, 
Setting  at  nought  the  promise  they  have  made ; 
LOVE  would  but  change  into  this  coal-black  hue : 
Thousands  abroad,  like  sea-coal  crows  should  show  ; 
Who,  now  unknown,  for  snowy  swans  do  go. 


4o8 


L  a  u  r  a. — Part  III. 


r 


Tofte,  &c 
IS97. 


XL 


N  silver  stream,  on  shallow  fountain's  shelf, 
The  lively  image  saw  he  in  the  same ; 
Who  was  in  love  with  shadow  of  himself : 
Through  pride  forgetful  how  his  likeness  came. 
Such  one  myself,  by  chance,  I  see  to  be ; 
When  as  in  river  I  myself  did  see : 
Yet  I  myself,  instead  of  loving,  hate. 
And  such  strange  hatred  is  this,  and  so  strong ; 
That  while  he,  loving,  died  by  justest  Fate, 
Himself  by  seeing,  whilst  he  himself  did  wrong  : 
I  die  will  unto  him  contrary  clean  ; 
'Cause  I,  hating  myself,  myself  too  much  have  seen. 


XII. 


Oy  of  my  soul !     My  blindfold  eyes'  clear  light ! 
Cordial  of  heart !     Right  methridate  of  love  ! 
Fair  orient  pearl !     Bright  shining  margarite  ! 
Pure  quintessence  of  heaven's  delight  above  ! 
When  shall  I  taste,  what  favour  grants  me  touch  ; 
And  ease  the  rage  of  mine  so  sharp  desire  ? 
When  shall  I  free  enjoy,  what  I  so  much 
Do  covet ;  but  I  doubt  in  vain,  to  aspire  ? 
Ah,  do  not  still  my  soul  thus  tantalise ; 
But  once,  through  grace,  the  same  imparadise  ! 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
*597- 


Part  III. — L  aura. 


409 


XIII. 

A  INTER,  in  lively  colours  draw  Disdain  1 

Dost  ask,  How  that  may  rightly  shadowed  be? 
I'll  tell  thee.     If  thou,  fine,  wilt  do  the  same  ; 
My  Lady  paint !  and  thou  Disdain  shalt  see. 
Fond  man  !  dost  not  believe?  or  think'st  I  jest? 
If  doubtful  thou  remain,  then  hear  the  rest ! 
Mark  her  but  well ;  and  thou  shalt,  in  her  face, 
See  right  Disdain  :  which,  coming  from  her  eyes, 
Makes  her  to  look  with  most  disdainful  grace  ; 
Then  if  thou  seest  it,  in  so  plain  a  guise, 

Straight  shadow  [paint]  her !   For  this  one  counterfeit 

[picture] 
Of  her,  and  of  Disdain,  shall  show  the  shape. 


XIV. 

ITH  gold  and  rubies  glistereth  her  small  hand  ; 
But  if  you  match  them  with  her  lips  or  hair, 
They  seem  withouten  brightness  for  to  stand 
The  others  have  such  lively  colours  fair. 
O  worthy  Beauty !  peerless  A  PER  SE  ! 
To  whom  all  other  Beauties  are  most  vile. 
O  fairness  such  as  fairer  none  can  be ! 
Thou  grace  itself,  of  graciousness  dost  spoil ! 
With  rubies,  thou  right  rubies  dost  disgrace ! 
With  gold,  bright  gold  thou  stainest  in  his  place  ! 


4io 


L  a  u r  a. — Part  III. 


LK 


.  Tofie,  &c. 
»597 


XV. 


GENTLE  tame  deer  am  I,  called  a  Hart : 
The  cruel  huntress  fierce  my  Mistress  is. 
With  crossbow  bent,  she  comes  to  me  in  Park ; 
Paled  in  with  pleasant  thoughts  of  wanton  wish, 
She  shoots,  and  hits  me ;  takes  me  for  her  prey : 
And  (having  shot,  hit,  taken)  flies  her  way. 
Back  she  retires  from  me,  with  pleasant  smile ; 
Unloosing  me,  and  heals  my  wound  and  pain  : 
When,  as  afresh  incensed  (alack  the  while  !) 
'Gainst  me,  desirous  me  to  plague  again, 

She  turns  towards  me,  o'ertakes  me,  strikes  me  sore : 
And,  binding  up  my  wounds,  makes  deadly  more. 


XVI. 


tt  )!  r 


He  golden  tresses  of  a  Lady  fair ; 

At  first  beginning  were  of  this  my  love : 
But  now,  at  last,  unto  my  double  care, 
To  be  the  end  of  my  sad  life  I  prove. 
Then  did  my  doubtful  spirit  live  in  hope : 
But  now  he  fears,  despairing  as  it  were, 
Because  he  doth  perceive  in  sudden  broke 
His  hope,  which  dying  heart  did  help  and  bear  ; 
Since  that  the  hair,  that  Alpha  me  did  bind 
In  love,  of  life  the  Omega  I  do  find. 


R.  Tofte,  &c.~ 


Part  III. — Laura. 


411 


XVII. 

Weet  Laura,  in  the  water  look  no  more, 
To  see  if  feature  thine  be  fair  or  no  ! 
Look  in  mine  eyes  !  which  tears  rain  streaming 
sore 

Of  bitter  plaints  ;  whose  water  clear  doth  show, 
As  in  a  looking-glass,  most  bright  to  thee, 
Those  favours  which  in  that  sweet  visage  be." 
So  said  I  to  her :  when  She  answered  blive, 
"  And  thou,  my  Love !  say,  Dost  thou  likewise  wish 
To  see  thyself  in  one  that  is  alive  ? 
Then  in  this  breast,  look  where  thine  image  is ! 
Love  shall  alike  in  both  our  bodies  rest : 
Bear  thou  me  in  thine  eyes ;  I'll  thee  in  breast  1 " 


XVIII. 

F,  cruel,  thou  desirous  art  of  blood  ; 
Behold  how  I  do  bleed  in  streaming  wise ! 
Glut  then  thyself  therewith,  if  thou  think  good  ; 
And  do  content,  with  blood,  thy  bloody  eyes ! 
From  breast  it  comes,  where  fainting  heart  doth  lie ; 
And  for  a  gift,  I  it  present  to  thee ! 
Although  I  know,  through  this,  I  soon  shall  die ; 
And  yet  to  die  it  little  grieveth  me : 

Since  'tis  my  wish,  my  blood  with  soul  as  one 
May  rest ;  and  that's  with  thee,  or  else  with  none. 


412 


La  u  a  a. — Part  III. 


"R.  Tofte,  &c. 


XIX. 


HAT  ivory  hand,  a  fan  most  white  doth  hold  ; 
And  to  the  milky  breast  blows  wind  apace ; 
And  yet  is  full  of  chilly  ice  most  cold  ; 
Disgrace  to  others,  to  herself  a  grace. 
But  I,  who  wistly  mark  these  whiteness'  three, 
Vouchsafe,  sweet  LOVE,  this  boon  to  grant  to  me ! 
Distil  within  the  rolling  of  mine  eyes, 
By  virtue  of  thy  power,  such  hidden  flame  ; 
And  let  it  tempered  be,  in  such  strange  wise, 
That,  as  I  cast  my  look  upon  the  same, 
It  quite  may  take  away  her  cruelty ! 
Melt  straight  the  ice !  and  fan  burn  suddenly  ! 


XX. 


p6£j1 

7m 

He  snakes,  amongst  themselves,  so  carefully 
Love  one  another,  wonder  for  to  see ! 
As  if  th'  one  want,  the  other  straight  doth  die. 
Lady,  unto  these  snakes  unlike  we  be ! 
For  if  I  die,  thou  diest  not  for  my  death ; 
But,  through  my  pain  revivest !     Such  is  th)'  spite ! 
And  pleasure  tak'st  to  see  me  void  of  breath. 
Ah,  yet  in  love  let 's  unto  them  be  like ! 

Thou  CUPID,  work!  that  I,  poor  snake  in  love, 
This  'sdainful  snake  for  to  be  kind  may  move. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 


,  &C.T 

'597-J 


L  a  v  r  a. — Part  III. 


4i5 


XXI. 

Aura  is  fair  and  cruel  both  in  one ; 
And  born  was  of  a  dainty  diamond. 
Then  is  it  marvel,  neither  wonder,  none  ; 
Although  her  heart  as  hard  as  stone  be  found. 
Nature  that  hardness,  as  a  Keeper,  gave 
To  her,  her  beauty  thereby  so  to  save. 
But  fond  is  he,  and  simple  in  conceit, 
That  thinks  LOVE  will  not,  one  day,  burst  the  same. 
Then  quickly,  mighty  Lord,  quickly  this  break ! 
Break  thou  this  stony  heart,  so  hard,  in  twain ! 
Unto  thy  power,  let  Nature's  force  still  yield ! 
And  be  thou  Conqueror  'gainst  her  in  Field ! 


XXII. 

He  snow-white  Swan  betokens  brightsome  Day : 
The  coal-black  Crow,  of  darky  Night  is  sign. 
Thou  Day,  or  Night,  bring  unto  me  still  may, 
With  those  bright  lamps,  those  glistering  stars, 
of  thine. 
But,  cruel  thou,  thy  heart  is  bent  so  hard, 
As  I  that  sun  can  never  see  with  eyes 
(That  wished-for  sun,  from  these  my  lights  debarred) : 
Nor  aught  discern  but  mists,  in  foggy  wise. 

Then  since  I  live  in  woe ;  and,  blind,  nought  see  : 
A  Crow,  not  Swan,  thou  still  shalt  be  to  me ! 


414 


L  a  u r  a. — Part  III. 


"R.  Tofte,  &t 
U97- 


XXIII. 

Ay,  Cupid,  since  thou  wings  so  swift  dost  bear ; 
Within  my  heart,  alone,  why  dost  thou  lie  ? 
Why  dost  not  seek  to  lodge  some  other  where ; 
And  to  some  other  place,  why  dost  not  hie  ? 
Go  unto  her,  who  hath  the  lily  breast ! 
Who  though  she  hates  me  ;  yet  I  love  her  best. 
If  her,  to  entertain  thee  thou  shalt  find  ; 
It  is  a  sign  she  hateth  me  no  more. 
Straight  then,  return  again  ;  and  show  her  mind 
To  my  desire !  who  for  this  news  longs  sore. 
Then,  prithee,  go !     No  longer  ling'ring  stay  ! 
Lest,  when  thou  wouldst,  thou  canst  not  go  thy  way, 


XXIV. 


N  quicksedge  wrought  with  lovely  eglantine, 
My  LAURA  laid  her  handkercher  to  dry  ; 
Which  had  before  snow-white  ywashed  been. 
But  after,  when  she  called  to  memory, 
That  long  'twould  be  before,  and  very  late, 
Ere  sun  could  do,  as  would  her  glistering  eyes : 
She  cast  from  them  such  sparkling  glances  straight, 
And  with  such  force,  in  such  a  strangy  guise, 
As  suddenly,  and  in  one  selfsame  time, 
She  dried  her  cloth  ;  but  burnt  this  heart  of  mine. 


R.  Tone,  &c. 
1597 


:] 


Part  III. — Laura. 


415 


XXV. 

Old  upon  gold,  mine  only  Joy  did  plate, 
Whilst  She  did  dress  her  head  by  crystal  glass 
But  whilst  She  looked  on  it,  it  sudden  brake ; 
So  as,  amazed  thereat,  much  grieved  She  was  ; 
To  whom  I  said,  "  To  grieve  thus,  'tis  in  vain  : 
Since  what  is  broke,  whole  cannot  be  again. 
Look  steadfastly,  with  both  thine  eyes  on  me  ! 
Who  have  my  heart,  through  love,  a  glass  new  made." 
She  on  my  face  looked  ;  and  herself  did  see  : 
Wherewith  contented  th' roughly,  thus  She  said, 
"  Most  happy  I !     Since  for  to  dress  my  head, 
For  broken  glass,  of  whole  one  I  am  sped." 


XXVI. 

He  heavens  begin,  with  thunder,  for  to  break 
The  troubled  air  ;  and  to  the  coloured  fields. 
The  lightning  for  to  spoil  their  pride  doth  threat. 
Each  thing  unto  the  furious  tempest  yields. 
And  yet,  methinks,  within  me  I  do  hear 
A  gentle  voice,  hard  at  my  heart,  to  say : 
"  Fear  nothing,  thou  ;  but  be  of  merry  cheer  ! 
Thou  only  safe,  'fore  others  all  shalt  stay. 

To  save  thee  from  all  hurt,  thy  shield  shalt  be 
The  shadow  of  the  conquering  Laural  Tree." 

Fano. 


416 


L  a  u r  a. — Part  III. 


'R.  Tofte,  &c. 
1 597- 


XXVII. 

Ove  this  fair  Lass !  "  said  Love  once  unto  me. 
I   loved  her.     "  Love  her  now,"  saith  he,  "  no 

more !  " 
When  thousand  darts  within  my  breast  there  be ; 
And  if  I  love  her,  he  me  threateneth  sore. 
He  saith,  "  Himself  is  fallen  in  love  with  her  ; 
And  that  himself,  'fore  others,  he'll  prefer  ! " 
His  sense  is  this.     He,  in  her  beauteous  eyes, 
Hath  found  such  Amours  as  ne'er  like  were  seen  : 
But  thinks  he,  this  shall  serve,  in  cunning  wise, 
To  make  me  leave  ?  he  cozening  me  so  clean  ? 
In  spite  of  him,  I'll  love !  sith  heart  doth  'gree, 
With  Love  in  love  as  rival  for  to  be. 


XXVIII. 


Y  Mistress  writing,  as  her  hand  did  shake, 
The  pen  did  dash,  which  on  her  gown  did  spurt : 
One  drop,  more  higher  than  the  rest  did  take  ; 
And  to  presume  to  touch  her  breast  it  durst. 
Upon  her  dainty  bosom  it  did  light  : 
Wherewith  she  blushed,  in  show  like  damask  rose. 
Presumptuous  black !  how  dar'dst  thou  touch  that  white, 
Wherein  a  World  of  gladsome  pleasure  grows  ? 
Yet,  spite  of  envy,  happed  it  for  the  best : 
To  the  white,  more  grace ;  more  beauty,  'twas  to  th'  breast. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
»597- 


Part  III. — L  aura. 


4i7 


XXIX. 

One  dares  now  look  more  on  my  Laura's  face, 
So  dangerous  is  her  beauty  to  behold  : 
For  he  no  sooner  gives  to  her  the  gaze ; 
But  straight  his  heart,  She  takes  from  him  so  bold 
Such  virtue  's  locked  within  those  ebon  eyes  ; 
Where,  dallying  with  Delight,  Dan  CUPID  lies. 
So  sweetly  rolleth  She  that  radiant  sphere, 
As  She,  from  whom  She  lists,  robs  suddenly : 
So  as  to  look  on  her,  each  one  doth  fear  ; 
And  yet  to  look  on  her,  spare  will  not  I ! 

For  though  I  lose  my  Heart,  and  him  disease . 
I  like  shall  my  Desire ;  and  her  I'll  please. 


XXX. 


NBARE  that  ivory  Hand  !     Hide  it  no  more! 
For  though  it  death  brings  to  my  tender  heart 
To  see  it  naked,  where  is  Beauty's  store  ; 
And  where  moist  pearl  with  azure  doth  impart : 
Yet  fear  I  not  to  die,  in  this  sweet  wise ! 
My  fancy,  so  to  see  't,  is  set  on  fire. 
Then  leave  that  glove !  (most  hateful  to  mine  eyes  1 ) 
And  let  me  surfeit  with  this  kind  desire  ! 

So  that  my  looks  may  have  of  them  their  fill ; 
Though  heart  decay,  I'll  take  it  for  none  ill. 

Mantoa. 


2  D 


4i8 


Laura. — Part  III. 


R.  Tofte,  &c. 
*597- 


XXXI. 


- 


Y  Mistress  seems  but  brown,"  say  you  to  me. 
Tis  very  true,  and  I  confess  the  same : 
Yet  love  I  her  although  that  brown  She  be  ; 
Because  to  please  me,  She  is  glad  and  fain. 
I  loved  one  most  beautiful  before  ; 
"Whom  now,  as  death,  I  deadly  do  abhor. 
Because  to  scorn  my  service  her  I  found  ; 
I  gave  her  o'er,  and  chose  to  me  this  same. 
Nor  to  be  faithful,  think  I,  I  am  bound 
To  one,  in  whom  no  kindness  doth  remain. 
This  is  the  cause,  for  brown  and  pitiful ; 
I  left  a  fair,  but  yet  a  faithless,  Trull. 


XXXII. 

HlTE  art  thou,  like  the  mountain-snow  to  see  ; 
I  Black,  like  to  the  burned  coal  do  show  : 
Then  give  some  of  thy  purest  white  to  me ! 
And  I'll  some  of  my  black  on  thee  bestow  : 
So  will  we  these  two  contraries  unite 
Together  ;  which  so  joined,  will  show  more  fair. 
Let 's  both  then  make  this  change,  for  our  delight ; 
Unless  to  kill  me,  thou  do  little  care ! 

But  why  of  White  or  Black,  talk  I  to  chee  ? 

My  blood  not  black  'tis ;  which  thou  fain  wouldst  see, 


R.  Tofte,  &c.~ 
I597-. 


Part  III. — L  a  u r  a. 


419 


XXXIII. 

S  sacrifice  unto  a  goddess  bright, 
My  heart  I  offered  with  devotion  great : 
Thinking   that   She,  Love's   Temple  had   been 
right. 

But  what,  un'wares,  I  spied  not  then,  in  heat, 
I,  wary,  now  discern  her  for  to  be : 
Of  hell  below,  the  rightest  cruelty. 
I  was  deceived,  I  do  confess.     That  smile, 
That  wanton  smile,  that  bred  in  me  delight, 
Hid  in  those  lips  so  fair,  did  me  beguile. 
O  beauty  false  !     O  cruelty  most  right ! 

Flee,  flee  my  heart!  flee  then,  if  thou  be  wise, 
Thy  hurt !  my  burning  heat,  her  treacheries ! 


XXXIV. 


TRANGE  is  this  thing !     My  horse  I  cannot  make 
With  spur,  with  speech,  nor  yet  with  rod  in  hand, 
Force  him  to  go ;  although  great  pains  I  take. 
Do  what  I  can  ;  he  still,  as  tired,  doth  stand. 
No  doubt  he  feels  a  heavy  weight  of  me  ; 
Which  is  the  cause  he  standeth  still  as  stone : 
Nor  is  he  'ware  that  now  he  carrieth  three ; 
He  thinks,  poor  jade,  I  am  on  's  back  alone. 
But  three  we  are,  with  mine  own  self  I  prove : 
LAURA  is  in  my  heart ;  in  soul  is  LoVE. 

Pesaro. 


42o  L  a  ura.— Part  III.  [RTof'eiS 


1597. 


XXXV. 

Hen  I,  of  my  sweet  LAURA  leave  did  take ; 
Fair  Fano's  city,  for  a  while  to  leave  : 
She  gave  to  me,  to  wear  it  for  her  sake, 
Of  gold  and  pearl  a  dainty  woven  wreath. 
Dear  was  the  gift ;  because  for  love  it  came  : 
But  dearer  more ;  'cause  She  gave  me  the  same. 
I  look  on  't  still,  and  kiss  it  as  my  joy ; 
Kissing  and  bussing  it,  with  it  I  play : 
Which,  at  one  instant,  brings  me  mirth  and  'noy ; 
And  sighing  oft  thus  to  myself  I  say  : 

"  White  pearls  are  these ;  yet  hath  her  mouth  more  fair 
Fine  gold  is  this  ;  yet  finer  is  her  hairl" 

Fano. 


XXXVI. 

jIth  thousand  bands  of  furious  inward  heat, 
Love  binds  my  soul ;  and  burns  my  gentle  heart 
And,  two  ways,  LAURA,  death  to  me  doth  threat 
With  Colour  fresh ;  and  wanton  Eye,  like  dart. 
This  for  reward  for  all  my  love  I  gain. 
For  my  goodwill,  two  enemies  I  have  : 
Laura  and  Love.     Four  plagues  conspire  my  pain, 
Because  I  like  ;  and  what 's  but  just,  do  crave : 
Fire,  roseal  Colour,  Eyes,  and  cruel  Band. 
These,  at  the  gaze  of  Beauty,  make  me  stand, 


R.  Tofte,  &c.T 
J597-J 


Part  1 1 1 . — L  aura. 


421 


XXXVII. 


F  scalding  sighs,  my  faith  may  testify ; 
And  brinish  tears,  of  love  may  warrant  be : 
Both  th'  one  and  th'  other  thou  hast  seen  with  eye ! 
Then  what  wouldst  have,  hard  hearted  !  more  of 
me? 
But  thou,  perhaps,  though  much  I  have  endured, 
Wouldst  yet  be  better  of  my  faith  assured. 
Then  with  thine  eyes,  into  my  breast  do  peer ! 
Which,  for  the  nonce,  I  leave  to  open  sight ; 
And  that  which  now  thou  doubt'st,  see  shalt  thou  clear. 
Ah,  mark  it  then  ;  and  view  what  shows  so  bright ! 
But  too  too  cruel  art  thou,  and  precise ; 
That  will  not  credit  give  to  thine  own  eyes ! 


