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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. 



&n Cngltsf) (garner 








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



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



*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 


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. 


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 

[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 ° d s g 9 e 3 :] P HILL IS. 3 


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 


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 
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." 



- 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. 


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 
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 


H PALE and dying infant of the spring, 
How rightly now do I resemble thee ! 
That self same hand that thee from stalk did 
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. 


IT IS not death which wretched men call dying, 
But that is very death which I endure, 
When my coy-looking nymph, her grace 
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. 


L Lodge. 


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 

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 hery 1 love, who now in heart lament it. 

1 i.e. praise. 


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. 

1 593- J 

P H I L L 1 S. 


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. 


He rumour runs that here in Isis swim 
Such stately swans so confident in dying, 
That when they feel themselves near Lethe's 
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. 





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. 


^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 
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 


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. 


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. 




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! 


S WHERE two raging venoms are united, 

Which of themselves dissevered life would 

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. 

»593- J 

P H I L L I S. 





Hou tyrannising monarch that dost tire 

My love-sick heart through those assaulting 

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. 


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 
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 




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

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. 


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 
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 


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 ! 


|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. 


P H I L L IS. 



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. 


'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. 

1593- J 




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. 


[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 
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. 


P II I L L I S. 


I .edge. 


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. 


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 
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. 


P H I L L 1 S. 



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


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 °, d 5 £ 


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. 


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. 


P H I L L I S. 



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

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. 


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 ^: 


|l [ESE fierce incessant waves that stream along- my 
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 

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

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 


|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 
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. 


|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. 


L 1593- 


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, 


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, 


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 ? 


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 f RE Ep ISTLE 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 


2 9 

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. 



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 

i L s93-] T° the Reader. 


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. 


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 
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 


L I C I A. 



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. 


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. 


Fletcher, LL.D 



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. 


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. 



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. 


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 


|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. 


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. 

L I C I A. 



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 ! 


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 


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. 


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 


L I C I A. 



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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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. 


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. 


'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 


[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. 


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. 

4 6 LlC I A [G. Fletcher, LL.D. 


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. 


[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. - 

L 1 C I A. 



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. 


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 

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. 


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 ! 


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. 

L /CIA. 



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 
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. 


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 


L I C I A. 

t G 

Fletcher, LL.D 



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 ! 


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 I C I A. 



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. 


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 


L I C I A. 

[G . 

Fletcher, LL.D. 


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. 


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 
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 



I C I A. 



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. 


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. 


|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. 


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 


(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. 


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 ! 


|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. 



L I C 1 A. 



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. 


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. 


L I C I A. 


Fletcher, LL.D. 


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. 


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."] 

L I I A. 



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. 


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 


L i c 1 a. 


Fletcher, LL.D. 


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. 


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. 


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. 



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 
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. 


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\ ! 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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 ! 


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. -i _ 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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. 


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


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. 

6 7 

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. 

7 o 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. 


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." 


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


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, 
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 ! 


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." 




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. 


Printed by lames Roberts for 

Richard Smith. 



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


[*'.<?. 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. 





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 ; 
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 . 




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. 


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+. 


|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 


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 




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 


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 


D I A N A . 

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


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. 


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 •? 


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. 


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 ! 


D I A N A . 

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



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!" 



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 




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. 


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. 


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 . 



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. 


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 


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. 


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. 


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

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



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 

]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, 


|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 ! 


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 



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 


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 


Hen your perfections to my thoughts appear, 
They say among themselves, " 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! 


^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 . 


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 ! 


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- 


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. 


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 . 


[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 



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. 

9 6 

D I A N A . 

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



\ 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. 


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 . 



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. 


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 

9 8 

D I A N A. 

"H. Constable and others 
?, but before 1594 


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. 


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. 



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 


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. f H-C 

f, but before 1594. 


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. 


^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. 




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 ! 



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. 


D I A N A. 

[H . 

Constable and others. 
?, but before 1594. 


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. 


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 


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 " 


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. 


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 ! " 


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 . 



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. 


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? 



D I A N A . 