XXXVIII. 

He  hapless  ARGUS,  happy  in  this  same, 
The  glory  of  the  sun's  surpassing  light ; 
The  brightness  of  the  stars,  the  fire  which  stain 
With  hundred  eyes,  behold  them  always  might. 
But  I,  alas,  who  have  but  only  twain, 
Cannot  behold  the  beauty  of  my  Sun ! 
For  which  I  live  as  blind,  in  endless  pain  ; 
And  count  myself,  for  want  thereof,  undone. 
I  can  but  wish  that  I  an  ARGUS  were ! 
With  hundred  eyes  to  view  her  everywhere. 


422 


La  u  r  a.  —Part  III. 


R.  Tofte,  it. 
'597- 


XXXIX. 

N  vasty  sea,  fain  would  my  slender  Muse 
Wade  in  thy  praise !  to  praise  thy  beauty  right 
But,  Lady,  I  for  pardon  crave  excuse. 
To  break  such  waves,  too  brittle  is  her  might ! 
Meantime,  with  lowly  verse,  in  humble  show, 
Along  the  shallow  shore  I'll  wading  go. 
The  time  may  come,  perhaps  ere  it  be  long, 
That  this  my  Quill,  more  bold,  may  write  thy  praise : 
And  venture  for  to  sail  in  th'  ocean  strong ; 
Though  now,  on  gravelled  shore  it  fearful  stays. 
And  whereas  now,  to  dip  his  foot  he  fears  : 
He  then  shall  dive  himself  o'er  head  and  ears. 

Fane. 


XL. 


Hen  I  did  part,  my  soul  did  part  from  me  ; 
And  took  his  Farewell  of  thy  beauteous  ey'n  : 
But  now  that  I,  returned,  do  thee  see  ; 
He  is  returned,  and  lives  through  kindness  thine 
And  of  thee  looketh  for  a  Welcome  Home. 
I  then,  not  any  more,  to  sorrow  need  ; 
Now  I  am  come :  and  if  before,  alone, 
On  Shadow  then  ;  on  Substance  now  I  feed. 
So  if  my  parting  bitter  was  and  sad  : 
Sweet 's  my  return  to  thee,  and  passing  glad, 


IKfjI 

wfk 

423 


The  conclusion  of  the  last  Part. 

I  mantes,  when  he  saw  he  could  not  paint 
With  lively  colours,  to  his  lasting  fame, 
Such  works  he  took  in  hand ;  and  found 
too  faint 

His  cunning :  seeking  for  to  hide  the  same, 
He  over  them  a  subtil  Shadow  drew; 
So  that  his  faults,  or  none,  or  few,  could  view. 

So,  Lady,  I  finding  my  wit  too  weak, 
With  current  terms,  your  beauty  forth  to  blaze  ; 
And  that  to  arrive,  too  blunt  is  my  conceit, 
Unto  the  height  of  your  surmounting  praise  : 
With  silence  forced  am,  against  my  will, 
To  shadow  my  defect,  the  want  of  skill. 

Yet  do  I  hope,  the  Shadow  you'll  not  scorn  : 
Since  Princes,  in  their  stately  arbours  green, 
Account  of  shade,  as  trees  which  fruit  adorn  ; 
Because  from  heat  they  welcome  shelters  been. 

The  Shadow  shields,  'gainst  sun,  your  beauty  fair; 

Which  else  his  scorching  heat  would  much  impair. 

Then  though  a  Shadow  without  fruit  I  be ; 
And  scarce  yield  leaves  to  cover  this  my  bark : 
Accept  these  leaves,  thy  Beauty's  Shade,  of  me ! 
Where  wealth  doth  ebb,  goodwill  doth   flow  from 
heart. 

Deign  me,  for  all  my  love,  but  Shadow  thine ! 
Thy  Substance  's  too  too  high  for  fortune  mine. 

R.  T. 


424 


A  Friend's  just  Excuse  about  the  Book 
and  \the~\  Author  ;  in  his  absence* 

Ithout  the  Author's  knowledge,  as  is  before 
said  by  the  Printer  [at  pp.  355,  356]  ;  this 
Poem  is  made  thus  publicly  known ;  which, 
with  my  best  endeavour,  the  Gentleman 
himself,  suspecting  what  is  now  proved  too  true,  at  my 
coming  up,  earnestly  intreated  me  to  prevent.  But 
I  came  at  the  last  sheet's  printing ;  and  find  more 
than  thirty  Sonnets  not  his,  intermixt  with  his. 
Helped  it  cannot  be,  but  by  the  well  judging  Reader  : 
who  will,  with  less  pain  distinguish  between  them, 
than  I,  on  this  sudden,  possibly  can.  To  him  then, 
I  refer  that  labour. 

And  for  the  Printer's  faults  passed  in  some  of  the 
Books  ;  I  have  gathered  them  in  the  next  page.* 

With  the  Author,  bear,  I  pray  ye !  whom  I  must 
intreat  to  bear  with  me. 

R.  B. 

*  These  four  Corrections  have  been  embodied  in  the  text. 


INDEX   OF    PROPER    NAMES1 


Abydos,  ii.  337. 

Acheron,  river,  i.  268. 

Acheson,  Mr.  Arthur,  lxxxi  «. 

Achilles,  i.  262  ;  ii.  337. 

Acteon,     i.    159,     240,     301 ;     ii.     160, 

Adonis,  ciii  n.   1 ;    i.   238,   297 ;  ii.   266, 

292,  388,  398. 
Aeneas,  ii.  77. 
Aeneas  Sylvius,  xxxix  n. 
Aeol[us],  i.  62  ;  ii.  310. 
Aesop,  i.  6,  10. 
Aethiops,  ii.  25. 
Aetna  (Etna),  i.  137,   143,  213,  247 ;  ii. 

3.  327.  331- 
Afric[a],  i.  213  ;  ii.  316. 
Aganippe,  i.  48. 
Ajax,  ii.  355. 

Alamanni,  Luigi,  xx,  xxix,  xxxi. 
Albion,  i.  124 ;  ii.  131,  197. 
Alcest[is],  ii.  146. 
Alchermyan  dye,  ii.  166, 
Alcidalyon,  i.  141. 
Alcidelian  springs,  ii.  163. 
Alcides,  i.  238 ;  ii.  337. 
Alexander,  ii.  114. 
Alexander,  Sir  William,  cv. 
Alpheus,  ii.  145. 
Amaranthus,  ii.  340. 
Amazons,  i.  104. 
America,  i.  197. 

Aminia,  xxxvw.,  xxxix,  liv ;  ii.  330. 
Amor,  ii.  23. 

Amoretti,  xcii  and  «.,  xcv-xcix. 
Amorous  Zodiac,  lxxx,  lxxxi  «. 
L' Amour  Fugitif,  Marot's,   lxxviii,  and 

n.  1. 
Amours,  Ronsard's,  xlv  n.  1,  li,  lx  n.  1, 

lxii  and  «.,  Ixvii-lxx,  lxii  rt.  i,  lxxxiv, 

lxxxix,  xcv,  xcvi-xcviii. 

Les,  Bellay's,  xxvi  rt.  2. 

de  Cassandre,  xxiv. 

de  CUonice,  lvii. 

de  Diane,  xlv    n.  2,   lvi    ff.,   lxxii, 


Amours  d '  Hippolyte,  lvi. 

four  Astrie,  xxiv. 

pour    Hiline,    xxiv,    xci,    xcvi    rt., 

xcviii. 
Amphion,  i.  45,  69 ;  ii.  165. 
Amphitrite,  i.  210. 
Amyntas,  ii.  332,  337. 
Anacreon,  xvii,  xxiii,  xxiv,  1,  xcii  n. 
Angerianus,   Hieronymus,  lxxvii,  lxxxiii 

«.  2,  c  rt.  1. 
Ankor,  river,  Ixxxvii  rt.  1 ;  ii.  197,  207. 
Antarctic,  i.  295. 
Antipodes,  i.  224;  ii.  85. 
Antiquitis  de  Rome,  xxxv. 
Apelles,  ii.  401. 
Aphrodice,  ii.  315. 
Apollo  (Appollo),  lxx,   lxxxiv  and  n.  2, 

lxxxv  ;  i.  7,  120,  160,  234,  277;  ii.  18, 

60,  155,  191,  200,  292,  326. 
Apollonius  Rhodius,  xxxix  rt. 
Apologie  for  Poetrie,  Sidney's,  xliv  rt.  1, 

lv  rt.,  cii. 
Aquarius  (Zodiac).     Cf.   Water-man,   ii. 

368. 
Arabia,  ii.  336.     Cf.  1.  94,  197,  230,  305. 
Arachne,  ii.  302. 
Arcadia,  Sidney's,  xlii  n.  1,  xliv  n.  2, 

lxxvi ;  i.  29,  88.     Sannazaro's,  xxxv  «. 
Arcadia,  i.  275;  ii.  302. 
Archer,  the  (Zodiac),  i.  191. 
Arctic,  i.  223,  295. 
Arden,  Ixxxvii  n.  ;  ii.  197,  207. 
Argus,  i.  7,  87 ;  ii.  421. 
Ariadne,  ii.  169. 

Aries  (Zodiac),  lxxx  ft.     Cf.  Ram. 
Arion,  ii.  169,  235,  360. 
Ariosto,  xix  and  «.,  xxv  rt.,  xxix  «..  xxxv 

*.,  lii,  lxvi,  lxxiii  and  «.,  lxxiv,  en. 
Ariosto,  translation  of,  by  Sir  John  Har- 

ington,  ii.  27. 
Aristotle,  lxiv  n. ,  lxxxix  n.  \\  I.  43. 
Aristoxinus,  i.  305. 
Arte  of  English  Poesie,  li  and  n.  1. 
Arthur,  King,  i.  205. 
Asia,  ii.  40. 


lxxix,  xci  ft.  1,  xcvii-xcix,  ciii  n 

1  The  small  Roman  numbers  refer  to  the  text  of  the  Introduction  in  Volume  1 


426 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Assyrian  hunter,  i.  238. 
Astrea  (Astraea),  ii.  169,  200.     Astree,  1. 
Astrolabe,  Treatise  of  the,  lxxx  w. 
Astrophel,  lxxvii  «. ,  ci ;  i.   1-88  passim, 

224,  273.     Cf.  ii.  155. 
Astrophel  and  Stella,  Sidney's,  xxxiii«.  2, 

xxxvii,  xxxviii,  xlii,  xlv,  xlviii,  li,  Hi,  lxii, 

Ixxvi,  xcix ;  i.  1-88. 
Atalanta,  i.  253  ;  ii.  255. 
Atlas,  i.  36,  49,  251,  252  ;  ii.  4,  60,  175. 
Ate,  ii.  200. 
Atis,  i.  285. 
Augustine,  St.,  Ixiv  ». 
Aurora,  lxviii ;  i.  29,  49,  60,  94,  218,  224, 

231,  288;  ii.  284,  288,  328,  377. 
Aurora,  Sir  William  Alexander's,  civ. 
Ausonius,  lxiv  n. 
Avernus,  i.  104. 
Avon,  river,  lx,  lxxxvii  n.  ;  ii.  134,  197. 

B.,  R.,  civ;  ii.  355,  424, 

Bacchus,  i.  180,  199,  277,  298. 

Baif,  Jean  Antoine  de,  xxv,  xxviii  n. ,  lviii 

«.,  lix  n.,  lxxviii  and  n.  2,  xcii  n.,  xcv. 
Bandello,  Matteo,  cii. 
Barley,  William,  i.  137. 
Barnes,   Barnabe,  i,  xi,  Ixxv-lxxx,  c,  ci, 

cviii ;  i.  165,  316  ff.  ;  ii.  146,  151,  304. 
Barnfield,  Richard,  cii  ft.  1. 
Bnrtas,  Guillaume  de  Saluste  du,  xxxv  «., 

lxiv  n. 
Battus,  ii.  361. 
Bedlam,  ii.  185. 
Bellay,  Joachim  du,  xxii,  xxiii  and  n.  1, 

xxvi  nn.  1  and  2,  xxxv  it. ,  xxxvi,  liii  and 

n.  1,  liv,  lxiii  n.,  lxxxviii,  xcii,  xcviii. 
Belleau,  Remy,  xxiii. 
Bembo,  Pietro,  xix,  xxv,   xxxv  «.,  lxviii 

n.  1. 
Berkshire],  ii.  263. 
Berenice,  ii.  315. 
Berycinth,  i.  286. 

Beze,  Theodore  de,  lxxviii  n.  3,  ciii  n.  3. 
Bianciardi,  lxv. 
Billy,  Jacques  de,  cix. 
Bolle,  Wilhelm,  xl  n.  1. 
Bollifant,  Edmund,  ii.  321. 
Bon  Accords,  Le  Seigneur  des,  xxxv  n. 
Bonnefons,  Jean,  xlv  n.  1,  lxxxiii,  lxxxiv 

n.  1. 
Boreas,  i.  210;  ii.  306,  311,  392. 
Boyle,  Elizabeth,  xciii. 
Brach,  Pierre  de,  lviii  n.  1. 
Breton,  Nicholas,  cvi  n. 
Britwell,  1  «.,  lxi  n.  3,  ciii  n.  1 ;  i.  137. 
Bruertons,  i.  123. 
Bryskett,  Lodnwick,  xciii  ;  ii.  223. 
Bull  (Zodiac),  i.  194. 


Bullen,  Mr.  A.  H.,  Ixxi  n.,  cvi  n. 
Busbie,  or  Busby,  John,  ii.  1,  153. 
Buttet,  Claude  de,  xxxv  n. 
Byrd,  William,  xxxiii  n.  2. 

C,  E. ,  cv  n.  1. 

C<rlica,  cv. 

Caesar,  i.  43,  195,  209,  240 ;  ii.  94,  275. 

Calisto,  i.  207. 

Calliope,  i.  199  ;  ii.  169,  324. 

Calvin,  Jean,  ii.  27. 

Cambridge,  ii.  27. 

Cancer  (Zodiac),  i.  188,  249,  304  ;  ii.  368. 

Capell,  1  n. 

Capilupi,  Lelio,  xxxv  n. 

Caril,  E.,  ii.  357. 

Carlegion  Chester,  ii.  197. 

Carpenter,  Mr.  F.  I.,  xl  n.  1. 

Carthage,  i.  120. 

Cassandra,  1,  lxxi. 

Castalia,  i.  8. 

Cato,  i.  13. 

Catullus,  xvii ;  i.  117. 

Caucasus,  i.  213 ;  ii.  100. 

Ceres,  lxx,  lxxxiv,  lxxxv  ;  i.  296 ;  ii.  18, 

60. 
Cestos,  ii.  333,  337. 
Chaos,  ii.  159. 

Chapman,  George,  lxxx,  lxxxi  n.,  cvi. 
Charbid',  i.  247. 
Charites,  ii.  78,  169. 
Charlemagne,  i.  205,  295. 
Charon,  ii.  55. 

Chaucer,  ix,  xxviii  and  >/.,  lxxx  ?i.  ;  i.  120. 
Chester,  ii.  197. 
Chloris,    xi,    ciii   and   n.  3;    ii.    321-350 

passim. 
Christie-Miller,  Mrs.,  lxi  n.  3;  i.  137. 
Churchyard.  Thomas,  lxxvii. 
Cicero,  lxiv  n. 
Circe,  ii.  294,  306,  378. 
Claudianus,  Lxiv  n. ,  xci  n. 
Cleonice,  Desportes',  lvii. 
Clerk's  Tale,  xxviii. 
Clio,  lxx,  lxxxiv,  lxxxv  ;  i.  199 ;  ii.  18. 
Clytie,  i.  204. 
Cnidos,  ii.  143. 
Ccelia,  xi,  c;  i.  200;  ii.  137-151  passim, 

3°4- 
Colchos,  ii.  342. 
Colin  [i.e.  Edmund  Spenser],  lxvi ;  i.  275; 

ii.  216.     Colin  Clout,  ii.  323. 
Collier,  J.  P.,  lxxxvi  n. 
Colomesii  Opuscula,  lxxxiv  n.  1. 
Colonna,  Giacomo,  xvi  ?i. ,  cix. 
Constable,     Henry,    x,    lxi-lxiii     cviii; 

ii.  74  ff. 
Contarini,  F.,  xxxv  n. 


Index  of  Proper  Names 


427 


Conversi,  Geronimo,  xl  n.  2. 

Cook,  A.  S.,  xliv  n.  1. 

Cooke,  Anthony,  lxxxvii,  cvi. 

Coquinato,  S.  Carlo,  xxxv  n. 

Corin,  ii.  325  sqq.  passim. 

Cornish  diamonds,  i.  9. 

Corser,  Thomas,  1  n. 

Cotswold,  ii.  197. 

Courthope,  Mr.  VV.  J.,  xix  n.  2. 

Cupid,  xvii,  lxxviii,  lxxxiv,  xcii ;  i.  13,  15, 
19,  20,  32,  37,  38,  41,  47,  50,  51,  66, 
72,  107,  no,  119,  139,  141,  164,  177, 
191,  193,  205,  208,  209,  233,  234,  237, 
238,  246,  268,  273,  293,  297,  298,  299, 
300,  312 ;  ii.  20,  36,  37,  38,  44,  45,  54 , 
60,  148,  150,  163,  165,  199,  205,  246, 
283.  293,  306,  314,  343,  366,  373,  417. 

Cybele,  i.  238. 

Cyclops  (Ciclops),  i.  140  ;  ii.  63,  64. 

Cynthia  (Cinthia),  i.  95,  160,  162,  250, 
290,  316 ;  ii.  1,  56. 

Cyprus  (Cypria),  i.  105,  233 ;  ii.  142,  147. 

Cytherea,  ciii  n.  1 ;  i.  141 ;  ii.  303. 

Cytherea's  son,  i.  94. 


Damon,  ii.  3,  8,  9,  15. 

Danae,  1.  252. 

Daniel,  Samuel,  x,  xlii  n.  1,  xlvii,  xlviii, 

lii-lx,  lxvi,  ci,  ciii ;  i.  88  ff.  ;  ii.  115. 
Danish  blood,  ii.  197. 
Dante,  xiii,  xiv,  xv,  xxix  «.  1. 
Daphne,  ii.  230,  328. 
Davies,  Sir  John,  cvi,  cvii. 
Dee,  river,  ii.  197. 
Defense    et    illustration    de    la    langue 

Franfaise,  xxiii  nn, 
Delia,  Daniel's,  lii,  liii  and  ».  2,  liv  and 

n.  2,  Ixi ;  i.  88,  90,  92,  93,  94,  96,  100  ; 

ii.   115-136  passim.     Delian  sonnetry, 

ci ;  ii.  155. 
Delia  and  Rosamond  augmented,  liii  n.  1. 
Dt'lie  of  Maurice  Seve,  liv  n.  2. 
Delos,  ii.  155,  170. 
Demosthenes,  lxiv  n. 
Desportes,  Philippe,  xxv,xxvi,xxvii,xxxiv, 

xlii  n.,  xlv  n.  2,  lii,  lv-lviii,  lxvi,  lxxi, 

lxxii  and  ».,  lxxviii  n.  3,  lxxix,  lxxxviii 

and   n.    1,    xci    and  n.    1,    xcv-xcviii, 

ciii  «.  2. 
Devere  (Dever),  Edward,  Earl  of  Oxford, 

1. 
Devereux,  Penelope  (  =  Stella),  xliii  n. 
Robert,  second  Earl  of  Essex,  xliii 

n.  ;  i.  314  ;  ii.  206. 

Walter,  first  Earl  of  Essex,  xliii  n. 

Devonshire,  Duke  of,  lxxvi  n.  3  ;  ii.  164. 
Dian[a],  lxxxii,  lxxxiv  ;  i.  47,  59,  75,  103, 


159,  180,  207,  211,  282.  292;  ii.  32,  34, 

49,  118,  293,  329,  372. 
Diana    (Diane),    Constable's,     lii,    lxi- 

lxiii ;     i.    109,    no,    114;    ii.    75-144 

passim.     Desportes',  xlii  «.,  xlv  n.  2, 

lvi,  lxvi.     Montemayor's,  xxxv  n. ,  xliv 

n.  2;  i.  131.    Mistress  of  Sireno,  i.  131. 

Soothern's,  1. 
Dido,  ii.  337. 