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



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 


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 


?, 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. 


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- " 51 ^' 6 an ^ others. 

?, but before 1594. 


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. 


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. 


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

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


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. 


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. 


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 ? 


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 



Ers^ver ever, and have never done ! 
You weeping accent of my weary song ! 
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." 


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. 


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 ? " 


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 


Ometimes in verse I praised, sometimes in verse I 
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.- 




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 

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. 



Samuel Daniel. 

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! 

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 ' 


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. 


8fa T O 



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

of zeal ; 
Returning Thee, the tribute of my 

Which here my love, my youth, my plaints 

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. 



S. Daniel. 
- 1 1594- 


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, 
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. 


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 . 



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! 


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 

1 20 Delia. [ s f 


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. 


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 


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. 


[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 ; 



[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. 


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. 


S. Daniel. T 7") „ , 

i 1594J Delia. 123 


[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 


[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. 



"S. Daniel. 
. 1 1594- 


[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. 


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 . 



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. 


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. 


126 Delia. [ s f D ?« 


|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 




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 . 


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 ! 


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 


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. 


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. 


S. Daniel. "1 /") „ T T , 

i 1594- J JJelia. 129 


[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. 


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 


[S. I inn el 
L 1 1594- 


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. 


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~) „ , , . 

? I5 94-J Delia. 131 


[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 


[S. Daniel. 
I 1 "594- 


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. 


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-- 




[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 ! 



[S. Daniel. 
L * 1594 


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. 


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-- 




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

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. 




[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, 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. 






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. 


Printed by Adam 1 sl i p, 

for W. P. 


<< ctf 


>2f 5^ 





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. 










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 ;; 


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 ! " 




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 . 



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. 


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 ! 


C <E L 1 A . 

W. Percy. 


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 ! 


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."] 

C (E 

L I A 



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. 


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?" 

i 4 6 Cm li a. L wr ^'. 


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 N NET XI. 


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 


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

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. 


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. 


C (E L I A 




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 


[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. 



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 ! 


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." 


C (E L I A 





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 ! " 


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."] 

C <E L I A , 



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 ! 


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 


O or 7i i di viene la sera, 

Mysus et Hcemonia juvenis qui cus 

tide vulnus senserat, hac ipsa 

cuspide sen sit opem. 


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




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 
theme befitting high-Mused ASTROPHIL ! 


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! 





Ulled in a heavenly Charm of pleasing 
Passions ; 
Many their well-thewed rhymes do fair 
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 ,, 


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 . 


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 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. 


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. 


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 ! 


Z E P II E R I A . 


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 ! 

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! 



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 

! 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 ! 
well it fits lovers to sympathise ! 

Hold thou the spoils of Fame, for thine inheritance ! 
Thy love, to me is sweetest chevisance ! 

t ? , S9 4.] Zepiieria. 167 


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 


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 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 ! 



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 , 


|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 ! 


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. 


? T , 59 J 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 ! 


|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 


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 ! 


| 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 . 


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 


Z E P II E R I A . 

J 159+ 

t Ksta 


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 ! 


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-. 


I A 


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 ! " 


§]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 . 


1 159-1 

] Z E P II E R I A . 

C A N Z O N 38. 


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 



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. 




D E A . 

I N 

S I X T Y-T H R E E 


B Y 

Michael Drayton, 



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. 



[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 
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 


LM. Drayton. 



[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 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 



[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 ! 


[First printed in T599 (No. 8), and in all later editions.] 



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 


1 34 


T.M. Drayton. 
L 1594-1619. 


[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. 


[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 




[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 


[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. 


[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 



E A 



[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, 





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 


[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. 


[88 Idea. PSES 


[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. 


[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 
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." 

lyton. "I 


E A 



[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. 


[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. 


[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. 


[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. - ] 




[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 


[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 


[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 ! 


[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." 


Id e a. 



[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 


{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< 


*94 Idea. L^SSS 


[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. 


[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 


[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. 


[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. 



E A 

"M. Drayton. 
. 159416:9. 