Diego  and  Ginevra,  cii.    Cf.  ii.  297,  299. 
Die/la,  xi,  cii ;  i.  200  ;  ii.  297-320/, 
Discours  Phitosophiques,  lxxx  n. 
Dolce,  Lodovico,  xx,  lxv,  lxxiii. 
Doric  melodies,  ii.  312. 
Doris  (sea  nymph),  ii.  63. 
Dove,  river,  ii.  197. 
Drayton,   Michael,  xxxiii,   lxxxv-xci,  ci, 

ciii ;  ii.  179  ff. 
Drummond,  William,  of  Hawthornden, 

xxxv  n.,  ci,  cv,  cviii. 
Drvades,  ii.  325. 
Durant,  Gilles,  xlv  //.   1,  lxxx,  lxxxi  n., 

lxxxiv  and  n.  1. 
Dutch,  i.  26  ;  ii.  206. 
D[yer],  [Sir]  E[dward],  Sonnet  by,  i.  118. 

Echo  (Eccho),  i.  148,  149,  220-221,  272 
276,  301-304 ;  ii.  65,  99,  100,  136,  148, 

337- 
Edmonds,  Mr.  Charles,  cv  ».  1. 
Edward  the  Fourth,  i.  48. 
Egean  (sea),  ii.  360. 
Egypt,  i.  197,  230. 
Elizabeth,  ii.  253.    Cf.  Eliza,  i.  275,  282; 

Elizium,  ii.  200  ;  Elizon,  ii.  112. 
Elstred,  ii.  1. 

Elysian  (Elizian),  i.  247.  275. 
Emaricdul/e,  cv  and  n.  1. 
Empedocus,  Sextius,  i.  9. 
Endymion  (Endymyon),  i.  162  ;  ii.  10. 
Erato,  i.  199. 
Erebus,  ii.  150,  159. 
Erinnys  (Erinnyes),  ii.  200,  340. 
Erreurs  Amoureuses,  Les,  xxxv  11. ,  lxxii 

n.,  xcix. 
Erymanthian  Bear,  i.  250. 
Essex,    Robert,   Earl  of,  see  Devereux, 

Master   William,  of  Lameboume,  ii. 

263. 
Etna,  see  Aetna. 
Euphemie,  ii.  157. 
Euphrates,  ii.  106. 
Europa,  i.  207. 
Euterpe,  i.  199. 

Faery    Queen,    xlviii,    xlix,     xcii,    x.  iii  ; 

ii.  256. 
Fano,  civ;  ii.  415,  420,  .122. 


428 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Fates,  ii.  39,  200. 

Fauns,  ii.  327. 

Ferabosco,  Alfonso,  xl  n.  1. 

Feronia,  ii.  311. 

Fidessa,  lix,  cii-ciii ;  ii.  261  sqq. 

Firenzuola,  Agnolo,  xxxix  n. 

Fitton,  Edward,  cv  n.  1. 

Flamini,  Francesco,  xxv  n. 

Fleece,  Golden,  i.  195 ;  ii.  342. 

Fletcher,  Giles  (father),  lxxxi-lxxxv,  en.  1; 

(son),  lxxxi  n.   John,  Ixxxi  n. ;  Phineas, 

lxxxi  n. 
Flora,  i.  224,  270,  271,  273,  278,  283,  284, 

286,  287,  296  ;  ii.  136,  161,  162,  306. 
Florence  (Fiorenza),  civ;  ii.  396. 
Florio,  xix  ».  1. 
Flower,  Francis,  xlii  n.  1. 
Forcadel,  Etienne  (Forcatulus),  xxxix  n. 
Fortune,  ii.  90. 

Fouquieres,  Becq  de,  xxviii  n. 
France,   i.  26,    31 ;    borrowed    conceits 

from,  ii.  30. 
Francine,  xxv. 

Francis,  Saint,  lxiii  and  n.  1 ;  ii.  88. 
Furies,  i.  309,  310,  311,  312  ;  ii.  200. 

Galatea,  ii.  63,  169. 

Galen,  i.  62. 

Ganymede,  i.  17. 

Gascoigne,  George,  xxxviii  n.  2,  xlvii. 

Gemini  (Zodiac),  lxxx  n.     Cf.  Twins. 

Gentiles,  ii.  370. 

German  broils,  i.  205. 

Glemnham,  Lady  Anne,  cii ;  ii.  299. 

Sir  Henry,  cii ;  ii.  299. 

Gnosian  crown,  ii.  169. 

Goat  (Zodiac),  i.  191. 

Gobbi,  Agostino,  xxi  «.,  lxxiv. 

Godfrey,  i.  205. 

Golden  Fleece,  i.  195  ;  ii.  342. 

Googe,  Barnabe,  xxxiii  n.  2. 

Gorgon,  ci ;  ii,  147,  329. 

Graces,  lxxxiv  n.  2  ;  i.  208,  211,  212;  ii. 

94,  106,  284. 
Gravesend,  i.  8. 
Greece,  i.  15,  119,  195;  ii.  238,  342.    Cf. 

i.  205 ;  ii.  391. 
Greek  Anthology,  xiii  n.  1,  lix  n. 
Greg,  Mr.  W.  W.,  In. 
Grggoire  de  Naziane,  xci  «. 
Greville,  Sir  Fulke,  cv. 
Gr6vin,  Jacques,  xxviii  n. 
Griffin,    Bartholomew,  xi,  cii-ciii  n.   1; 

ii.  261  ff. 
Groto,  Luigi  (Cieco),  xxxv  n. 
Gruter,  xxi  n. 

Guarini,  Battista,  xx,  xxxv  n. 
Gyneura,  ii.  297,  299. 


H.,  W.,  xlii*  1. 

Haemonia  cuspis,  ii.  153. 

Handcfull  of  Pleasant  Delites,  xxxiii  n. 
2. 

Hannibal,  i.  120. 

Harington,  Sir  John,  his  Ariosto,  ii.  27. 

Hartwell,  Master,  i.  165. 

Harvey,  Gabriel,  xxxviii  «.  2,  xciv  and 
n.  1,  cvi. 

Hebe,  lxx  ;  ii.  12,  404. 

Heber,  Richard,  1  n. 

Hecate,  i.  309,  310;  ii.  199,  200. 

Hecatompathia  {''EKaTo/xwadia,  or  Pas- 
sionate Centurie  of  Love),  xxxiii  n.  2, 
xxxvii  and  «.,  xliii,  lxxxiii  n.  2;  xc, 
ciii. 

Helen[a]  of  Sparta,  i.  27  ;  ii.  146. 

Helice,  ii.  233. 

Helicon,  lxxxvii  n.  ;  ii.  207,  217. 

Hellespont,  ii.  161,  333. 

Henry  11.  of  France,  1. 

Hercules,  i.  36  ;  ii.  255. 

Hermes,  i.  7,  286 ;  ii.  155,  215,  292. 

Hermonius,  i.  94. 

Hero,  i.  195 ;  ii.  161,  333. 

Hesiod,  lix  n. 

Hesper,  ii.  343. 

Hesperides,  apples  of,  ii.  312.  Cf.  i.  52  ; 
ii.  101. 

Holland,  i.  26. 

Homer,  xxiii,  lix  n.  ;  i.  8 ;  ii.  22. 

Horace,  xvii,  xxiv,  xxxix  ».,  lv  n. ,  lxiv 
n. ;  i.  116. 

Houghton,  Master,  ii.  32. 

Howard,  Henry,  Lord.     See  Surrey. 

Hydra,  i.  98. 

Hymen,  ii.  340. 

Hyperion,  ii.  161,  174,309. 

Hyrcan  tigers,  i.  94. 

IDA  (vale),  ii.  40. 

Idaean  Shepherd,  i.  253. 

Idalea,  ii.  310,  315. 

Ide  (mount),  ii.  328. 

Idea  {Idea's  Mirrour),  lii,  liii,  lx,  lxxxvi 

and  ».,   xci,  ci,   ciii,    cvi;  i.  92,    199, 

233  ;  ii.   164,  169,  179-212  passim,  239, 

260,  339. 
LIdie,  xlvi,  lviii  ».,  lxxiii  n.,  lxxxiv  n. 

2,  lxxxv  and  ».,  lxxxviii-xc. 
Idillies  et  Pastoralles,  lxvii  and  n.  2. 
Iliads,  ii.  128. 
Ilion,  ii.  337.     Cf.  Troy. 
India  (Ind,  Indes),  xevi ;  i.  27;  ii.  166. 

224,  362.     Cf.  i.  157,  197,  213;  ii.  7. 
Io,  i.  7,  238. 
iDhis,  ii.  145. 
Iris,  ii.  392. 


Index  of  Proper  Names 


429 


Irish  isle,  ii.  193. 

Isis,  river,  ii.  7,  197. 

Islip,  Adam,  ii.  137. 

Italian  Madrigals  Englished,  xl,  lxviii. 

Italy,  ii.  30,  131. 

Itis,  ii.  342. 

Ixion,  ii.  201,  314,  400. 

Janus,  ii.  218. 

Japhet,  i,  233. 

Jason,  i.  195 ;  ii.  342. 

Joan,  i.  108. 

Joculus,  i.  205. 

Jodelle,  Estienne,  xxxv  n. 

Jonson,  Ben,  lxxxiv  n.  1,  cviii. 

Jove  (Jupiter),  lxxxiv  n.  2  ;  i.  8,  14,  17, 

46,  116,  117,  139,   179,  180,   183,  185. 

199,  215,  228,  238,  252,  285  ;  ii,  36,  40, 

41,  45,  49,  63,  64,  94,  102,  207,  292, 

302,  329,  337,  347,  364. 
Juno,  lxxxiv  n.  2 ;  i.  196,  212,  234,  235, 

238,  278  ;  ii.  40,  365,  388. 
Juvenal,  xxxi,  lxiv  n. 

Kalends,  ii.  130. 
Kent,  ii.  197. 

L.,  N.,  ii.  153. 

Lais,  ii.  157. 

Lamebourne,  ii.  263. 

Laura,  mistress  of  Robert  Tofte,  xi,  civ  ; 
ii.  351-424,  j>assim.  Petrarch's  mis- 
tress, xv,  xvi,  xxxviii,  xliii  «.,  lxiii, 
lxxvii ;  ii.  126,  195,  207. 

La  Voltas,  i.  202. 

Laya,  i.  170,  171,  283 ;  ii.  151. 

Lea,  river,  ii.  197. 

Leander,  ii.  128,  161,  271,  333,  337. 

Leda's  twins,  ii.  161. 

Lee,  Master,  ii.  32. 

Lemnos  isle,  i.  293. 

Lethe,  river,  ii.  7,  150,  343. 

Leucadian  god,  i.  247. 

Leucothea,  ii.  309. 

Leucothoe,  i.  278. 

Libra  (Zodiac),  i.  190. 

Licia,  lxxxii-lxxxv  ;  ii.  23-74. 

L[inche],  R[ichard],  cii ;  ii.  297. 

Lion  (Zodiac),  i.  189. 

Locke,  Henry,  cviii. 

Lodge,  Thomas,  x,  lxiv-lxxv,  lxxxiv  and 
n.  2,  lxxxv,  ci  ;  Phillis,  ii.  1-22. 

Lodwick.     See  Bryskett. 

London,  ii.  359. 

Longbeard,  William,  The  Life  and  Death 
of,  lxv. 

Louis,  i.  48. 


Love,  the  god,    i.    12  and  passim.     Set 

Cupid. 
Love's  Labour's  Lost,  cvii. 
Lownes,  Matthew,  xlii  n.  1 ;  ii.  261. 
Lucan,  xxxix  ».,  lxiv  n. 
Lucian,  lxxviii  n.,  lxxxii  ;  ii.  63. 
Lucifer,  i.  7 ;  ii.  286,  288. 
Lucy  [Percy],  Lady,  ii.  353. 
Luna,  ii.  347. 
Lybia,  ii.  312. 
Lycaonia,  L.  250. 
Lynceus,  ii.  312. 
Lyrics    from      Elizabethan     Romances, 

lxxi  n. 

Macedonian  monarch,  ii.  379. 

Maecenas,  lxxxvii,  cix. 

Magny,  Olivier  de,  xxxv  n. ,  lxxix,  xcii  n. 

Mahomet,  ii.  92. 

Manilius,  lxiv  n. 

Manners,  Lady  Bridget,  i.  316. 

Mantua,  civ  ;  ii.  417,  420. 

Mantuanus,  Baptista,  xxxix  ».,  lxiv  n. 

Marenzio,  Luca,  xl  and  n.  2. 

Margarite  of  America,  lxv,  lxvi. 

Marie,  lx  «. 

Marino,  xxxv  n. ,  liii. 

Marot,  Clement,  xiii,  xxii  and  >/.,  xxix, 

xxxv  n. ,  xxxvi,  lxxviii  and  n.  1. 
Marquets,  Anne  de,  cix  n. 
Mars,  lxx;  i.  17,  19,  37,  49,  71,  187,  209, 

215,  293;   ii.    18,   131,  205,  246,  247, 

260,  303,  343.  347- 
Martelli,  Vincenzo,  lxv,  lxxiii. 
Martial,  xxii,  xxxix,  lxiv  n. 
Mary,  the  Virgin,  i.  276,  277. 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  xxxiv  n. 
Massicum  (nectar),  ii.  25. 
Maya,  i.  288. 
Meander,  ii.  155,  365. 
Mecca,  ii.  92. 

Medea,  lxxxviii  n.  3  ;  ii.  203. 
Medusa,  hi,  lxxxviii  n,  3  ;  i.  91,  145.  209, 

210. 
Medway,  river,  ii.  197. 
Meleagcr,  xvii,  lix  n. 
Meline,  xxv. 
Melpomene,  i.  5,  199, 
Memnon,  ii.  7,  58. 
Mercury,  i.  7,  180,  190;  ii.  47,  347.     Cf. 

also  Hermes. 
Meres,  Francis,  xlvi  n. 
Midases,  i.  5. 
Milton,  John,  xlix  w. 
Minerva,  lxxxii,  xc ;  i.  8,  180;  ri.  32,  40, 

58,  168,  200. 
Minto,  Professor,  lxxiw 
Mirrha,  ii.  9. 


430 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Mnemosyne  (Mnemosine),  i.  199 ;  ii.  156. 
Mollineux,  Lady,  lxxxi ;  ii.  26,  32,  54. 
Sir  Richard,  Kt.,  lxxxi;  ii.  26,  28, 

32- 
Molza,  Francesco,  xxv.  n. 
Montanus,  lxv. 

Montemayor,  Jorge  de,  xxxv  ;  i.  131,  133. 
Moors,  i.  213,  223. 
Morley,  Thomas,  xl  n.  2. 
Morpheus,  i.  27  ;  ii.  318,  331. 
Moschus,  xvii,  lxxvi,  Ixxviii  ;  i.  263. 
Murray,  Sir  David,  of  Gorthy,  c  n.  1. 
Musaeus,  lxxvii ;  i.  195. 
Muscovy,  i.  9,  12,  26. 
Muses,  i.  51,  208,  264 ;  ii.  19,  23,  35,  106, 

200,  263,  317,  345. 
Musica  Transalpina,  xl  n.  2. 
Mutius,  ii.  369. 
Mysus,  ii.  153. 

Naiads,  i.  185. 

Naples  (Napoli),  lxxvii ;   ii.  403 ;    song 

of,  i.  129,  130. 
Narcissus  (Narcisse),  lxx ;  i.  91,  238,  278  ; 

ii.  18,  98,  148,  234. 
Nashe,  Thomas,  xxxiii  «.   2,    xlii  n.    1, 

lv  ».,  lxxi ;  i.  5-10. 
Nassau,  Wilhemus  van,  i.  125. 
Needham,  Sir  Robert,  Kt. ,  ii.  215. 
Nemesis,  ii.  337. 
Nepenthe,  ii.  159. 
Neptune,  i.  210;  ii.  49,  63,  64,  94,  131, 

315- 
Nero,  ii.  405. 
Nestor,  i.  28,  295. 
Newman,   Thomas,   xlii   and  n.,   lii ;    i. 

1,  2,  4. 
Nile,  river,  ii.  316,  329. 
Niobe,  lxxxviii  «.  3 ;  i.  197  ,  ii.  57. 
Norry,  Milles  de,  Ixxix  ft. 
Northumberland,  Henry  [Percy],  Earl  of, 

i-  313  !  •'•  353- 
Nymphs,  i.  202. 

Oebalia,  i.  238. 

L'Olimpe,  xxviii  n. 

Olive,  xxiv,  lxiii  n. 

Olney,  Henry,  cii ;  ii.  297,  299. 

Olympus  (Olimpus),  i.  141 ;  ii.  302. 

Opera  dAmore,  Tebaldeo's,  xlv  n.  2. 

Ops,  i.  187 ;  ii.  147. 

Oicades,  ii.  193. 

Orient,  i.  94. 

Orlando,  Ariosto's,  xxxv  n. 

Orpheus,  i.  7,  69,  199 ;  ii.  203,  238. 

Orwin,  the  widow,  ii.  153,  261. 

Ossa,  ii.  175. 

Othes,  ii.  286. 


Ouse,  river,  ii.  197. 

Ovid  (Naso),  xvii,  xxiii,  xxxix  «. ,  1,  lv  «., 

lxivw.,  lxvi,  lxxvii,  lxxxiii  n.  2,  lxxxiv 

n.  1,  ci  ;  i.  195;  ii.  155. 
Ovid's  Banquet  of  Sense,  lxxx. 
Oxford,  ii.  27 ;  Earl  of,  i.  107,  108. 


Pactolus,  river,  ii.  316. 

Padoa,  civ ;  ii.  359. 

Palatine  Anthology,  lxxxiii  n.  1. 

Pallas,  lxx,  lxxxiv  and  n.  2,  lxxxv ;  i.  8, 

187,  208,  282 ;  ii.  16,  18,  60,  yj,  355. 
Pan,  i.  5,  273,  280 ;  ii.  325,  328. 
Panchaian  incense,  i.  305. 
Pancharis,  La,  xlv  n.  I,  lxxxiv  n.  1. 
Pandora   (goddess),   lxix ;    ii.    60,    228 ; 

Soothern's,  xlix. 
Paphos,  i.  10,  94,  105,  139,  206  ;  ii.  163. 
Parabosco,  Girolamo,  xxxv  n.  1,  xxxix  n. 
Paradise,  i.  229  ;  ii.  106,  255,  364. 
Parcae,  ii.  400.     Cf.  Fates. 
Paris,   ii.   382;   (=Alexander),   i.  27;  ii. 

328. 
Parnassus,  xxxviii ;  i.  18,  51,  53  ;  ii.  325, 

347- 
Parthenophe,  lxxvii;    i.  165  sqq.  passim, 

197;  ii.  151. 
Parthenophil,    lxxvii     n.  ;    i.    165    sqq. 

passim ;  ii.  171. 
Parthenophil  and  Parthenophe,  lxxvi,  c  ; 

i.  165  sqq. 
Parthians,  ii.  395. 
Pascale,  Lodovico,  lxv,  lxxiii. 
Pasithaea,  ii.  169. 
Pasquier,  xxxv  n. 
Passerat,  xxxvw.  1. 
Passionate    Centurie.        See    Hecatorn- 

pathia. 
Passionate  Pilgrim,  The,  clii  n.  1. 
Pastor  Fido,  Guarini's,  xxxv  n. 
Paterno,  Lodovico,  xxxv  n. 
Paul's  Churchyard,  ii.  176. 
Paul's  Cross,  ii.  28. 
Pausanias,  lxiv«. 
Peak,  the,  ii.  197. 
Peers,  the  piper,  i.  287. 
Pegasus,  i.  224  ;  ii.  390. 
Pelion,  ii.  175. 
Pelops,  i.  300. 
Pembroke,  Mary,  Countess  of,  i.  8,  315 ; 

ii.  115. 
Penelope,  i.  195  ;  ii.  2s8. 
Percy,  Henry,  Earl  of  Northumberland, 

civ;  ii.  353;  Lady  Lucy,  civ;  ii.  353 

William,  lxxvi,  c;  i.  165  ;  ii.  137,  139. 
Perillus,  ii.  375. 
Perseus,  i.  252. 


Index  of  Proper  Names 


43i 


Persians,  ii.  45. 

Persius,  xxxi. 

Peruse,  Jean  de  la,  xxxv  n. 

Pervigilium  Veneris,  Ixxxiv  n.  1. 

Pesaro,  civ  ;  ii.  419. 

Petrarch,    xi-xviii,    xix-xli    passim,    xlii- 

xlviii,  xlix,  1,  liii-lv,  lvi  «.,  lix,  lx  «., 

lxiv  n. ,  lxvii  n.  1,  lxviii  n.  lxxvii,  lxxix, 

Ixxxvii  «.,  lxxxviii,    xciv,    xcv,    xcviii, 

xcix,  cviii-cx  ;  i.  18,  195;  ii.  126,  155. 
Pitrarquisme  ait  XVI*  Siecle,  xxiv  n. 
Petronius  Arbiter,  Ixxxiv  n.  1. 
Phaeton,  i.  187;  ii.  364. 
Phillis,  lxvi-lxx,  lxxii-lxxiv,  Ixxxiv- lxxxv, 

ci ;  ii.  1-22,  322. 
Philomela,  i.  in,  112;  ii.  326. 
Phlegethon,  river,  ii.  200. 
Phcebe,  lxx ;  i.   159,  180,  203,  208,211, 

212,  236,  243,  248,  292,  297,  309;  ii. 

18,  160,  174,  346. 
Phoebus,  xci  n. ;  i.  8,  17,  23,  59,  60,  65. 

180,  184,   185,  187,  191,  192,  215,  225, 

228,  231,  234,  238,  250,  297,  312,  315; 

ii.  1,  35,  42,   172,   219,  239,  288,  289, 

305-  3J7.  328-  329.  336,  346. 
Phcenix,   xc  ;  i.   7,   57,  101,   129;  ii.  42, 

189,  336. 
Phryne,  ii.  318. 
Pierce  Pe?inilesse,  lv  n. 
Pierces  Supererogation,  xciv  n.  1. 
Pieri,  Marius,  xxiv. 
Pindar,  xxiii,  xxiv,  1,  lv  «. ;  i.  12. 
Pisa,  civ  ;  ii.  382. 
Pisces  (Zodiac),  i.  192,  224. 
Plato,  lxxxviii,  lxxxix  n.  ;  i.  21. 
Plautus,  lxiv  n. 
Pleiade,  La,  xxii-xxv,  xxviii,  xxxiii-xxxv, 

liii,  lix  ». 
Pliny,  xxxix  n. 
Pluto,  i.  185. 
Po,  river,  xlv,  Ixxxvii  n. 
Pceneian  cow,  i.  238. 
Poles,  i.  26. 

Poliziano,  Angelo,  xxxix  n. 
Polyhymnia,  i.  199. 
Polyphemus,  lxxxii ;  ii.  63. 
Polyxena,  sonnet  to,  ii.  146. 
Ponsonby,  William,  xcii,  c;  ii.  213,  215. 
Pontoux,  Claude  de,  xlvi.  lviii «.,  lxxiii//., 

Ixxxiv  n.  2,  lxxxv  and  «.,  lxxxviii-xc, 

xcv,  xcviii. 
Progne,  i.  216. 

Prometheus,  i.  118,  205 ;  ii.  100,  188,  362. 
Propertius,  xvii,  xxxix  n. 
Proserpina,  i.  103;  ii.  150,  199. 
Proteus,  ii.  393. 
Psyche,  i.  184 ;  ii.  199,  3°3- 
Ptholomeus,  ii.  315. 


Puttenham,    George,   xxix  n.    1,    li  and 

».,  lxxv  n.  1. 
Pygmalion,  i.  92  ;  ii.  116,  277,  292. 
Pyren[ees],  ii.  193. 
Pythius,  ii.  168. 
Python,  lxx,  Ixxxiv,  lxxxv  ;  ii.  18,  60. 

Rabelais,  lxiv  n. 
Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  xlviii,  xlix. 
Ram  (Zodiac),  i.  187. 
Ramnis,  i.  155. 
Renaissance,  xiii,  xvii,  xxviii. 
Reynolds,  John,  cvi. 
Phadamant,  ii.  144. 
Rhea,  son  of,  lxix;  ii.  18. 
Rhine,  river,  ii.  193. 
Rhodope,  i.  213. 
Rhone,  river,  xlv,  Ixxxvii  n. 
Rich,  Lady,  xliii  and  n. 

Robert,  2nd  Lord,  xliii  n.  ;   i.  29 ; 

ii.  83. 
Richard  III.,  ii.  23. 
Roberts,  James,  lxi;  ii.  75,  77. 
Robinson,  Clement,  xxxiii  n.  2. 
Rome  (Roma),  civ;  ii.   94,  386.     Cf.  i. 

I9S.  2°5>  3OI« 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  cviii. 

R  >nsard,  Pierre  de,  xxii,  xxxvw.,  xxxvi, 
xxxviii,  xli,  xlii  n.,  xliv,  xlv  n.  1, 
1-lii,  lvii  n.  2,  lix  n.,  lxii  and  «.,  lxvi- 
lxxi,  lxxv,  Ixxxiv  and  «.  2,  lxxxv,  xci, 
xcii  «.,  xcv  and  «.,  xcvii,  ci,  ex. 

Rosalynd,  Romance  of,  lxv,  lxxi,  lxxii. 

Rosamond,  liii  n.  1  ;  ii.  115. 

Rowland  [i.e.  Michael  Drayton],  ci ;  ii. 
145- 

Saint-Gklais,  Melin   de,    xxii  and  n., 

xxix,  xlv  n.  1,  Ixiii  and  11.  1,  lxxix. 
Sannazaro,  Jacopo,  xxv,  xxxv  n. 
Saj  pho,  i.  8;  ii.  23. 
Sasso,  Pamphilo,  xxv,  ciii  n.  2. 
Saturn,    i.    215;    ii.    47,    102,    311,    331, 

347- 
Satyrs,  i.  202. 
Sauromates,  i.  258. 
Scillaes  Metamorphosis,  lxxi. 
Scoloker,  Anthony,  cvi  //. 
Scorpion  (Zodiac),  i.  190,  191. 
Scotland,  i.  26  ;  ii.  193. 
Scylla,  ii.  342. 
Sennuccio  del  Bene,  x\  1. 
Sepinus,  Gervasius  of  Snumur,  xxxix  ;■•. 
Serafino  dell'  Aqnila,  xix,  xxv  n.,  icxix, 

xxxi,    xxxviii,   xxxix,    Ixxxiii  u.  2,  xc, 

ciii  n. 
Sestyan  Hero,  ii.  161. 
Seve,  Maurice,  liv  n,  2. 


432 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Severn,  river,  ii.  197. 

Sextius  Empedocus,  i.  9. 

Shakespeare,  William,  ix,  x,  xlii  n.  1, 
xlvi  «.,  lxiii  «.,  lxxv,  lxxvi  and  n.  1  and 
n.  2,  lxxxi  «. ,  lxxxiii,  lxxxv,  xcvii,  ciii 
n.  1,  cvii,  ex. 

Shakespeare,  Life  of,  lv  «.,  lxxvi  n.  2, 
lxxxiii  n.  1. 

Sharman,  Julian,  xxxv  n. 

Shepherds  Calendar,  xxxvi. 

Shrewsbury,  Countess  of,  Ixvi. 

Sidney,  Sir  Philip,  x,  xxxii-xxxiv,  xxxvi, 
xxxvii,  xlii,  xliii  and  «.,  xliv,  xlv-xlviii, 
xlix,  li,  lii,  lv  «.,  Ix,  lxi,  lxii,  lxxvi, 
lxxvii,  lxxxii,  lxxxvii  n.  I,  Ixxxviii*.  1, 
lxxxix  n.  1,  xcix,  ci,  cii,  cv;  i.  1-87 
passim  ;  ii.  95.     Cf.  i.  52 ;  ii.  27. 

Sienna,  civ  ;  ii.  372. 

Silvans  (Sylvans),  i.  210;  ii.  327. 

Simmes,  Valentine,  ii.  351,  356. 

Sinon,  ii.  306. 

Sireno,  i.  131,  133. 

Siren[s],  i.  94 ;  ii.  306,  329. 

Sisyphus  (Sysiphus),  ii.  201,  286. 

Smethwick,  John,  ii.  179. 

Smith,  Richard,  lxi ;  ii.  75,  78. 

Smith,  William,  ciii  and  n.  3,  civ  ;  ii.  321 
sqq. 

Socrates,  i.  305. 

Sol,  ii.  347. 

Somnus,  ii.  311. 

Sonnets  Spin'tuels,  cix  and  n. 

Soothern,  John,  xlix-li  and  n. ,  lxxv. 

Sophocles,  xxxix  n. 

Sophy,  ii.  45. 

Soupirs,  Les,  xxxv  «. 

Southampton,  Henry  [Wriothesley],  Earl 
of,  i.  314- 

Spain,  i.  205 ;  ii.  30,  206. 

Sparta,  i.  57  ;  ii.  382. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  x,  xxxiii-xxxvii,  xliii «., 
xlviii,  xlix,  lxi,  lxxxix,  xcii-xcix,  c,  ci  ; 
ii.  213,  215  sqq.,  323. 

Stella,  xliii  «.,  xliv,  xlv  ;  i.  1-88,  207,  275. 

Strange,  Lady,  i.  315. 

Strozza,  Ercole,  xxxiii  and  n.  2,  xxxix. 

Styx,  river,  ii.  199,  200,  343.  Cf.  i.  247  ; 
ii.  311. 

Surrey,  Earl  of,  xxviii-xxx,  xxxii,  xxxiii, 
xlvii. 

Syrinx,  ii.  328. 

Tamburlaine,  ii.  366. 
Tame,  river,  ii.  197. 
Tantalfusl,  i.  23  ;  ii.  314,  326. 
Tarlton's  A'ews  out  of  Purgatory,  lxxi. 
Tasso,   Torquato,  xix,    xxxv,    xxxix,  lii, 
liv  ;  ii.  29. 


Taurus  (Zodiac),  lxxx  n.    Cf.  Bull. 

Tears  of  Fancy,  etc.,  xli. 

Tebaldeo,  Antonio,  xxv  n.,  xlv  n.  2. 

Tellus,  ii.  161,  292,  306. 

Tempe,  lxxxvii  n.  ;  i.  48  ;  ii.  207,  3164 

Terpsichore,  i.  199. 

Teuce,  ii.  146. 

Thalia,  i.  199  ;  ii.  169. 

Thames,  river,  xlv,  lxxxiii  n. ;  i.  62  ;  ii, 

134.  197. 
Thamiras,  ii.  312. 
Thebes,  i.  69. 
Thelxione,  ii.  169. 
Theocritus,  xvii,  xxxix  n. 
Theophrastus,  i.  365. 
Theseus,  i.  in. 
Thessalian  shore,  ii.  230. 
Thetis,  lxx ;  i.  94,  228,  279,  312 ;  ii.  18, 

60,  85,  i6r,  284,  309. 
Thorpe,  Thomas,  xlii  n.  1. 
Thrace,  i.  210  ;  ii.  342. 
Thyrsis,  ii.  107. 
Tibullus,  xxxix  n. 
Timantes,  ii.  423. 
Titan,  i.    162,    180,   185,   224,   297 ;    ii. 

331- 
Titus,  ii.  306,  314. 
Tofte,  Robert  (R.  T.),  civ  and  «.,  cvi  n., 

35 1  W- 
Tottel's  Miscellany,  xxix  and  «.  2,  xxx, 

xxxi,  lxvii  n.  1. 
Trent,  river,  ii.  17. 
Triton,  ii.  3. 
Troilus ,  ii.  145. 
Troilus  and  Criseyde,  xxviii. 
Troy,  i.  9 ;  ii.   112,  382.    Cf  i.  52,  119, 

205  ;  ii.  303. 
Turkish  new  moon,  i.  26. 
Turnus,  ii.  77. 
Tweed,  river,  ii.  197. 
Twins,  the  (Zodiac),  i.  188. 
Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  cvii. 
Tyard,    Pontus  de,   xxxv  ».,  Ixxii  n.  1, 

lxxix  «.,  lxxx  n. ,  Ixxxviii,  xcv,  xcviii, 

xcix,  ci. 
Tyrian  buskins,  i.  180. 
Tyrone,  ii  206. 


Ulster,  i.  26. 

Ulysses,  ii.  228,  335. 

Urania,  i.  315. 

Vaganay,  M.   Hugues,  xxi  n. ,  xxv  n. 

Ixxxviii  n.  2. 
Valerius  Flaccus,  xxxix  «. 
Vauquelin  de  la  Fresnaie,  xxvi  n.  1,  lxvii 

and  n.  2,  Ixxviii  «.  3. 
Venice,  ii.  360. 


Index  of  Proper  Names 


433 


Venus,  xvii,  lxx,  lxxviii,  lxxxii,  ci  ;  i.  10, 
32,  42,  47,  49,  50,  67,  75,  94,  139,  140, 
164,   180,  184,  185,  190,  196,  197,  206, 

208,  211,  213,  215,  224,  235,  239,  249, 
253,    268,    277,    278,   282,  292,  293,  295, 

298,  300,  310;  ii.  18,  si,  25,  35,  37,  38, 
39-  4C  45.  47.  54.  60,  102,  147,  163, 
266,  286,  292,  293,  347,  373,  398,  401. 

Vere,  Edward  de,  Earl  of  Oxford,  xlii  n. 
1 ;  i.  108. 

Vergil,  xxiii,  xxxix  «.,  lv  n. 

Vesta,  i.  233,  257  ;  ii.  196. 

Vesuvius,  i.  213. 

Vianey,  M. ,  xxv  ;/. 

Visions  of  Bellay,  T/w,  xxxv. 

Visions  of  Petrarch  (Visions  de  Petrar- 
que),  xxxvi. 

Virgo  (Zodiac),  i.  189. 

Vita  Nuova  of  Dante,  xiii. 

Vulcan,  i.  140,  170,  208,  293,  343. 


W.,  G.,  senior,  ii.  216. 

Water-man  (Zodiac),  i.  191. 

Waterson,  Simon,  liii  n.  2. 

Watson,    Thomas,    xi,    xxviii   n.,    xxxii- 


xxxiv,  xxxvi-xliii,  xlvi,  xlix,  lxvii,  lxxxii, 
lxxxiii  n.  2,  xc,  xcix,  ciii  n.  2. 

Wilbye,  John,  lxv  n. 

Wilis,  river,  ii.  197. 

Wilton,  i.  123. 

Wither,  George,  cvi. 

Wits  Miserie,  lxiv  n. 

Wolf,  John,  lxxvi  n.  3  ;  i.  165. 

Wyatt,  Sir  Thomas,  xxii  «.,  xxviii,  xxix- 
xxxiii,  xlvii,  lxvii  n.  1. 

Yonge,  Nicholas,  xl  «.  2. 
York,  ii.  197. 

ZANCLiEAN  Charbid',  i.  247. 

Zenocrates,  ii.  116,  318. 

Zepheria,   xi,  Ixi  n.  2,  ci,  cvii ;  ii.   153- 

178  fasiim. 
Zephyr  (Zephyrus),  ii.  16,  207,  270,  327, 

392. 
Zeuxis,  i.  177,  178. 
Zodiac,  lxxix-lxxxi ;  i.  187,  188,   192  sqq.  ; 

ii.  368. 
Zodiaque,  Stances  du,  Ixxx. 
Zoilus,  xc  ;  i.  314. 
Zouch,  John,  cv  n.  r. 


II. 


2E 


INDEX    OF    FIRST   LINES 


About  the  well  from  which  mine  eies  did  flow,  i.  149 

A  carver  having  loved  too  long  in  vain,      .  ii.  102 

A  day,  a  night,  an  hour  of  sweet  content,  .  i.  106 

A  friend  of  mine,  pitying  my  hopeless  love,  ii.    80 

After  Aurora's  blush,  the  sun  arose,   .         .  i.  231 

After  long  storms  and  tempests  sad  assay,  ii.  248 

After  so  long  a  race  as  I  have  run,     .        .  ii.  256 

A  gentle  tame  deer  am  I,  called  a  Hart ;  .  ii.  410 
Ah  bed  !  the  field  where  joy's  peace  some 

do  see ; i.    60 

Ah  !  Colin,  whether  on  the  lowly  plain,     .  ii.  216 

Ah  fleeting  weal !  ah,  sly  deluding  sleep,  .  ii.    10 

Ah  me  !  How  many  ways  have  I  assayed,  i.  308 
Ah  me  !  sweet  beauty  lost  returns  no  more,     i.  204 

Ah  pale  and  dying  infant  of  the  spring,  .  ii.  5 
Ah,  pierce-eye  piercing  eye,  and  blazing 

light !                           i.  196 

Ah,  sweet  Content !  where  is  thy  mild  abode?  i.  209 

Ah,  ten  times  worse  tormented  than  before  !    i.  207 

Ah  Trees,  why  fall  your  leaves  so  fast?      .  ii.      8 

Ah,  were  my  tears,  as  many  writers'  be,     .  i.  256 

Ah  !  why  hath  nature  to  so  hard  a  heart    .  ii.  232 

Alas  !  have  I  not  pain  enough?  my  friend  !  i.  18 
Alas !  whence  came  this  change  of  looks? 

If  I,       _ >•    54 

A'  Licia  sigh  !  and  say,  Thou  art  my  own,  ii.    59 

All  beauty's  far  perfections  rest  in  thee  !    .  i.  264 

All  my  sense  thy  sweetness  gained  ;   .         .  i.  130 

Am  I  a  Gorgon  ?  that  she  doth  me  fly  !  .  ii.  329 
Amongst  the  Idle  toyes  that  tosse  my  brayne,  i.  152 

And  do  I  see  some  cause  a  hope  to  feel?     .  i.    44 

And  have  I  heard  her  say,  '  O  cruel  pain  I '  i.  115 

And  is  it  by  immutable  Decree?  .  .  ii.  167 
And  now,    thou    winged    Ambassador  of 

Wonder! ii-  i/7 

And  thus  continuing  with  outrageous  fire,  i.  189 

And  yet,  I  cannot  reprehend  the  flight,      .  ii.  124 

An  evil  spirit  (your  Beauty)  haunts  me  still,  ii.  191 

An  Ocean  Sea  of  water  calm  am  I ;    .        .  ii.  399 

Anon,  Fear(Sentinel  of  sad  Discretion  I     .  ii.  159 

A  painter  draw  the  image  of  the  boy,  .  ii-  39 
Are   those  two  stars,  her  eyes,  my  life's 

light,  gone? ii.    56 

Are  you  so  waspish  that,  from  time  to  time,  i.  242 


Anon,  when,  through  tempests  cruel  wrack,  ii.  23s 
Arraigned,  poor  Captive  at  the  Bar  I  stand  ;  ii.  267 

As  are  the  sands,  fair  Licia,  on  the  shore  ;  ii.    43 

A  satyr  once  did  run  away  for  dread,  .  i.  118 
As  burnished  gold,  such  are  my  Sovereign's 

Hairs ; ii-  373 

As  draws  the  golden  Meteor  of  the  day,     .  ii.  109 

As  good  to  write,  as  for  to  lie  and  groan,  .  i.  31 
Asin  some  Countries,  far  remote  from  hence,  ii.  206 

As  Love  and  I  late  harboured  in  one  inn,  .  ii.  210 

As  other  men,  so  I  myself,  do  muse,  .  .  ii.  185 
As  rocks  become,  exposed  'gainst  waves  and 

wind, ii-  384 

As  sacrifice  unto  a  goddess  bright,      .         .  ii.  419 

As  to  the  Roman,  that  would  free  his  land,  ii.  133 
A  strife  is  grown  between  Virtue  and  Love  ;    L    37 

Astronomers  the  heavens  do  divide,    .         .  ii.  102 

As  where  two  raging  venoms  are  united,  .  ii.  10 
As  winter's  rage,  young  plants  unkindly 

spilleth ; ii.  319 

A  thousand  times  to  think  and  think  the 

same, ii.    17 

A   witless  gallant,   a  young   wench    that 

wooed, ii.  191 

Ay  me,  poor  wretch  !  my  prayer  is  turned 

to  sin, ii.    96 

Aye  me  that  loue  wants  power  to  pierce  the 

hart, i-  146 

Bacchus!  Father  of  all  sport  !  .  •  i.  377 
Beauty,  sweet  love  !  is  like  the  morning  dew  ;  ii.  1 30 
Be  blind  mine  eyes  1  which  saw  that  stormy 

frown, i-  214 

Because  I  breathe  not  love  to  every  one,    .  i.    38 

Because  I  oft  in  dark  abstracted  guise,       .  I        1 

Before  bright  Titan  raised  his  team,  .         .  i.  .197 

Begs  Love!  which  whilom  was  a  deity?  .  i.  223 
Behold  deare  Mistres  how  each  pleasant 

greene 1.  158 

Behold,  outwalking  in  these  valley*,  .  i.  284 
Behold  these  tears,  my  love'*  true  tribute 

payment ! '■  a43 

Behold  what  hap  Pygmalion  had,  to  frame,  i.   93 

Being  myself  captived  here  in  care,     ,        .  ii.  253 

436 


436 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Be  nought  dismayed  that  her  unmoved  mind,  ii.  219 
Be  your  words  made,  good  Sir  !  of  Indian 

ware; ••    57 

Blame  me  not  deere  loue  though  I  talke  at 

randon,     ....  .         .      1.  161 

Blame  not  my  heart  for  flying  up  too  high  !  ii.  79 
Bless  still  the  myrrh  tree,  Venus  !  for  thy 

meed! i-  185 

Blot  not  thy  beauty  (Fairest  yet  unkind  !)  ii.  305 
Both  gems  and  pearls  their  proper  value 

have, ii.  396 

Breathing  forth  sighs  of  most  heart-break- 
ing might ii.  3°8 

Bright  matchless  Star,  the  honour  of  the 

sky! ii-    34 

Bright  star  of  Beauty  !  on  whose  eyelids  sit,  ii.  1S3 
Burn  on,  sweet  Fire  !  For  I  live  by  that  fuel,  i.  219 
Burst,  burst,  poor  heart !     Thou  hast  no 

longer  hope ; ii.    13 

But,  ah,  my  plague,  through  time's  outrage, 

increased  ! i.  191 

But  being  Care,  thou  flyest  me  as  111  Fortune,  ii.  99 
But    if   she    shall    attend    what    fortunes 

sequelled, ii.  178 

But  if  with  error  and  unjust  suspect,  .  .  ii.  175 
But  love  !  whilst  that  thou  may'st  be  loved 

again  ! ii.  125 

But  of  thy  heart  too  cruel  I  thee  tell,  .     ii.  348 

But  Pity,  which  sometimes  doth  lions  move,  i.  189 
But  thou  my  dear  sweet-sounding  lute,  be 

still ! ii.  3°9 

But  when  in  May,  my  world's  bright  fiery 

sun,  .        .  ...         -        .      1.  188 


Calling  to  mind  since  first  my  Love  begun,  ii.  206 
Care-charmer  Sleep!   Sonof  the  sable  Night !  ii.  132 
Care-charmer  Sleep  !     Sweet  ease  in  rest- 
less misery ii.  272 

Cease   Eyes  to  cherish  with  still  flowing 

tears,          .......  ii.  316 

Cease  eyes  to   weep,   sith   none   bemoans 

your  weeping  ! ii.  331 

Cease,  over  tired  Muses !  to  complain  ?      .  i.  213 
Cease  sorrow  !     Cease,  O  cease  thy  rage  a 

little ! i.  245 

Changed  is  my  nature  in  me  ;  where  before,  ii.  375 

Clear  Ankor,  on  whose  silver  sanded  shore,  ii.  207 
Clip   not,   sweet   Love,    the   wings  of  my 

Desire,      .......  ii.  270 

Coelia,  of  all  sweet  courtesies  resolve  me  !  ii.  147 

Colin,  I  know  that,  in  thy  lofty  wit,   .        .  ii.  349 

Colin,  my  dear  and  most  entire  beloved,     .  ii.  313 
Come  death  !   the  anchor  hold  of  all  rny 

thoughts, i-    99 


1. 