[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 ! 


[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 


[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 ! 


[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 


[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. 


[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 •? ' 


[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 ! 


[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 ! 



[M. Drayton. 

[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. 


[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 . 


[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. 


[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. 


[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 ! 


[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."] 


E A 


[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 ! 


[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. 

2 04 Idea. VSSSZ 


[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 ! 


[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 


[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. 


[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! 

2 o6 Idea. PASSES 


[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. 


[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."] 

Id e a 



[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. 


[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 


[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 ! 


[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, 


[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 th e 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. 


[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. 


Id e a . 

[M. Drayton. 

[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. 


[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 

Id e a. 

21 1 


[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 


[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. [ M I ? rv 



[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. 


[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 ! 




JVritten not long Jince 

by Edmunde 

Woodcut of 
the publisher's 


with his motto : 

Veritas tua et 

usque ad 


Printed for William 
Ponfonby. 1595. 



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. 


| 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 ! 




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. r F " Sp T Q e L 

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. 


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 N. 2IO, 


]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. 


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. [ ESp T 5 S 95: 

Air eyes ! the mirror of my mazed heart, 
What wondrous virtue is contained in you, 
The which both life and death forth from you 

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. 


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. 


2 2 1 


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. 


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 N. [ E " Sp "JJ 


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. 


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 N. 223 


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. 


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 " 5 s |5. 

E tradeful Merchants, that, with weary toil, 
Do seek most precious things to make your 

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. 


|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 


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. 


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 ^£ 



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 ! 


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 N. 227 


As it the work of nature or of art, 

Which tempered so the feature of her face, 
That pride and meekness, mixed by equal 

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 ! 


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- s P e i nset ; 


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. 


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 




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. 


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 ! 


230 Amorbtti and Epithalamion. [ E Sp T s s 9 c s: 

AlR Proud ! now tell me, why should fair be 
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 


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 N. 23 1 


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. 


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. 


232 Amoretti and E pith alam ion. [ R - s P e ; 

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. 


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.S P ensjr.j A MO RET TI AND EriTHALAMlON. 2\ 


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. 


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. [ ESpe I n jgs: 


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. 


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 N. 235 


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 ! 


RlON, when, through tempest's cruel wrack, 
He forth was thrown into the greedy seas ; 
Through the sweet music, which his harp did 

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 ?* 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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 ^' 

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. 


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 :;::: . ■ 

A'.z \ . - 

Your goodly self for evermore to view : 


- : 

,. . . 

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, 

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s : : it : ; i : 

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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. 


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Enough it is for or.e man to : 
The e : : rrr. : - h i : h ; h e ire : r rre : : : r n r 

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240 Amoretti and Epithalamion. [ ESpe " 5 s g 

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. 


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 N. 24 1 


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. 


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 



JO I not see that fairest images 

Of hardest marble are of purpose made, 
For that they should endure through many 

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. 


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 )| 




He Panther, knowing that his spotted hide 
Doth please all beasts, but that his looks them 

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. 


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 


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 


.-_ . 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 

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 


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. 


£-. her thai is jr.: si ass 

Eak is :h' assurance that weak flesh reposeth 
In her own power, and scorneth other s 

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 


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. 


HEY, that in course of heavenly spheres are 
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 N. 2tf 


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. 


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 


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. 



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 N. 249 


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. 


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.* 

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. 



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.S P enser.j A&10RETTI AND E P I T H A L A M 1 N. 251 


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. 


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 ^; 


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. 


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 

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. 



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. 


[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 

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 N. [*" Spe %£ 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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. 



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. 


[Fter so long a race as I have run 

Through Faery land, which those six books 

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 ' Spe x n 595.'] Amoretti and Epithalamion. 



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. 


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. [ ES P e [ 



[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. 


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 

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 

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 ! 


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 Sp T 5 S 9s. 

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. 


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 


£ kind. 


£ By B. GRIFFIN, Gent. 




Printed by the Widow Orwi n, 

for Matthew Lownes. 



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. 


-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 - 




Fertur Fortunam Fortuna favere ferenti. 