30 

II. 

248 

ii. 

277 

11. 

271 

1. 

197 

u 

325 

1. 

215 

11 

56 

I. 

17 

11. 

310 

Come,  let  me  write,   'And  to  what  end?' 

To  ease, i.    28 

Come  sleep  !  O  sleep !  the  certain  knot  of 

peace !       „..-.. 
Coming  to  kiss  her  lips  (such  grace  I  found), 
Compare  me  to  Pygmalion  with  his  Image 

'sotted,      ....... 

Compare  me  to  the  child  that  plays  with  fire  ! 
Cool !  cool  in  waves,  thy  beams  intolerable, 
Courteous  Calliope,  vouchsafe  to  lend, 
Covetous  Eyes  !  what  did  you  late  behold  ? 
Cruel  fair  Love  !     I  justly  do  complain, 
Cupid  !  because  thou  shin'st  in  Stella's  eyes 
Cupid  had  done  some  heinous  act  or  other, 
Cupid  I  hate  thee !  which  I  'd  have  thee 

know !       -,,... 


Daily  when  I  do  seek  and  sue  for  peace.  .  ii.  222 
Darke  is  the  day,  when  Phcebus   face  is 

shrowded, ii.  216 

Dark   Night !      Black  image  of  my  foul 

Despair  ! i.  217 

Dear  Mistress !  than  my  soul,  to  me  much 

dearer ! i.  257 

Dear  Sorrow  !     Give  me  leave  to  breathe  a 

while ! i.  259 

Dear  to  my  Soul  !  then,  leave  me  not  for- 
saken ! ii-    99 

Dear  !  why  make  you  more  of  a  dog,  than  me?  i.  40 
Dear  !  why  should  you  command  me  to  my 

rest,  ........     ii.  199 

Death  in  a  rage,  assaulted  once  my  heart,  ii.  38 
Define  my  Weal,  and  tell  the  joys  of  heaven  ;  ii.  211 
Deign,  mighty  Lord  !  these  verses  to  peruse,  i.  3:3 
Delia!  These  eyes  that  so  admireth  thine  !  ii.  127 
Desire  !  though  thou  my  old  companion  art,  i.  47 
Devoid  of  reason,  thrall  to  foolish  ire,  .  ii.  17 
Diana  and  her  nimphs  in  siluane  brooke,  .  i.  159 
Diana  shineth  in  the  heavens  clear ;  .  .  ii.  372 
Dian,  that  fain  would  cheer  her  friend  the 

Night; i.    59 

Did  I  not  love  her  as  a  lover  ought,  .  .  ii.  320 
Did  you  sometimes  three  German  brethren 

see  ; ii.  267 

Die,  die  my  Hopes  !  for  you  do  not  augment,  ii.  346 
Distance  of  place,  my  Love  and  me  did  part;ii.  72 
Do  I  not  see  that  fairest  images,  .  .  ii.  242 
Do  I,  unto  a  cruel  tiger  play  ;  .  .  .  ii.  294 
Doubt  there   hath  been — when,   with  his 

golden  chain, i.    40 

Doubt  you  to  whom  my  Muse  these  notes 

intendeth ; i.    66 

Down  from  the  neck  unto  that  dainty  Breast,  ii.  362 
Down  iti  a  bed,  and  on  a  bed  of  down,        .     ii.    71 


Index  of  First  Lines 


437 


Drawn,  cunning  Painter,  hast  thou  with 

great  art ii.  386 

Drawn  with  th'  attractive  virtue  of  her  eyes,  ii.  131 

Each  beast  in  field  doth  wish  the  morning 

light, >i.  343 

Each  creature  ioyes  Apollos  happie  sight,  i.  160 
Each  day,  new  proofs  of  new  despair  I  find,  ii.  93 
Each  tree  did  boast  the  wished  spring  times 

pride, i.  160 

Earth  !  take  this  earth  wherein  my  spirits 

languish  ! ii.  279 

Echo!    what   shall   I   do   to  my  Nymph, 

when  I  go  to  behold  her  !  i.  301 

End    this    Enchantment,     Love !     of   my 

desires !  .         .         .         .  ii.  3^9 

Envious  air,  all  Nature's  public  nurse,  .  i.  229 
Envious  wits  !  what  hath  been  my  offence,  i.  63 
Eternal  Twins  !  that  conquer  Death  and 

Time, ii.    78 

Even  as  the  lamp  goeth  out,  that  oil  doth 

want, ii.  377 

Exacter,  should  it  fortune  I  should  pencil 

thee ; ii.  166 

Faction  that  ever  dwells  in  court  where 

wit  excels, i.  107 

Fairand  lovely  Maid  !  Look  from  the  Shore  !  ii.  T2S 

Fair  art  thou,  Phillis,  ay  so  fair  sweet  maid,  ii.  12 
Fair  bosom,  fraught  with  virtues  richest 

treasure ii.  254 

Fair  by  inheritance  !  whom  born  we  see,    .  ii.  114 

Fair  Clytie  doth  flourish  with  the  Spring  ;  i.  204 

Fair  cruel  !  why  are  ye  so  fierce  and  cruel  ?  ii.  241 
Fair  eyes !  sweet   lips  !   dear  heart  !   that 

foolish  I, i.    32 

Fair  eyes  !  the  mirror  of  my  mazed  heart,  ii.  220 

Fair  eyes,  whilst  fearful  I  your  fair  admire,  ii.    15 

Fair  Grace  of  Graces !     Muse  of  Muses  all !  ii.  106 

Fair  is  my  love,  and  Cruel  as  she  's  fair  ;     .  ii.  119 

Fair  is  my  love  that  feeds  among  the  lilies,  ii.  283 

Fair  is  my  love,  when  her  fair  golden  hairs,  ii.  257 
Fair  ivory  Brow,  the  board  Love  banquets 

on  ! ii-  3X7 

Fair  matchless  Nymph,  respect  but  what 

I  crave, ii.    53 

Fair  Proud  !  now  tell  me,  Why  should  faire 

be  proud? ii.  230 

Fair  Queen  of  Cnidos !   come,  adorn  my 

forehead  ! ii-  M3 

Fair  !  seek  not  to  be  feared.     Most  lovely  ! 

beloved  by  thy  servants !          .        .        .  i.  117 
Fair  Shepherdess,  when  as  these  rustic  lim 
Fair  Sun  !  if  you   would   have   me  praise 

your  light,         .         <         .        .         .        .  11.    88 


Fair  ye  be  sure,  but  cruel  and  unkind,  .  ii.  244 
False  hope  prolongs  my  ever  certain  grief,  ii.  122 
Falsely  doth  Envy  of  your  praises  blame,  .  ii.  82 
Far  better  had  it  been,  I  had  been  dead,  .  ii.  ~6 
Fast  flowing  teares  from  watery  eies  abound- 
ing.    i.  148 

Feed  silly  sheep  !     Although  your  keeper 

pineth ; ii.  326 

Fidessa  fair  !  long  live  a  happy  maiden  !    .  ii.  265 

Fidessa's  worth  in  time  begetteth  praise,  .  ii.  29s 
Fie,    fie,    fierce    Tyrant !      Quench    this 

furious  rage  ! j.  206 

Fie,  Pleasure  !  fie  !    Thou  cloy'st  me  with 

delight ii.  282 

Fie,  school  of  Patience,  fie  !  your  lesson  is,  i.  39 
Finding  these  beams,  which  I  must  ever  love,  i.  122 

First  did  I  fear,  when  first  my  love  began  ;  ii.  44 
Fly  !  fly !  my  friends ;   I  have  my  death 

wound,  fly !  .  .  .  .  .  i.  2r 
Fly  low,  dear  love  !  thy  sun  dost  thou  not 

see? ii.    80 

Fly  to  her  heart  !     Hover  about  her  heart !  ii.  276 

Fools  be  they,  that  inveigh  'gainst  Mahonn-i;  ii.  92 
Forgive  me,  dear !  for  thundering  on  thy 

name  ; ii.  103 

For  glory,  pleasure,  and  fair  flourishing  ;  .  i.  199 

For  if  alone  thou  think  to  waft  my  Love,  .  ii.    55 

For  I  have  loved  long,  I  crave  reward  !  .  ii.  273 
Forth  from  mine  eyes,  with  full  tide,  flows 

a  river  ; i.  223 

For  to  behold  my  Sun,  I  from  the  sun,  .  ii.  370 
Fortune  cross  friend  to  ever-conquering  Love,  ii.  359 

Fortune  forwearied  with  my  bitter  mone,  .  i.  145 
Fresh  Spring,  the  herald  of  loves  mighty 

king •  »•  25« 

From  East's  bed  rosy,  whence  Aurora  riseth  ;  i.  218 

From  milk  of  Juno,  as  the  Poets  feign,       .  ii.  388 

From  the  revenue  of  thine  eyes'  Exchequer,  ii.  177 

From  thine  heart's  ever-burning  vestal  fire,  i.  182 

Give  me  my  Heart!     For  no  man  liveth 

heartless! •  L  Io6 

Give  period  to  my  matter  of  complaining,  ii-  III 

Go,  bastard  Orphan  !     Pack  thee  hence  !  .  i.  168 

Goe  Idle  lines  unpolisht  rude  j    '  ■■" 

Gold  upon  gold,  mine  only  Joy  did  pi. u<,  ii,  Jtj 

Go  my  flock  !  go  get  you  hence  !         .        .  i.    8a 

Good  brother  Philip  I  I  have  born  you  long,  1.    5* 

Good  God  !  how  senseless  be  we  paramours,  ii.  1  14 

Go,  wailing  verse  !  the  infant  of  my  love—  i.    88 

'  Grant,  fairest  kind,  a  kiss  unto  thy  friend  I '  ii.    4* 

Great  is  the  joy  that  no  tongue  cmn  expreu  I  il  375 
G-eat  was  the  strife  between  the  Sun  on 

high l:-*6' 

vrong  I  doe,  I  can  it  not  denjr,       •  "- 233 


43* 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Grief,  find  the  words  !     For  thou  hast  made 

my  brain, I.    58 

Grief  urging  Guest !  great  cause  have  I  to 

plain  me, ii.  269 

Had  I  been  banished  from  the  native  soil,  i.  227 

Had  she  not  been  so  excellently  fair,  .  ii.  108 
Hand,  hart  and  eie,  tucht  thought  and  did 

behold, i.  159 

Happy !    depart   with   speed  1     Than   me, 

more  fortunate  ever !  .  .  .  .  i.  262 
Happy    in    sleep ;     waking,    content    to 

languish ; i.    98 

Happy  ye  leaves !  when  as  those  lily  hands,  ii.  217 
Hard  are  the  rocks,  the  marble,  and  the 

steel, ii-    38 

Hark,  all  you  fairies  that  do  sleep  !    .  i.  103 

Hark  !  all  you  lovely  Nymphs  forlorn  !      .  i.  292 

Hark  Lovers!     Hark,  a  strange  miracle,   .  ii.  384 

Have  I  caught  my  heavenly  jewel,  .  i.  68 
Having  this  day,  my  horse,  my  hand,  my 

lance, i.    31 

Hear  how  my  sighs  are  echoed  by  the  wind  !  ii.    52 

Hearken  awhile,  Diella  !  to  a  story,  .        .  ii.  320 

Heralds  at  arms  do  three  perfections  quote,  ii.  83 
Here  end  my  sorrow,  no  here  my  sorrow 

springeth, i.  154 

Her  love  to  me,  She  forthwith  did  impawn,  i.  172 

He  that  can  count  the  candles  of  the  sky,  .  ii.  316 

He  that  will  Caesar  be,  or  else  not  be,        .  ii.  275 

He  that  would  fain  Fidessa's  image  see,     .  ii.  281 

He,  when  continual  vigil  moved  my  watch,  i.  170 
Highway  !  since  you  my  chief  Parnassus  be  ;  i.  53 
Him  when  I  caught,  what  chains  had  I 

provided ! i.  172 

His  mother  dear,  Cupid  offended  late  ;  i.    19 

His  shadow  to  Narcissus  well  presented  ;  .  ii.  98 
Hither,  chaste  Phcebe's  Nymphs  flocked  in 

procession, ii.  174 

Hold  1  Matchless  Mirror  of  all  Woman- 
kind ! i.  237 

Hopeles  and  helpeles  too,  poor  loueamated,  i.  141 
Hope !  art  thou  true,  or  dost  thou  flatter  me  ?  i.    44 

Hope,  like  the  hyaena,  coming  to  be  old,  .  ii.    95 

How  can  I  live  in  mind's  or  body's  health,  i.  214 

How  can  that  piercing  crystal-painted  eye,  ii.  266 

How  have  I  forfeited  thy  kind  regard;  .  ii.  165 
How  languisheth   the   primrose   of  love's 

garden  1 ii.      6 

How  long  shall  I,  in  mine  affliction  mourn?  ii.  129 

How  long  shall  this  like  dying  life  endure,  ii.  229 
How    made   I,   then,   attempt  in  courtly 

fashion, ii.  162 

How  many  golden  days  I  have  I  set  free,  .  ii.  172 

How  many  paltry  foolish  painted  Things, .  ii.  184 


How  often  hath  my  pen  (mine  heart's 
Solicitor !) ii.  167 

How  often  have  mine  eyes  (thine  eye's 
apprentice, ii-  163 

How  shall  I  deck  my  Love  in  love's  habili- 
ment,          ii.  165 

How  then  succeedeth  that,  amid  this  woe,      i.  170 

How  wert  thou  pleased  with  my  Pastoral 

Ode! .     ii.  162 


I  am  no  model  figure,  or  Sign  of  Care  ; 
I  burn,  yet  am  I  cold  !  I  am  a  cold,  yet  burn 
'  I  cannot  conquer  and  be  conquered  ! ' 
I  curst  thee  oft,  I  pity  now  thy  case, . 
I  dare  not  speak  of  that  thrice  holy  hill, 
I  do  compare  unto  thy  youthly  clear, 
I  do  not  now  complain  of  my  disgrace, 
I  ever  love,  where  never  Hope  appears, 
If,  aged  Charon,  when  my  life  shall  end, 
If  all  the  Loves  were  lost,  and  should  be 

found ; 

If  April  fresh  doth  kindly  give  us  flotvers 
If  a  true  heart  and  faith  unfeigned  ;   . 
If  Beauty  bright  be  doubled  with  a  frown, 
If  Cruel  thou  desirous  art  of  blood ;     . 
If  Cupid  keep  his  quiver  in  thine  eye, 
I  feel  myself  endangered  beyond  reason, 
If  ever  Sorrow  spoke  from  Soul  that  loves, 
If  floods  of  tears  could  cleanse  my  follies 

past 

If  great  Apollo  offered  as  a  dower, 
If  he  be  dead  in  whom  no  heart  remains,    . 
If  he,  from  heaven  that  filched  that  living  fire 
If  I  could  think  how  these  my  thoughts  to 

leave; 

I  f  in  the  midst  of  kindly  burning  fire, 
If  I  somewhile  look  into  the  skies, 
If  it  be  sin,  so  dearly  for  to  love  thee  ; 
If,  Laura,  thou  dost  turn  'gainst  me  in  hate 
If  lovely  Lass,  for  Fairing  thine,  of  me, 
If  love,  wherein  I  burn,  were  but  a  fire  ; 
If  neither  Love,  nor  Pity  can  procure, 
If  Orpheus'  voice  had  force  to  breathe  such 

music's  love, 

If  sad  complaint  would  shew  a  Lover's  pain 
If  scalding  sighs,  my  faith  may  testify, 
If  Sea,  no  other  thing  doth  show  to  be, 
If  so  I  seek  the  Shades,  I  presently  do  see 
If  so  it  hap  the  offspring  of  my  care,  . 
If  that  I  die,  fair  Licia,  with  disdain, 
If  this  be  love,  to  draw  a  weary  breath, 
If  thou  art  cold,  as  is  the  Winter's  snow  ; 
If  true  love  might  true  love's  reward  obtain, 
If  what  is  heavy  craves  the  Centre  base ;  . 
If  whilom,  in  times  past,  that  Spartan  Lass, 


ii.  98 
!  i.  186 
ii.  15° 
i.  34 
i-  235 
ii.  16 
ii.  96 
ii  194 
»■    55 

i.  208 
ii.  386 

i.    95 

i.  98 
ii.  411 

i.  209 
ii.  16 
ii.    97 


i.  108 
ii.  292 
ii.  57 
ii.  188 


1.  121 
ii.  369 
ii.  381 
ii.  144 
ii.  363 
ii.  366 
ii.  397 

i.  258 


i.  69 
ii.  73 
ii.  421 
ii.  367 
ii.    19 

i.    89 

»•  59 
i.  99 
ii.  4°5 
ii.  84 
ii.  383 
ii.  183 


Index  of  First  Lines 


439 


If  white's  the  Moon,  thou  Laura  seem'st  as 

white  ; iL  377 

I  have  not  spent  the  April  of  my  time,  .  ii.  282 
I  hear  some  say,  '  This  man  is  not  in  love  I '  ii.  193 
I  hope  and  fear,  I  pray  and  hold  my  peace,  ii.  19 
I  joy  to  see  how  in  your  drawen  work,  .  ii.  252 
I  know,  within  my  mouth,  for  bashful  fear,  ii.  307 
I  live,  sweet  Love,  whereas  the  gentle  wind,  ii.  47 
I  '11  teach  thee,  lovely  Phillis,  what  love  is,  ii.  14 
Illuminating  lamps  1  Ye  orbs  chrystallite,  ii.  161 
I  meet  not  mine,  by  others'  discontent,  .  ii.  no 
I  might  have  died  before  my  life  began  ;  .  ii.  45 
I  might — unhappy  word,  O  me  I — I  might,  i.  27 
Imperious  Jove,  with  sweet  lipped  Mercury,  i.  180 
Imperious  love  who  in  the  prime  of  youth,  i.  155 
I  must  not  grieve  my  love !  whose  eyes  would 

read, ii.  130 

In  a  grove  most  rich  of  shade,     .         .  1.    79 

Inamoured  Jove,  commanding,  did  entreat,  ii.  41 
In  a  shady  grove  of  myrtle,  .         .         .      i.  283 

In  centre  of  these  Stars  of  Love,  .        .      i.  233 

In  Clowdes  she  shines  and  so  obscurely  shineth,  i.  161 
I  never  drank  of  Aganippe's  well ;  .  .  i.  48 
In  Fancy's  world  an  Atlas  have  I  been,  .  ii.  4 
In  former  times,  such  as  had  store  of  coin,  ii.  210 
In  highest  way  of  heaven;  the  sun  did  ride,  i.  22 
In  Ida  Vale  three  Queens,  the  Shepherd  saw ;  ii.  40 
Injurious  Fates  !  to  rob  me  of  my  bliss,  .  ii.  285 
In  Love  his  kingdom  great,  two  fools  there  be,  ii.  406 
In  martial  sports  I  had  my  cunning  tried  ;  i.  37 
In  nature  apt  to  like,  when  I  did  see,  .      i.    19 

Innocent  paper  ;  whom  too  cruel  hand,  .  ii.  240 
In  Pride  of  Wit,  when  high  desire  of  fame,  ii.  204 
Inprimeofyouthlyyearesasthennot  wounded,  i.  39 
In  quiet  silence  of  the  shady  night,  .  .  i.  248 
In  silver  stream,  on  shallow  fountain's  shelf,  ii.  408 
In  sweetest  pride  of  youthful  May,  .  .  i.  270 
In  that  proud  port,  which  her  so  goodly 

graceth, ii.  223 

In  the  Egean  dangerous  sea  of  Love,  .     ii.  360 

In  time  the  strong  and  stately  turrets  fall,  ii.  48 
Into  these  loves,  who  but  for  passion  looks ;  ii.  180 
In  truth,  O  love  1  with  what  a  boyish  kind,  i.  16 
In  vain  I  seek  and  sue  to  her  for  grace,  .  ii.  226 
In  vasty  sea,  fain  would  my  slender  muse,  ii.  422 
In  wonted  walks,  since  wonted  fancies  change,  i.  120 
I,  on  my  horse  ;  and  Love  on  me,  doth  try,  i.  35 
I  saw,  sweet  Licia,  when  the  Spider  ran,  .  ii.  58 
I  saw  the  object  of  my  pining  thought,  .  i.  145 
I  see,  I  hear,  I  feel,  I  know,  I  rue,  .  .  ii.  288 
I  see  the  house  1  My  heart !  thyself  contain  1  i.  53 
Is  it  her  nature,  or  is  it  her  will, .  .  •  »•  237 
I  slept,  when  (underneath  a  laurel  shade,  .  i.  233 
Is  not  Love  here,  as  'tis  in  other  clinK-s?  .  ii.  194 
I  speak,  fair  Licia,  what  my  torments  be  ; .     ii.    52 


11.    49 


I  stood  amazed,  and  saw  my  Licia  shine,   . 
Is  Trust  betrayed?    Doth  Kindness  grow 

unkind? 

I  swear,  fair  Licia,  still  for  to  be  thine ;      , 

It  chanced,  after  that  a  youthful  Squire,    . 

It  is  most  true — that  eyes  are  formed  to  serve, 

It  is  not  death  which  wretched  men  call  dying, 

It  is  some  comfort  to  the  wronged  man, 

It  may  be,  Love  my  death  doth  not  pretend, 

It  pleasd  my  Mistres  once  to  take  the  aire, 

It  shall  be  said  I  died  for  Coelia  1       . 

It  was  not  long  ago,  since,  like  a  wanton,  . 

It  was  of  love,  ungentle  gentle  boy  1  . 

I  wage  the  combat  with  two  mighty  foes,  . 

I  was  a  King  of  sweet  Content  at  least ;     . 

I  wish  no  rich  refined  Arabian  gold  !  . 

I  wish  sometimes,  although  a  worthless  thing, 

I  would  in  rich  and  golden  coloured  rain,  . 

I  wrote  in  Mirrha's  bark,  and  as  I  wrote,  . 

I  wrote  my  sighs,  and  sent  them  to  my  Love, 

I  wrote  upon  there  sides  to  eke  their  plaining, 


Jove  for  Europa's  love,  took  shape  of  Bull, 
Joy  of  my  life  1  full  oft  for  loving  you,  . 
Joy  of  my  soul  I     My  blindfold  eyes'  clear 

light  I ii.  408 

Judged  by  my  Goddess'  doom  to  endless 

pain ; ii.  141 

Justly  of  thee,  Love  partial,  I  complain,    .     ii.  37a 


293 

lL 

43 

L 

171 

1. 

13 

11. 

S 

11. 

201 

11. 

84 

1. 

M7 

11. 

150 

11 

168 

ii. 

276 

11. 

M 

11. 

•-'9 1 

1. 

197 

11 

40 

11 

18 

11. 

9 

11. 

5° 

1 

150 

i 

-°7 

11 

257 

Lacking  my  love,  I  go  from  place  to  place, 
Lady  1  in  beauty  and  in  favour  rare,  . 
Lady,  the  sun  was  in  Aquarius, 
Lady,  thou  seemest  like  Fortune  unto  me, 
Lady,  what  time  I  seek  in  mournful  note, 
Lame  Consonants,  of  member-vowels  robbed 
Late  tired  with  woe,  even  ready  for  to  pine, 
Laura  is  fair  and  cruel  both  in  one ;    . 
Laya,    soon    sounding    out    his    nature 

throughly, 

Leave,  lady  1  in  your  glass  of  crystal  clean, 
Leave  me,  O  love  I  which  readiest  but  to 

dust  I        .        •        •        • 
Let  dainty  wits  cry  on  the  Sisters  nine,      . 
Let  not  Disdain,  thy  soul  unsanctify, 
Let  not  one  sparke  of  filthy  lustful  fire,      . 
Let  others  sing  of  Knights  and  Palladins,  . 
Letters  and  lines,  we  see  are  soon  defaced, 
Licia,  my  Love,  was  sitting  in  a  grove ;      . 
Like  an  adventurous  seafarer  am  I,    . 
Like  as  a  huntsman  after  weary  chase, 
Like  as  a  ship,  that  through  the  Ocean  wide, 
Like  as  the  Culver,  on  the  bated  bOUgb, 
Like  as  the  dove,  which,  sealcl  1111,  doth  fly 
Like  as  the  lute,  that  joys  or  else  dl 


»•  255 
it.  85 
ii.  368 
ii.  374 
ii.  383 
i.  198 
i.  42 
ii-4'3 


i.  171 
ii.  239 

>  '35 
i.  12 
ii.  170 
ii.  358 
ii.  1  ,j 
ii.  187 
ii.  43 
ii.  181 
ii.  250 

ii.  s6o 
:i.  ..7 
ii-  in 


440 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Like   Memnon's    rock,   touched    with  the 

rising  sun, ii.    58 

Like  some  weak  lords — neighboured  by- 
mighty  kings — i.    25 

Like  to  a  falcon  watching  for  a  flight,         .  ii.  305 

Like  to  the  blacksome  night,  I  may  compare,  ii.  360 

Like  to  the  Mountains,  are  mine  high  desires  ;  i.  201 

Like  to  the  Shipman  in  bis  brittle  boat,      .  ii.  342 

Lo  here,  the  impost  of  a  faith  unfeigning,  .  ii.  135 

Long  did  I  wish,  before  I  could  attain,       .  ii.  319 

Long  hath  my  sufferance  laboured  to  enforce,  ii.  4 
Long  have  I  sued  to  fortune,  death  and  love,  i.  156 
Long  haue  I  swome  against  the  wished  waue,  i.  156 

Long  languishing  in  double  malady,  .  .  ii.  241 
Long  time  I  fought,  and  fiercely  waged 

warre,        .......  i.  139 

Long  while  I  sought  to  what  I  might  com- 
pare,            ii.  221 

Long-wished  for  Death  !  sent  by  my  Mistress' 

doom; i.  216 

Look,  as  a  bird,  through  sweetness  of  the 

call, ii.  312 

Look,  Delia  !  how  we  'steem  the  half-blown 

lose, ii.  124 

Look  in  my  griefs !  and  blame  me  not  to 

mourn,      .        •        .        ■        ■        .  i.    97 

Love  and  my  Love  did  range  the  forest  wild,  ii.  36 
Love  banished  heaven,  in  earth  was  held 

in  scorn  ; ii.  192 

Love,  being  blind,  hath  wrought  me  damage 

sore; ii.  363 

Love  born  in  Greece,  of  late  fled  from  his 

native  place  : i.    15 

Love  1  by  sure  proof  I  may  call  thee  unkind,  i.    43 

Love  guides  the  roses  of  thy  lips,  .  ii.  9 
Love  have  I  followed  all  too  long,  nought 

gaining  ; ii.  105 

Love  in  a  humour,  played  the  prodigal,     .  ii.  184 

Love,  I  repent  me  that  I  thought,       .         .  ii.    61 

Love  is  a  name  too  lovely  for  the  god  !        .  i.  213 

Lovely  Maya !  Hermes'  mother,  .  .  i.  2S6 
Love,  ope  my  heart  1   Hot  fire  thou  forth 

shalt  take, ii.  395 

Love  still  a  boy,  and  oft  a  wanton  is,  .  i.  47 
'  Love  this  fair  Lass ! '  said  Love  once  unto 

me, ii.  416 

Love  was  laid  down,  all  weary,  fast  asleep  ;  ii.  39 
Love  whets  the  dullest  wits,  his  plagues  be 

such : i.  105 

Love,  with  her  hair,  my  Love  by  force  hath 

tied ; ii.    37 

Loving  in  truth,  and  fain  in  verse  my  love 

to  show i.    11 

Lolled  in  a  heavenly  Charm  of  pleasing 

Passions; ii.  157 


Mark  when  she  smiles  with  amiable  cheer,  ii.  236 
Marvel  I  do  not,  though  thou  dost  not  see,  ii.  381 
Marvel   not   Love  1    though   I   thy  power 

admire ! ii-  198 

Men  call  you  fair,  and  you  do  credit  it,  .  ii.  256 
Methinks,  I  see  some  crooked  Mimic  jeer,  ii.  196 
Methought,     Calliope    did    from    heaven 

descend, >•  '99 

Might  not  this  be  for  man's  more  certainty,  i.  175 
Mine  eye  bewrays  the  secrets  of  my  heart,  ii.  287 
Mine  eye  with  all  the  deadly  sins  is  fraught,  ii.  81 
Mirror  of  Beauty  !  Nature's  fairest  Child  !  ii.  304 
Mistress  !    Behold,  in  this  true  speaking 

glass i.  169 

'Mongst  all  the  creatures  in  this  spacious 

round, ii.  189 

'Mongst  the  Parthians  is  a  kind  of  ground,  ii.  395 
More  fair,  but  yet  more  cruel  I  thee  deem,  ii.  160 
More  then  most  fair,  full  of  the  living  fire,  ii.  220 
Morpheus  !  the  lively  son  of  deadly  Sleep,  i.  27 
Most  glorious  Lord  of  life  !  that  on  this  day,  ii.  250 
Most  happy  letters  !  framed  by  skilful  trade,  ii.  253 
Most  true  that  I  must  fair  Fidessa  love,  .  ii.  296 
Mournful   Amyntas,  thou  didst  pine  with 

care, ii.  33a 

Much  sorrow  in  itself  my  love  doth  move,  ii.  82 
'  Murder  !  O  murder  !'  I  can  cry  no  longer,  ii.  289 
Muses,  I  oft  invoked  your  holy  aid,    .  i.    38 

Muses  !  which  sadly  sit  about  my  chair,  .  ii.  203 
My  cruel  fortunes,  clouded  with  a  frown,  .  ii.  289 
My  Cynthia  hath  the  waters  of  mine  eyes,  i.  95 
My  Delia  hath  the  waters  of  mine  eyes,  .  ii.  129 
My  fair  !  if  thou  wilt  register  my  Love,  ,  ii.  208 
My  fate  !  O  not  my  fault !  hath  me  debarred,  ii.  160 
My  fixed  faith  against  oblivion  fights  ;  .  ii.  341 
My  frail  and  earthly  bark,  by  reason's  guide,  ii.  8 
My  God,  my  God,  how  much  I  love  my 

goddess,   .......     ii.  105 

My  grief  began,  fair  Saint,  when  first  I  saw,  ii.  54 
My  hart  accused  mine  eiss  and  was  offended,  i.  144 
My  hart  impos'd  this  penance  on  mine  eyes,  i.  144 
My  heart,  mine  Eye  accuseth  of  his  death,  ii.  104 
My  heart  the  Anvil  where  my  thoughts  do 

beat,  .         .         .  .  .     ii.  201 

My  heart  was  slain,  and  none  but  you  and  I  ?  ii.  182 
My  hungry  eyes,  through  greedy  covetise,  ii.  234 
My  Lady's  hair  is  threads  of  beaten  gold,  ii.  284 
My  lady's  presence  makes  the  Roses  red,  .  ii.  83 
My  Laura  wonders  that,  in  visage  pale,  .  ii.  389 
My  life's  preserver !  hope  of  my  heart's  bliss  !  ii.  313 
My  Love,  alas,  is  sick  !  Fie  envious  sickness  !  L  232 
My  Love,  amazed,  did  blush  herself  to  see,  ii.  37 
My  love  bound  me  with  a  kiss,  i.  105 

My  Love,  I  cannot  thy  rare  beauties  place,  ii.  334 
My  love  is  like  to  ice,  and  I  to  fire,    .         .     ii.  231 


Index  of  First  Lines 


441 


My  love  lay  sleeping  where  birds  music 
made 

My  Loue  more  bright  than  Cinthias  horned 
head,         

My  Love  was  masked,  and  armed  with  a  fan  ; 

My   matchless    mistress,    whose   delicious 


i.  162 
ii.    46 


eyes, 


My  Mistress'  arms,  are  these;  fair,  clear, 

and  bright, i.  221 

My    mistress'    beauty  matched    with  the 

Graces', i.  212 

-My  mistress  lowers,  and  saith,  'I  do  not 

love,' i.  119 

My  mistres  seeing  her  faire  counterfet,  .  i.  t57 
'  My  mistress  seems  but  brown,'  say  you  to 

me,    .......    ii.  418 

My  mistress  writing,  as  her  hand  did  shake,  ii.  416 
My  mourning  Mistress's  garments,  black 

doth  bear; "-385 

My  mouth  doth  water,  and  my  breast  doth 

swell, i.    29 

My  Muse  may  well  grudge  at  my  heavenly 

joy, i.    46 

My  pain  paints  out  my  love  in  doleful  verse,  ii.  274 
My  reason  absent,  did  mine  eyes  require,  .  ii.  86 
My  spotless  love  hovers,  with  purest  wings,  ii.  121 
My  spotless  love,  that  never  yet  was  tainted,  ii.  269 
My  sweet  Parthenophe  I  within  thy  face,  .  i.  218 
My  tears  are  true  :  though  others  be  divine,  ii.  112 
My  waterie  eies  let  fall  no  trickling  teares,  i.  152 
My  words,  I  know,  do  well  set  forth  my  mind  ;  i.  33 
My  years  draw  on  my  everlasting  night,    .      i.  100 


Nature,  I  find,  doth,  once  a  year,  hold 

market ii.  173 

Nature's  pride,  Love's  pearl,  Virtue's  per- 
fection,        i.  228 

Near  Wilton  sweet,  huge  heaps  of  stones 

are  found, i.  123 

Needs  must  I  leave,  and  yet  needs  must  I 

love ! ii.    91 

Ne'er  from  a  lofty  pitch,  hath  made  more 

speed, ii.  171 

Ne'er  were  the  silvery  wings  of  my  Desire,  ii.  164 

New  year,  forth  looking  out  of  Janus'  gate,  ii.  218 
Next  when  my  sun  by  progress  took  his  hold,  i.  188 

Next  when  the  boundless  fury  of  my  sun,  .  i.  187 

No  art  nor  force  can  unto  pity  move,          .  ii.  345 
No  choice  of  change  can  ever  change  my 

mind  1       .        .        .    "   .        •        •        .  ii.  287 

No  glory  makes  me  glorious  or  glad,  .        .  ii.    13 

No  more  a  man,  as  once  I  was,  am  I,          .  ii.  378 
No  more  !  my  dear  1  no  more  these  counsels 

try! j-    43 

Non  convitia,  nee  latrationes,     .         .         .  ii-    25 


None  dares  now  look  more  on  my  Laura's 

face, ii.  417 

None  other  fame,  mine  unambitious  muse,  ii.  134 

No,  no,  no,  no,  I  cannot  hate  my  foe,         .  i.  129 

No  1  no  1  Zepheria  1  Fame  is  too  rich  a  prize,  ii.  166 

No  sooner  do  I  earnest  fix  mine  eyes,         .  ii.  392 

No  sooner  had  fair  Phoebus  trimmed  his  car,  ii.  32S 

No  sooner  Laura  mine  appears  to  me  ;       .  ii.  407 

No  sooner  leaves  Hyperion,  Thetis'  bed,  .  ii.  30 j 
No  stars  her  eyes  to  clear  the  wandering 

night .  ii.      6 

Not  at  the  first  sight,  nor  with  a  dribbled 

shot, i.    12 

Not  causeless  were  you  christened,  gentle 

flowers, 'i-     '5 

Nothing  but  '  No  ! '  and  '  I,'  and  '  I '  and 

'No,' ii.  183 

Now  each  creature  joys  the  other,       .        .  ii.  136 

Now  in  my  Zodiac's  last  extremest  sign,    .  i.  192 

Now  Loue  triumphed  hauing  got  the  day,  i.  142 
Now  that  of  absence  the  most  irksome  night,  i.    55 

Nulli  se  dicit  mulier  mea  nubere  malle,  .  i.  116 
Nymph  of  the  garden  1  where  all  beauties 

be: i-    52 

Nymphs,  which  in  beauty  moi  tal  creatures 

stain '•  2°* 

O  absent  presence  1  Stella  is  not  here  !     .  i.    64 

O  Beauty !  Siren  !  kept  with  Circe's  rod  1 .  ii.  294 
O   be  not  grieved  that  these  my  papers 

should, »•  >-7 

O  dart  and  thunder  !  whose  fieice  violence,  i.  19s 

O  dear  life !  when  shall  it  be,      .        .        .  i.    84 

O  Dear  remembrance  of  my  Lady's  eyes,  .  i.  255 

O  dear  vexation  of  my  troubled  soul  I  .  i.  260 
O  Eyes !  which  do  the  spheres  of  beauty 

move ; .!'    ^2 

O  fairest  Fair,  to  thee  I  make  my  plaint,  .  ii.  336 

O  fair  !  O  sweet !  when  I  do  look  on  thee,  i.  1 1  -• 

O  Fair  sweet  glove  !  Divine  token,     .        .  i-  -7/ 

Of  all  the  kings  that  ever  here  did  reign  ;  .  i.    48 

Of  all  the  women  which  of  yore  have  been,  ii.  146 

Of  an  Athenian  young  man  have  I  read,     .  ii. 

O  fate  !  O  fault  1  O  curse  !  child  of  my  bliss  I  i. 