Idessa fair ! long live a happy maiden ! 
Blest from thy cradle, by a worthy 
High-thoughted, like to her, with bounty 
• laden, 
Like pleasing grace affording, one and 
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 . [ BCi 7 s ffi 9 £ 


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. 


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. 
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 . 


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 ! 


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 Cr lf 9 t 


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 ? 


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 ' Gr S] Fid ess a. 269 


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 ! 


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 - 



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 ? 


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 ! " 

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 , ^ „ „ „ 

i 59 6.J -T 1 D E S S A . 



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 


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 



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. 


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 . 

2 r: 

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. 


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 


F I D E S S A . 

"B. Griffin. 


, 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 ! 


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 


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 


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 ! 

2 7 6 

F I D E S S A . 

LB. Griffin. 


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 ! 


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 ! 

G S:] FlDESSA. 27? 


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. 

see, my case, herself doth now behold ! 
The casement open is ! She seems to speak ! 

But She is gone ! 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. 


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. [ BGr S: 


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 ! 


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, 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 ) 5 ffi 9 6.] FlDESSA. 279 


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 ! " 


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 
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 ! 


Fid e s s a . 

[~B. Griffin. 


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 ! " 


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! 

BGr S] Fid ess a. 281 


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. 


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£ 


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 


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 
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 



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 


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. 

28 4 

Fid e s s a . 

[~B. Griffin 



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. 


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 

Fid e s s a . 


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. 


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 


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 ; 


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."] 

Fid e s s a 



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 ! 


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. [ BGr S 


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! 


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 



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 ! 

life ! no life to me, but misery ! 
Of shame or death (if thou must one ?), 
Make choice of death ! and both are gone. 


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 Gr I I 5 ^ 


JJHen I the hooks of pleasure first devoured, 

Which undigested, threaten now to choke me ; 
Fortune on me, her golden graces showered . 

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 ! 


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."] 

F I D E S S A . 




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 " 


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 - 




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. 


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 - Gl S0 FlDESSA. 293 


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. 


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 ! 


Fid e s s a 

"B. Griffin. 


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 ! 


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 

F I D E S S A . 



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 ! 


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 ! 


Fid e s s a . 

U. Griffin. 


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. 


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, 


By R. L.) Gentleman. 

Ben balla, a chi fortuna suona. 


Printed for Henry Olney, and are to be sold at 

his shop in Fleet street, near the Middle Temple Gate, 



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. 


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 

Your Ladyship's 

in all duty, 

Henry O l n e y. 




Hen first the feathered god did strike my 
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 

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 ^ 


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. 


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 


Hat sugared terms, what all-persuading art, 

what sweet mellifluous words, what wounding 
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 


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 - Ltin S! 


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 ! 


[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 . 


J U D 

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 ! 


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 
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. 


;o6 D I ELL a . [ R - Llin ^! 


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. 


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 

D I E L L A . 



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 ! 


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 ?* 


[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. 


Hen broad -faced rivers turn unto their fountains 
and hungry wolves devoured are by sheep ; 

When marine dolphins play on snow-tipped moun- 

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 

D I E L L A . 



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 ! " 


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. 


D I E L L A . 

[~R. L[inche?) 
L 1596. 


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. 


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| 

D I E L L A . 


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), 
" 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." 


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 * B gg 


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 ! 


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"] 

D I E L L A . 313 


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 ! 


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. 


D 1 E L L A . 

"R. L[inchef] 

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. 


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. 




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. 


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. 


D I E L L A 

("R. L[inche?] 


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. 


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 . 



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 ! 


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[inC S. 


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 ! 


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 . 


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 ! 



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. 


D I E L L A . 

"R. L[inche?] 


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. 


[This is a Preface to the Poem of Diego and Gyneura, which was originally included 
in the same volume as the Diella Sonnets.] 


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, 


The Complaint of the 

passionate despised 


By William Smith, 



Imprinted at London^ 

by Edmund Bollifant. 

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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. 

3 2 4 

71? all Shepherds in general. 