Of  constant  love,  I  am  the  wasted  fire  ;  .  ii.  389 
O  Fiery  rage  !  when  will  thou  be  consumed?  L  219 
Oft  and  in  vain   my  rebel  thoughts  have 

ventured, .!'    9 

Oft  do  I  marvel,  whether  Delia's  eyes,        .  ii  i»1 

Oft  have  I  mused,  but  now  at  lenglh  1  find,  1.  las 

Oft  have  I  rail'd  against  love  ninny  waies,  i.  "64 
Oft  have  mine  eyes,  the  Agents  of  mine 

Heart, 

Of  this  high  grace,  with  bliss  conjoined,    .  I   ■ 

Of  this  world's  Theatre  in  whi  "■   M  I 


442 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Oft,  when  my  spirit  doth  spread  her  bolder 

wings, ii.  252 

Oft  with  true  sighs,  oft  with  uncalled  tears,  i.    41 

O  grammar  rules  !  0  now  your  virtues  show  1  i.    42 

O  had  she  not  been  fair,  and  thus  unkind  1  ii.  119 

O  happy  hour,  and  yet  unhappy  hour  !  .  ii.  142 
O  Happy  Thames  I    that  didst  my  Stella 

bare, i.    62 

O  Heavenly  Coelia,  as  fair  as  virtuous  !     .  ii.  143 

O  how  the  pleasant  airs  of  true  love  be,      .  i.    50 

O  if  my  heavenly  sighs  must  prove  annoy,  ii.  271 

Ojoyl  too  high  for  my  low  style  to  show,  i.    45 

O  kingly  jealousy  !  which  canst  admit,  .  i.  216 
O  kiss,  which  dost  those  ruddy  gems  impart,  i.  51 
O  let  me  sigh,  weep,  wail,  and  cry  no  more,  ii.  295 

O  let  my  heart,  my  body,  and  my  tongue,  ii.  283 
O  Love,  leave  off  with  sorrows  to  torment 

me, ii.  33S 

Once  in  a  harbour  was  my  mistress  sleeping,  i.  177 
Once  may  I  see,  when  years  may  wreck  my 

wrong, i.  101 

On  Cupid's  bow,  how  are  my  heart-strings 

bent  1 i.    20 

One  day  as  I  unwarily  did  gaze,  .  .  ii.  224 
One  day  I  sought  with  her  heart-thrilling 

eyes,         .......  ii.  222 

One  day  I  wrote  her  name  upon  the  strand,  ii.  254 
One  lovely  glance,  which  from  the  eyes  did 

pass, ii.  391 

One  night,  I  did  attend  my  sheep,     .        .  i.  280 

One  sun  unto  my  life's  day  gives  true  light,  ii.  101 

O  never  can  I  see  that  sunny  light !    .  i.  250 

Only  joy  1  now  here  you  are,       .         .         .  i.    70 

O  no  I  dare  not  I  O  !  I  may  not  speak  !  .  ii.  292 
Onquicksedge  wrought  with  lovely  eglantine,  ii.  414 
On  the  plains,  Fairy  trains  were  a  treading 

measures, i.  291 

O  pleasing  thoughts,  apprentices  of  love,    .  ii.      3 

O  Powers  Celestial !  with  what  sophistry,  i.  175 

O  she  must  love  my  sorrows  to  assuage,  .  ii.  274 
O  sugared  talk  I   wherewith  my  thoughts 

do  live ii.    60 

O  sweet,  pitiless  eye,  beautiful  orient,  i.  308 
O  tears!  no  tears  but  rain  from  beauty's 

skies, i.    61 

O  that  I  could  make  her,  whom  I  love  best,  i.  306 

O  that  I  had  no  heart  !  as  I  have  none,      .  i.  208 

O  that  I  were  sly  Proteus  1  for  to  take,  .  ii.  393 
O  that,  some  time,  thou  saw  mine  endless 

fits ; .  i.  239 

O  Then  Desire,  Father  of  Jouissance,        .  ii.  159 

O  then  love  I,  and  draw  this  weary  breath,  ii.  120 

O  Thou  that  rulest  in  Ramnis  golden  gate,  i.  155 
Our  flood's  Queen,  Thames,  for  ships  and 

swans  is  crowned,    .        .                          .  ii.  197 


Out  1  traitor  Absence  !    Darest  thou  counsel 
me, i.    55 

O  what  a  life  is  it  that  Louers  joy,  .  .  i.  142 
O  what  a  wound,  and  what  a  deadly  stroke,  ii.  343 
O  whither,  poor  forsaken  I  wilt  thou  go?  .  ii.  131 
O  why  loved  I  ?  For  love,  to  purchase  hatred  I  L  193 
O  why  should  Envy,  with  sweet  Love  consort?  i.  225 
O,  why  should  nature  niggardly  restrain,  .  ii.  193 
O  would  my  loue  although  too  late  lament 

i.  153 
i.    76 


mee, 

O  you  that  hear  this  voice  1 

Painter  in  lively  colours  draw  Disdain  ! 
Pale  are  my  looks,  forsaken  of  my  life ; 
Pardoned  of  every  wicked  fact  was  he, 
Pardon  mine  ears !  both  I  and  they  do  pray, 
Parthenope  1     See  what  is  sent  1 
Pass  all!    Ah,  no  1    No  jot  will  be  omitted 
Penelope  for  her  Ulysses'  sake,  . 
Persever  ever,  and  have  never  done  ! . 
Phcebus  had  once  a  bird,  his  chief  delight 
Phcebus,  rich  father  of  eternal  light  1 
Phcebus  was  judge  between  Jove,  Mars 

and  Love ;         

Pity  refusing  my  poor  Love  to  feed,  . 
Plain  pathed  Experience  (th'  unlearned' 

guide), 

Pleading  for  pity  to  my  Mistress'  eyes; 
Poets  did  feign  that  heavens  a  Venus  had 
Poor  worm,  poor  silly  worm,  alas,  poor 

beast! 

Pride  of  our  English  Ladies  1  never  matched 
Prometheus  for  stealing  living  fire,     . 
Prometheus,  when  first  from  heaven  high, 
Proud  in  thy  love,  how  many  have  I  cited 
Prove  her!  Ah,  no!  I  did  it  but  to  love  her! 


11  409 
ii  51 
ii.  404 
i.  36 
i.  278 
i.  192 
ii.  228 
ii.  in 
ii.  407 
i-  234 

i.    17 
ii.    87 


11.  204 
i.  226 
'i;    54 


ii.  278 

i-  3*5 
ii.  100 

i.  118 
ii  163 
ii.  142 


Queen  Virtue's  Court — which  some  call 

Stella's  face — L    15 

Qui  sceptra  sasvus  duro  imperio  regit,        .  i.  117 

Raising  my  hope  on  hills  of  high  desire,  .  i.  102 

Rankle  the  wound  did  in  my  head  apace ",  ii.  369 

Read  in  my  face,  a  volume  of  despairs  !      .  ii.  128 

Ready  to  seek  out  death  in  my  disgrace,  .  ii.  93 
Reason  !  in  faith  thou  art  well  served  !  that 

still, i.    16 

Receive  sweet  Lord  1  with  thy  thrice  sacred 

hand,        .                  i.  314 

Receive  these  writs,  my  sweet  and  dearest 

Friend  1 ii.  151 

Reign  in  my  thoughts  !  fair  hand  I   sweet 

eye  !  rare  voice  ! i.    93 

Relent,  my  dear,  yet  unkind  Coelia  1  .         .  ii.  149 

Resembling  none,  and  none  so  poor  as  I,   .  ii.    22 


Index  of  First  Lines 


443 


Resolved  to  love,  unworthy  to  obtain, 
Restore  thy  treasure  to  the  golden  ore  ! 
Return  again,  my  forces  late  dismayed, 
Reveal,  sweet  Muse  !  this  secret  I 
Rich  damask  Roses  in  far  cheeks  do  bide, 
Rich  fools  there  be,  whose  base  and  filthy 

heart, 

Rich  is  the  diamond,  a  gem  of  price  ; 
Ring  out  your  bells  I  let  mourning  shows 

be  spread,  ..... 

Rivers  unto  the  sea  do  tribute  pay, 
Rocked  in  a  cradle,  like  as  infants  be, 
Rose  of  that  Garland  !  fairest  and  sweetest, 
Rough  storms  have  calms,  lopt  boughs  do 

grow  again ;...... 

Rudely  thou    wrongest    my   dear    heart's 

desire, 


ll.  79 
i.    94 

ii.  223 
i.  304 

»•  399 


1.    23 
ii.  390 


'•  133 
ii.  397 
ii.  367 

i.  316 


u.  314 
ii.  219 


Sad,  all  alone,  not  long  I  musing  sat,  .  ii.  35 
Say,  Cupid,  since  thou  wings  so  swift  dost 

bear; ii.  414 

Say,  gentle  friend,  tell  me  in  courtesy,  .  ii.  393 
Scarce    twice   seven    times   had   Phcebus' 

waggon  wheel, i.  187 

Seated  on  marble  was  my  Lady  blithe,       .  ii.  378 

See  !  how  the  stubborn  damsel  doth  deprave,  ii.  231 
Seven  are  the  Lights  that  wander  in  the 

skies, ii-    47 

Shall  I  then  silent  be,  or  shall  I  speak,  .  ii.  238 
She  comes!    and   straight   therewith    her 

shining  twins  do  move,  .  .  .  .  i.  49 
She  smild  to  see  her  sonne  in  such  a  rage,  i.  140 
Shoot  forth  no  more  those  darts  from  light- 
ning eyes  1 ii-  382 

Si  ccelum  patria  est  puer  beatum,  .  .  ii.  25 
Since  from  the  flowered  sweets  of  every 

blessedness, ii-  175 

Since   from  the  full  feed   of  thy  favour's 

lease, »•  '74 

Since  I  did  leave  the  presence  of  my  love,  ii.  259 

Since  I  have  lacked  the  comfort  of  that  light,  ii.  260 

Since  shunning  pain,  I  ease  can  never  find,  i.  109 

Since  the  first  look  that  led  mt  to  this  error,  i.  96 
Since  there's  no  help,  come,  let  us  kiss  and 

part, ii.  211 

Since  thou  hast  changed   thy  gown  and 

thine  attire  ; 'i-  375 

Since  to  obtain  thee,  nothing  me  will  stead,  ii.  188 
Sing  I  sing  Parthenophil !  sing  !  pipe  !  and 

play  1 .'.'.•  273 

Sitting  alone,  Love  bids  me  go  and  write  !  ii.  200 
'  Sleep  baby  mine,  Desire  1 '    Nurse  Beauty 

singeth,     .         .         .         •                  •         .  1.  112 

Sleep  Phcebus  still,  in  glaucy  Thetis'  lap  !  i-  228 

So  be  my  labours  endless  in  their  turns,      .  i.  185 


So  did  Parthenophe  release  mine  Heart  I  .  i.  173 
Soft,  lovely,  roselike  lips,  conjoined  with 

mine  1 i.  206 

Some  in  their  hearts  their  Mistress's  Colours 

bear, ii.  339 

Some  lovers  speak,  when  they  their  Muses 

entertain,          .         .         .         .         .         .  i.    14 

Some  men  there  be,  which  like  my  method 

well ii.  202 

Some  misbelieving  and  profane  in  Love,  .  ii.  198 
Some  praise  the  looks,  and  others  praise 

the  locks, ii.    11 

Some  say  that  women  loue  for  to  be  praised,  i.  151 
Sometimes  in  verse  I  praised,  sometimes  in 

verse  I  sigh't, ii-  113 

So  oft  as  homeward  I  from  her  depart,       .  ii.  242 

So  oft  as  I  her  beauty  do  behold,  .  -  ii-  244 
Soon  as  the  azure -coloured   Gates  of  th' 

East '■•  3°2 

Sore  sick  of  late,  Nature  her  due  would  have,  ii.  281 

So  soon  as  peeping  Lucifer,  Aurora's  star,  ii.  288 

So  this  continual  fountain  of  my  Tears,  .  i.  186 
Soul's  joy  1  bend  not  those  morning  stars 

from  me  I ••    35 

So  warble  out  your  tragic  notes  of  sorrow,  i.  198 

So,wheninrhyme,theyoftheirlovesdotell,  ii.  200 
Speak  Echo  !  tell  with  lilies,  columbines, 

and  roses, >•  27* 

Stay  speedy  Time !  behold,  before  thou  pass,  ii.  189 

Stella  is  sick,  and  in  that  sick  bed  lies,       .  i.   61 

Stella  oft  sees  the  very  face  of  woe,     .  i-    33 

Stella,  since  thou  so  right  a  Princess  art,   .  i.    64 

Stella!  the  fulness  of  my  thoughts  of  thee,  i.    36 

Stella!  the  only  planet  of  my  light !  .        .  i.    4  5 

Stella  !  think  not  that  I  by  verse  seek  fame  ;  i.    56 

Stella!  whence  doth  this  new  assault  arise'.'  i.    29 

Stella!  while  now,  by  honour's  cruel  might,  i.    56 

Still  in  the  trace  of  my  tormented  thought,  ii.  133 

Still  let  me  Hue  forlorne  and  die  disdained,  i.  146 
Strange  is  this  thing  !    My  horse  I  cannot 

make >'•  4'9 

Strike  up,  my  Lute  !  and  ease  my  heavy 

cares '••MS 

Striving  is  past  1  Ah,  I  must  sink  and  drown,  ii.  277 
Such  is  the  virtue  of  the  sunny  heat,  .  .  ii.  398 
Such  strange  effects  wrought  by  thought- 
wounding  Cupid,      i-  191 

Sweet  Beauty's  rose  !  in  whose  f.iir  purple 

leaves »•  '95 

Sweet  hand  !  the  sweet  but  cruel  bow  thou 

art! ";    88 

Sweet,  I  protest,  and  seal  it  with  .in  .  1., ih,  11.     53 

Sweet  is  the  golden  Cowslip  brin' 

fair •  .!•  ■« 

Sweet  is  the  Rose;  but  grows  upon  ft  brew,  U   '■■• 


444 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Sweet  kiss  !  thy  sweets  I  fain  would  sweetly 
endite ; i.    50 

Sweet  Lady  1  might  my  humble  Muse  pre- 
sume  i.  315 

Sweet  Laura,  in  the  water  look  no  more,    .     ii.  411 

Sweet  sang  thy  bird,  in  ebon  cage  shut  fast,     ii.  376 

Sweet  smile  !  the  daughter  of  the  Queen  of 
Love, ii.  236 

Sweet  Sovereign  !  since  so  many  minds  re- 
main  ii.    91 

Sweet  stroke  !  (so  might  I  thrive  as  I  must 

praise, ii.  273 

Sweet  swelling  lip  !  well  mayest  thou  swell 

in  pride ;  .         .         .         .         .         .         .      i.    51 

Sweet  thraldom,  by  Love's  sweet  impres- 
sion wrought,    ......      i.  240 

Sweet  warrior  !  when  shall  I  have  peace 
with  you? ii.  245 

Swift  Atalanta,  (when  she  lost  the  prize,     .      i.  253 

Swift-footed  Time  !   look  back  !  and  here 

mark  well,  .....     ii.  302 

Taking  a  truce  with  teares  sweete  plea- 
sures foe,  .  .  .  L  149 
Taking  my  pen,  with   words  to  cast  my 

woe, ii.  182 

Tears,  vows  and  prayers  gain  the  hardest 

hearts ;  >  ,  .  .  .  i.  90 
Tell  me,  my  dear,  what  moves  thy  ruthless 

mind,         .......  ii.  330 

Tell  me  of  love,  sweet  Love,  who  is  thy  sire?  ii.  2S6 
Tell  me,  when  shall  these  weary  woes  have 

end,  ........  ii.  234 

That  crimson  gown,  with  drops  of  blood 

ywrought, ii.  403 

That  day  wherein  mine  eyes  cannot  her  see,  ii.  344 
That  ivory  hand,  a  fan  most  white  doth 

hold, ii.  412 

That  learned  Father,  which  so  firmly  proves,  ii.  187 

That  time,  fair  Licia,  when  I  stole  a  kiss,  .  ii.  44 
The  banke  whereon  I  leand  my  restless 

head, i.  14S 

The  beauty,  that  in  Paradise  doth  grow,  .  ii.  364 
The  bird  of  Thrace,  which  doth  bewail  her 

rape ii-  342 

The  Blazing  Star  foretells  the  hapless  fall,  ii.  394 

The  blood  of  fair  Adonis,  Venus  changed,  ii.  398 

The  Chariot,  with  the  steed  is  drawn  along,  i.  217 

The  common  ioye,  the  cheere  of  companie,  i.  154 

The  Crow  makes  war  with  the  Chameleon,  ii.  394 

The  Cruel  Nero  used  on  golden  hook,  .  ii.  405 
The  Crystal  streams,  wherein  my  Love  did 

swim ii.    48 

The  curious  wits,  seeing  dull  pensiveness,  i.    22 

The  dewy  roseate  Morn  had  with  her  hair,  ii.      7 


The  Dial !  love,  which  shows  how  my  days 

spend, i.  203 

The  doubt  which  ye  misdeem,  fair  love,  is 

vain, ii.  249 

The  dusky  cloud  in  sky,  with  shadow  dark,  ii.  388 

The  famous  warriors  of  antique  world,  .  ii.  251 
The   fire    to   see    my   wrongs,   for   anger 

burneth, i.  no 

The  first  created  held  a  joyous  bower,        .  ii.  106 

The  flaming  torch,  a  shadow  of  the  light,  .  ii.  404 

The  fowler  hides,  as  closely  as  he  may,      .  ii.    87 

The  Gentiles  used,  in  sign  of  sacrifice,-       .  ii.  37c 

The  glorious  image  of  the  Maker's  beauty,  ii.  247 

The  glorious  portrait  of  that  Angel's  face,  ii.  225 

The  golden  tresses  of  a  Lady  fair  ;      .         .  ii.  410 

The  Grecians  used  to  offer  up  their  hair,    .  ii.  391 

The  hapless  Argus,  happy  in  this  same,  .  ii.  421 
The  heavens  begin,  with  thunder,  for  to 

break, ii.  415 

The   heavens   beheld   the    beauty  of    my 

Queen  ;     .         .         .         .         .         .         .  ii.    36 

The  heaven's  herald  may  not  make  com- 
pare,            ii.  315 

The  heavens,  their  restless  sphere  do  always 

move, ii.  400 

The  Hound,   by  eating  grass,  doth  find 

relief:        . ii.  334 

The  hunted  Hare  sometime  doth  leave  the 

Hound, i.  163 

The  immortal  Parcae,  fatal  sisters  three,   .  ii.  400 

The  last  so  sweet,  so  balmy,  so  delicious  !  .  ii.  317 

The  laurel  leaf,  which  you  thisday  do  wear,  ii.  230 

The  leafless  branches  of  the  lifeless  boughs,  i.  210 

The  little  Archer  viewing  well  my  Love,  .  ii.  303 
The  love-hurt  heart,  which  tyrant  Cupid 

wounds, ii.  314 

The  love  which  me  so  cruelly  tormenteth,  .  ii.  237 

The  Macedonian  Monarch  once  did  deign,  ii.  379 

The  merry  Cuckoo,  messenger  of  Spring,  .  ii.  226 

Then  count  it  not  disgrace  !  if  any  view  me,  i.  183 

Then  first  with  locks  dishevelled  and  bare,  i.  309 
Then  from  her  fled  my  hart   in    sorrow 

wrapped, i.  143 

Then  (from  her  Venus,  and  bright  Mercury,  i.  190 

Then  him  controlling,  that  he  left  undone,  i.  178 

The  Nightingale — assoonas  April  bringeth,  i.  in 

Then  on  the  sodaine  fast  away  he  fled,       .  i.  141 

Then  to  Parthenophe,  with  all  post  haste,  i.  173 

The  only  bird  alone  that  Nature  frames,  .  i.  90 
The  painful  smith,  with  force  of  fervent 

heat, ii.  232 

The  Panther,   knowing  that  his  spotted 

hide, ii.  243 

The  perils  which  Leander  took  in  hand,     .  ii.  333 

The  Phoenix  fair  which  rich  Arabia  breeds,  ii.  336 


Index  of  First  Lines 


445 


The  prison  I  am  in  is  thy  fair  face  !  .  .  ii.  2S5 
The  private  place  which  I  did  choose  to 

waile, i.  147 

The  proudest  Planet  in  his  highest  sphere,  i.  215 

The  raging  sea,  within  his  limits  lies  ;  .  ii.  340 
There  had  my  Zeuxis  place  and  time,  to 

draw,         . i.  177 

There  shone  a  comet,  and  it  was  full  west,  ii.  57 
There's  nothing  grieve  me,  but  that  Age 

should  haste, ii.  185 

The  richest  relic  Rome  did  ever  view,         .  ii.    94 

The  rolling  wheel  that  runneth  often  round,  ii.  225 

The  rumour  runs  that  here  in  Isis  swims,  .  ii.  7 
The  scourge  of  life,  and  death's  extreme 

disgrace i.  114 

These  amber  locks  are  those  same  nets,  my 

Dear ! i.    91 

The  sea  nymphs  late  did  play  them  on  the 

shore,         . ii.    63 

These  bitter  gusts,  which  vex  my  troubled 

seas,           . i.  222 

These  eyes  (thy  Beauty's  Tenants !)  pay  due 

tears i.  181 

These  fierce  incessant  waves  that  stream 

along  my  face, ii.    20 

These,  mine  heart  eating  Eyes  do  never 

gaze, i.  183 

These  plaintive  verse(s),  the  Posts  of  my 

desire ii.  118 

These  sorrowing  sighs,  the  smokes  of  mine 

annoy i.    89 

These  waves  no  way  in  her  to  sink  can  find  ;  ii.  340 
These  weeping  Truce-men  shew  I  living 

languish  ; ii.  332 

The  silly  bird  that  hastes  into  the  net,         .  i.  278 

The  sly  Enchanter,  when  to  work  his  will,  i.  93 
The  snakes,  amongst  themselves,  so  carefully,  ii.  412 
The  Snow-white  Swan  betokens  brightsome 

Day; ii- 413 

The  sovereign  beauty  which  I  do  admire,  .  ii.  218 

The  star  of  my  mishap  imposed  my  paining,  i.  100 

The  stately  lion  and  the  furious  bear,  .  ii.  344 
The  strongest  pine,  that  Queen  Feronia 

hath ii-  3" 

The  Sun,  his  journey  ending  in  the  west,  .  ii.    85 

The  Sun  in  Pisces     Venus  did  intend,        .  i.  224 

The  Sun,  my  Lady's  beauty  represents  !  .  i.  225 
The  sun-scorched  seaman,  when  he  sees  the 

seas, ii.  310 

The  swift  Meander,  turning,  winds  so  fast,  ii.  365 

The  tablet  of  my  heavy  fortunes  here,  .  i.  94 
The  tender  buds   whom  cold   hath   long 

kept  in, j-  *S8 

The  weary  year  bis  race  now  having  run,  .  ii.  247 

The  wisest  scholar  of  the  v.  isht  most  wise,  i.    23 


The   world   that   cannot   deem   of  worthy 

things ii.  258 

They  that  in  course  of  heavenly  spheres  are 

skilled ii.  246 

Thine  eyes,  mine  heaven !  (which  harbour 

lovely  rest, i.  200 

Thine  eye,  the  glass  where  I  behold  my 

heart, ii.    81 

Thinking  to  close  my  overwatched  eyes,  .  it.  318 
This  careful   head,  with  divers  thoughts 

distressed, i.  226 

This  day,  sweet  Mistress  !  you  to  me  did 

write, i.  241 

This  holy  season,  fit  to  fast  and  pray,  .  ii.  227 
This  night,  while  sleep  begins  with  heavy 

wings, i.    30 

Those  hairs  of  angel's  gold,  thy  nature's 

treasure, L  211 

Those  looks !  whose  beams  be  joy,  whose 

motion  is  delight ; i.    49 

Those  priests  which  first  the  Vestal  Fire 

began ii.  196 

Those  snary  locks  are  those  same  nets,  my 

Dear  I ii.  121 

Those  whose  kind   harts  sweet  pittie  did 

attaint, i.  150 

Tho  taking  in  her  lap  the  God  of  loue,       .      i.  140 
Thou  blind  man's  mark !  thou  fool's  self- 
chosen  snare ! i.  135 

Thou  bright  beam-spreading  Love's  thrice 

happy  Star ! 1-224 

Thou  canst  not  die,  whilst  any  zeal  abound,  ii.  126 
Though  be  thou  limned  in  these  discoloured 

lines, '••  '58 

Though  dusty  wits  dare  scorn  astrology  ;  .  i.  24 
Though  I  do  part,  my  heart  yet  doth  not 

part ; "-359 

Though  like  an  exile  from  mine  eyes  divorced,  ii.  164 
Though  theyaugmentorsof  my  thraldom  be:  ii.  337 
Thought!  with  good  cause  thou  likcst  so 

well  the  night  1 »•    59 

Though  you  be  fair  and  beautiful  withal  ;  .  ii.  338 
Thou  glorious  Sun  (from  whence  my  lesser 

light, "-340 

Thou  leaden  brain,  which  censur'st  what  1 

write 

Thou  (like   the  fair-faced  gold-encovered 

book ''-307 

Thou,  merry,  laugh'st,  and  pleasant 

smile I 

Thou  Pain  I  the  only  guest  of  loathe 

straint U  IIS 

Thou  poor  Heart  !  sacrificed  unto  ih.l.ui.  1,  ii  1.  • 
Thou  purblind  Hoy  I  since  thou  has* 

so  slack "•  *W 


446 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Thou  scaled  my  fort,  blind  Captain  of 
Conceit  !....... 

Thou  stranger,  who  with  wand'ring  steps 
dost  wend,        ...... 

Thou  tyrannising  monarch  that  dost  tire,  . 

Thou  wilt  persever  ever  to  disdain  me ; 

Tho  with  a  showre  of  teares  I  entertained, 

Three  playfellows  (such  Three  were  never 
seen,  ...... 


ii.  366 


11.  109 
»•  143 


.     11.  293 

Thrice  happy  she  !  that  is  so  well  assured,  ii.  246 
Through  thee,  not  of  thee,  Lady  fair  I  write,  ii.  357 
Thus,  as  She  was,  'bove  human  glory  graced,  i.  234 
Thus  is  the  second  course  now  served  in,  .  ii.  401 
Thus  long  imposed  to  everlasting  plaining,  ii.  108 
Thy  beauty  is  the  Sun,  which  guides  my  day,  i.  203 
Thy  beauty,  subject  of  my  Song  I  make  ;  .  ii.  325 
Thy  coral-coloured  lips,  how  should  I  portray,  ii.  168 
Thy  love's  conceits  are  wound  about  mine 

heart ! 

Timante,  when  he  saw  he  could  not  paint, 
To  all  those  happy  blessings,  which  ye  have, 
To  give  that  life,  which  had   not  breath 

before ;....... 

To  hear  the  impost  of  a  faith  not  feigning, 
To  live  in  hell,  and  heaven  to  behold, 
Tongue,  never  cease  to  sing  Fidessa's  praise  ! 
To  none  but  to  Prometheus,  me  compare,  . 
To  nothing  fitter  can  I  thee  compare, 
To  such  as  say,  thy  Love  I  overprize,  . 

To  this  our  world,   to  Learning,  and  to 

Heaven ;....,.. 
To  win  the  Fort,  how  oft  have  I  assayed  ! 
Truce,  gentle  Love  !  a  Parley  now  I  crave  1 
True  are  my  thoughts;  my  thoughts  that 

are  untrue, ii.     67 

Trust  not  the  treason  of  those  smiling  looks,  ii.  240 
Turned  to  a  stone  was  he  that  did  bewray,  ii.  361 
'Twill  grieve  me  more  than  if  thou  didst 

disdain  me, ii.  112 

Two  winds,  one  calm,  another  fierce,  to  see  ;  ii.  392 

Unbare  that  ivory  hand  !  Hide  it  no  more  !  ii.  417 
Uncivil  sickness  !  hast  thou  no  regard  !  .  ii.  89 
Unhappy  day !  unhappy  month  and  season  !  ii.  104 
Unhappy  pen  !  and  ill  accepted  papers  !  .  ii.  134 
Unhappy  sentence  !  Worst  of  worst  of  pains,  ii.  26S 
Unhappy  sight!  And  hath  she  vanished  by?  i.  63 
Unquiet  thought !  whom  at  the  first  I  bred,  ii.  217 
Unrighteous  Lord  of  Love,  what  law  is  this,  ii.  221 
Unto  an  Image  may  I  right  compare,  .  ii.  396 
'Unto  nobody'  my  woman  saith,  'she  had 

rather  a  wife  be, i.  117 

Unto  the  boundless  Ocean  of  thy  beauty,  .  ii.  117 
Unto  the  fountain,  where  fair  Diana  chaste,  ii.  329 
Unto  the  Muses,  I  resign  my  scroll,   .         .     ii.  169 


1.  231 
ii.  423 
ii.  249 

ii.  362 
i.  101 

ii.  101 
ii.  280 
i.  205 
ii.  186 
ii.  195 

ii.  190 
ii.  146 
ii.  212 


Unto  thy  favour  (which  when  Nature  formed,  ii.  373 

Upon  a  holy  Sainte's  Eve,  i.  276 

Upon  triumphant  chariot,  'passing  rare,    .  ii.  364 

Vain  gallants  !  whose  much  longing  spirits 

tickle ; i.  227 

Venemous  tongue,  tipp'd  with  vile  adder's 

sting, ii.  259 

Venus  aloud,  for  her  son  Cupid  cried,         .  i.  268 

Venus  and  young  Adonis  sitting  by  her,  .  ii.  266 
Vext   with   th'  assaults  of  thy  conceived 

beauty, i.  176 

Virtue  !  alas,  now  let  me  take  some  rest,  .  i.  13 
Vouchsafe,  thrice  valiant  Lord  !  this  Verse 

to  read, i.  314 

Vulcan,  in  Lemnos  Isle i.  293 

Was  it  a  dream,  or  did  I  see  it  plain,         .  ii.  255 

Was  it  decreed  by  Fate's  too  certain  doom,  i.  249 

Was  it  the  work  of  Nature  or  of  Art,           .  ii.  227 

Was  never  eye  did  see  my  Mistress's  face,  ii.  284 
Weak    is  th'  assurance    that   weak    flesh 

reposeth, ii.  245 

Weary  of  love,  my  Thoughts  of  Love  com- 
plained,    ......  ii.  103 

Weary  was  Love,  and  sought  to  take  his  rest,  ii.  35 
Weary  with  serving,  where  I  naught  could  get,  ii.  315 
Weep  now  no  more  my  eyes ;  but  be  you 

drowned,  . ii.  280 

Weigh  but  the  Cause  !  and  give  me  leave 

to  plain  me, i.    96 

Well  may  my  soul,  immortal  and  divine,  .  ii.  279 
Were  words  dissolved  to  sighs,  sighs  unto 

teares i.  162 

What  be  those  hairs  dyed  like  the  marigold?  i.  220 
What  can  these  wrinkles  and  vain  tears 

portend i.  211 

What  changes  here,  O  hair  !        .         .         .  i.  131 

What  cruel  star,  or  fate,  had  dominion,  .  ii.  339 
What  dost  thou  mean,  to  cheat  me  of  my 

heart? ii.  207 

What  fair  pomp  have  I  spied  of  glittering 

Ladies ;     .                  i.  104 

What  guile  is  this,  that  those  her  golden 

tresses, ii.  235 

What!  have  I  thus  betrayed  my  liberty?  .  i.    34 

What  is  the  Fair,  to  whom  so  long  I  plead  ?  ii.  148 
What  may  be  thought  of  thine  untowardness,  ii.  149 
What  may  words  say,  or  what  may  words 

not  say  : i.    28 

What  need   I   mourn  ?    Seeing  Pan,   our 

Sacred  King ii.  328 

What !      Shall    I    ne'er    more    see    those 

Halcion  days  ! ii.  172 

What  She  can  be  so  cruel  as  my  Love,       .  ii.  306 


Index  of  First  Lines 


447 


What  sugard  terms,  what   all-persuading 

art ii.  303 

What  time  fair  Titan  in  the  zenith  sat,  .  ii.  331 
What  time,  with  brow,  the  Loveliest  'gins 

to  scowl ; ii.  368 

What  viewed  I,  Dear  1  when  I  thine  eyes 

beheld? ii.  107 

When  as  her  lute  is  tuned  to  her  voice,      .  ii.    49 

When  as  I  mark  the  joy  of  every  wight,     .  i.  163 

When  as  I  wish,  fair  Licia,  for  a  kiss,        .  ii.    51 

When  as  my  Licia  sailed  in  the  seas,  •        .  ii.    49 

When  as  my  Love  lay  sickly  in  her  bed,  .  ii.  46 
When  as  the  Golden  Waggoner  had  prayed,  ii.  161 
When  broad-faced  rivers  turn   unto  their 

fountains, ii.  308 

When  Chloris  first,  with  her  heart-robbing 

eye, ,  ii.  348 

When  clear  hath  been  thy  brow,  and  free 

from  wrinkle, ii.  171 

When  conquering  Love  did  first  my  Heart 

assail ; ii.  195 

When  far-spent  night  persuades  each  mortal 

eye, i.    60 

When  first  I  ended,  then  I  first  began  ;       .  ii.  212 

When  first  I  heard  thy  loves  to  Laya,  .  ii.  151 
When  first  the  cruel  Fair  deigned  graciously,  ii.  387 
When  first  the  feathered  god  did  strike  my 

heart, ii.  301 

When  first  the  Sun  did  shine  upon  her  eyes,  ii.  387 
When  first  the  Sun,  whom  all  my  senses 

serve, ii.    60 

When  Flora  vaunts  her  in  her  proud  array,  ii.  306 
When  from  the  tower  whence  1  derive  love's 

heaven, ii.  158 

When  I  behold  that  beauties  wonderment,  ii.  228 

When  I  did  part  from  thee  the  other  night ;  ii.  385 
When  I  did  part,  my  soul  did  part  from  me,  ii.  422 

When  I  did  think  to  write  of  war,  .  .  i.  282 
When  I  more  large  thy  praises  forth  shall 

show,         .         .                 .         .         •         •  ii-  347 

When  I,  of  my  sweet  Laura  leave  did  take  ;  ii.  420 

When  I  remember  that  accursed  night,  .  i.  254 
When  I  the  hooks  of  pleasure  first  devoured,  ii.  290 

When  I  waked  out  of  dreaming,         .        .  i.  236 

When  I  walk  forth  into  the  Woods,    .         .  i.  271 

When  I  was  forced  from  Stella  ever  dear —  i.  54 
When  I  was  young,  indued  with  Nature's 

graces ;......  i.  202 

When  last  mine  eyes  dislodged  from  thy 

beauty, ii.  176 

When  leaden-hearted  sleep  had  shut  mine 

eyes »•  3'3 

When  like  an  Eaglet,  I  first  found  my  love,  ii.  209 
When  Love  had  first  besieged  my  heart's 

strong  wall,               ii-  3°4 


When   lovely   wrath,    my   Mistress'   heart 

assaileth i.  184 

When  Love,  puft   up  with   rage  of  high 

disdain, i.  no 

When  men  shall  find  thy  flower,  thy  glory 

pass : ri.  125 

When  my  abodes  prefixed  time  is  spent,  .  ii.  339 
When  my  good  angel  guides  me  to  the  place,  i.  41 
When  my  sun,  Cupid,  took  his  next  abiding,  i.  191 
When  nature  makes  her  chief  work — Stella's 

eyes ; i.    14 

When  neither  sighs  nor  sorrowes  were  of  force,  i.  157 
When    never-speaking    silence    proves    a 

wonder,     .......     ii.  286 

When   Night    returns    back   to    his   ugly 

mansion ii.  311 

When  none  of  these,   my  sorrows  would 

allege  ; i.  176 

When  once  I  saw  that  no  intreats  would 

move  her  ;.,....     ii.  148 
When    She    was    born ;    She  came,   with 

smiling  eye, ii.  406 

When  she  was  born,  whom  I  entirely  love,  ii.  347 
When  silent  sleep  had  closed  up  mine  eyes,  ii.  273 
When  sorrow,  using  mine  own  fire's  might,  i.  65 
When  tedious  much,  and  over  weary  long,  ii.  107 
When  thine  heart-piercing  answers  could 

not  hinder,        ......      i.  190 

When  this  celestial  goddess  had  indued,  .  i.  233 
When  those  renowned  noble  peers  of  Greece,  ii.  238 
When,  to  my  deadly  pleasure  ;  .  .  .  L  127 
When    we,   in    kind    embracements,    had 

agreed, ii-  '7° 

When,  with  the  Dawning  of  my  first  delight,  i.  182 
When  Winter  snows  upon  thy  golden  hairs,  ii.  126 
When  you  appear,  appears  the  Break  of  Day ;  ii.  371 
When  your  perfections    to   my   thoughts 

appear 11.    92 

Where  be  those  roses  gone,  which  sweetened 

so  our  eyes? 1.    62 

Where  first  sweet   Phillis,  whom   I   must 

adore, ii.   18 

Where  may  I  now  my  carefull  corps  conuay,  i.  153 
Where,  or  to   whom,  then,   shall  1   make 

complaint? >•  "78 

Whether  the  Turkish  new  moon  minded  he,  i.  26 
Which  I  pour  forth  unto  a  cruel  Saint.  .  ii.  333 
While  favour  fed  my  hope,  delight  with 

hope  was  brought ; i-    1- 

Whiles  these  two  wrathful  goddessesdid  rai;e,  i.  235 
Whiles,  with  strong  1  hainsof  hardy  tempered 

steel 

Whilst  uigry  Juno,  from  the  scowling  ikies;  ii  }6j 
WhiKt  by  her  eyes  pursued,  my  p 

flew  it L    97 


448 


Elizabethan  Sonnets 


Whilst  Echo  cries.  '  What  shall  become  of 

me?' ii.  ioo 

Whilst  foaming  steed  I  spur  unto  the  quick,  ii.  390 

Whilst  others  ween  sole  hopes  to  be  a  sa[l]ve,  ii.  145 
Whilst  some,  the  Trojan  wars  in  verse  recount,  i.  205 

Whilst  thus  my  pen  strives  to  eternize  thee,  ii.  203 
Whilst  yet  mine  eyes  do  surfeit  with  delight,  ii.  197 
Whilst  Youth  and  Error  led  my  wandering 

mind, ii.  118 

White  art  thou,  like  the  mountain-snow  to 

see; ii.  418 

White  was  the  orient  pearl  which,  on  a  day,  ii.  371 
Who  doth  not  know  that  Love  is  triumphant,  ii.  337 

Who  hath  ever  felt  the  change  of  love,        .  i.  126 

Who  hath  his  fancy  pleased,  i.  125 

Who  is  it  that  this  dark  night,     .         .  i.    86 

Who  joys  in  love?  The  Heart  alone,  to  see,  ii.  403 
Who  lives  enthralled  to  Cupid  and  his  flame,  ii.  20 
Who  taught  thee  first  to  sigh  Alasse  sweet 

heart, i.  164 

Who  will  in  fairest  book  of  Nature  show,  .  i.  46 
Whole  Showers  of  Tears  to  Chloris  I  will 

pour,          .......  ii.  326 

Whose  senses  in  so  evil  consort  their  step- 
dame  Nature  lays, i.    78 

Why  am  I  thus  in  mind  and  body  wounded?  i.  194 
Why  did  rich  Nature,  Graces  grant  to  thee?  i.  212 
Why  did    the  milk,   which    first  Alcides 

nourished, i.  238 

Why  didst  thou,  then,  in  such  disfigured 

guise, i.  174 

Why  do  I  draw  my  breath,  vain  sighs  to  feed  ;  i.  201 

Why  do  I  draw  this  cool  relieving  air,        .  i.  184 

Why  do  I  speak  of  joy,  or  write  of  love,     .  ii.  201 

Why  doth  heaven  bear  a  sun,     .        .        .  i.  285 

Why  doth  my  mistress  credit  so  her  glass,  i.  91 
Why  live  I,  wretch,  and  see  myjoyes  decay,  i.  151 
Why  should  a  maiden's  heart  be  of  that 

proof, ii.  318 

Why  should  I  sing  in  verse  ?     Why  should 

I  frame, ii.  122 

Why   should   I   weep   in    vain,    poor    and 

remedyless, i.  307 

Why  should  your   fair    eyes,   with    such 

sovereign  grace,        .         .         .         .         .  ii.  202 

'  Why  thus  unjustly,'  say,  my  cruel  fate  !   .  ii.    94 

Wilt  thou  be  still  unkind,  and  kill  me  so?  .  ii.  no 
Wilt  thou  know  wonders,  by  thy  beauty 

wrought? i.  222 

Winged  with  sad  woes,  why  doth  fair  Zephyr 

blow, ii.  270 

With  fools  and   children,  good   discretion 

bears, ii-  192 

With  gold  and  rubies  glistereth  her  small 

hand  ;.......  ii.  409 


I  With  grievous  thoughts  and  weighty  care 

opprest, ii.  147 

With  how  sad  steps,  O  moon  !  thou  climb'st 

the  skies  ! i.    26 

With  humble  suit,  upon  my  bended  knee,  .  i.  246 
Within  thine  eyes,  mine  heart  takes  all  his 

rest !  .......      i.  220 

With  patience  bearing  Love's  captivity,  .  ii.  341 
With  thousand  bands  of  furious  inward  heat,  ii.  420 
With  what  sharp  checks  I  in  myself  am  shent,  i.  2c 
Woe,  having  made  with  many  fights  bis  own,  i.  39 
Woe  to  mine  eyes  !  the  organs  of  mine  ill ;  ii.  90 
Woe  !  woe  to  me  !  On  me,  return  the  smart  1  i.  114 
Wonder  it  is,  and  pity  is 't,  that  she,  .  .  ii.  86 
Work !  work  apace,  you  blessed  Sisters  three !  ii.  290 
Would  God  !  (when  I  beheld  thy  beauteous 

face, i.  210 

Write  !  write  !  help  !  help  sweet  Muse  !  and 

never  cease !      .         .         .         .         .  i.  180 

Ye  heralds  of  my  heart,  mine  ardent  groans,  ii.  12 
Ye  modern  Laureates,  famoused  for  your 

writ,  . ii.  155 

Ye  tradeful  merchants,  that  with  weary  toil,  ii.  224 

Ye  wastef.il  woods,  bear  witness  of  my  woe  !  ii.  335 

Yea,  but  uncertain  hopes  are  Anchors  feeble,  i.  181 

Yea,  that  accursed  Deed,  before  unsealed,  i.  170 
Years,  months,  days,  hours,  in  sighs  I  sadly 

spend ii.    50 

Yet  give  me  leave,  since  all  my  joys  be 

perished, i.  174 

Yet  none  shall  equal  me  in  my  demerit,      .  ii.  173 

Yet  read  at  last  the  Story  of  my  Woe  !  .  ii.  208 
Yet  sighs  !  dear  sighs  !  indeed  true  friends 

you  are, i-    58 

You  best  discerned  of  my  mind's  inward  eyes,  ii.  209 

You  better  sure  shall  live,  not  evermore,     .  i.  116 
You  cannot  love,  my  pretty  Heart !  and  why?  ii.  190 
You  Fauns  and  Silvans,  when  my  Chloris 

brings,     .......  ii.  327 

You  loathed  fields  and  forests,     .         .         .  i.  288 

You  lofty  Pines,  co-partners  of  my  woe,      .  ii.  327 

You  sacred  sea  nymphs  pleasantly  disporting,  ii.      3 

You  secret  vales!  you  solitary  fields,  .         .  ii.    97 

You  that  do  search  for  every  purling  spring,  i.    18 

You  that  embrace  enchanting  Poesy,          .  ii.  349 

You  that  with  allegory's  curious  frame,      .  i.    25 

You  whom  the  World  admires  for  rarest  style,  ii.  324 

You  're  not  alone  when  you  are  still  alone,  ii.  186 
Your   words,   my  friend  !   (right  healthful 

caustics !)  blame,      .        .        .        .        .  i.    21 
Youth,  full  of  error  !  whither  dost  thou  hail 

me? i.  244 

Youth's  wanton  Spring,  when  in  the  raging 

Bull, L  194 


Edinburgh  :  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  His  Majesty 


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