Ou whom the World admires for rarest style, 
You which have sung the Sonnets of True 

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, 



Ourteous Calliope, vouchsafe to lend 
Thy helping hand to my untuned Song ! 
And grace these Lines, which I to write 

Compelled by love which doth poor Corin 

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. 


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. 



I"W. Smith. 

L 1596- 


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 ! 


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."! 

C H L O R I S. 



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 


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. 



"W. Smith. 


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 
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. 


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. 

6. J 

C H L O R I S. 



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. 


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 ? 



"W. Smith 


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. 


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. 

] C H L O R I S. 3 

A Dream. 


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. 


"W. Smitn. 


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| 



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. 



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 ! 


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? 



"W. smith. 


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. 


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. - ] 




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." 


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. 



r\V. Smith 
L i59 6 - 


[For similar ' Echo ' poems, see vol. i. pp. 220-1, 273-5, 301, and vol. ii. p. 148 su/ra)- 

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 

Such precious balm of comfort to my 

That casting off despair, in hope to live, 

1 may find help at length to ease my 

So shall you add such courage to my love, 
That fortune false, my faith shall not 


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. 


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. - ] 

C H L O R 1 S. 

1 1 -I 


tm 1 


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. 


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 


C H L R 1 S. 


("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. 


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."] 




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. 


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. 


C II L R I S. 

"W. Smith. 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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 !" 



"W. Smith. 


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. 


^[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 




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. 


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. 



TW. Smith. 

L 1596 


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. 


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 


[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. 


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. 



~W. Smith. 


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. 


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."] 

C H L O R 1 S. 




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. 


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 ' b xs£ 


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. 

CHLORIS, if thou then sawest them and me, 

1 am sure thou would'st both pity them and me ! 


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. 



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. 


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 



XX xx 
























































XX xx 






The Toys of a Traveller : 


The Feasl of Fancy. 

Divided into Three Parts. 

R[obert] T[ofte], 


Pocafavilla gran Jiamma seconda. 


Printed by Valentine Simmes. 



xx xx 







































.w. .v '. 

V x- V X- 









.xX * A 







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 *' 



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. 


To the Gentle, and Gentlemen, Readers 

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 - ^ 


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.] 


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 < 


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. 



to ever-conquering 

Ortune, cross-friend 
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 ! 



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. 


3 6 ° 

L a u r a. — Part I. 

"R. Tofte, &c. 


| 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. 




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. 


Part I. — L aura. 



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. 



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 

3 62 

L a u k a. — Part I. 

R. Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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. 



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, 


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 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part I. 

t K - 

Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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." 

Part I. — L a u r 



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. 


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. 


L a u r a — Part I. 

R. Tofte, ftc. 



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. 


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. 


Pari I. — L aura. 



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. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part I. 

'R. Tofte, &c. 


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 ! 


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." 

Part I. — L aura. 



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. 



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 
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) 


L a u r a — Part I. 


Tofte, &c 
1 597 


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 


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. 


Part I. — L aura. 



HlTE was the orient pearl which, on a day, 
That hand me gave : which scorns the proud 

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 ? " 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part I. 

[E . 

Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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. 


R. Tofte, &c."| 

Part I. — L aura. 



|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. 


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 
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. 


L a u r a. — Part I. 

■R. Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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. 



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]. 


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. 



L a u r a. — Part I. 


Tofte, Sic. 


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. 


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 


Part I. — L aura. 



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. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part I. 

[R . 

Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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. 



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 

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. 



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. 


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 ^. 


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. 



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. 

Part II. — L aura. 



?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. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

"R. Tofte, &c. 


|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. 


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.~] 

Part II. — L aura. 


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. 


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 <) 


L a u r a. — Part II, 


Tofte, Sx 

£cA rS 


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. 



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.- 

Part II. — L aura. 



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. 


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 



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. 


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." 

Part II. — L aura. 

;8 9 


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. 


■\ 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. 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

"R. Tofte. &c. 


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. 


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 


"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. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

R. Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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." 

Part II. — L aura. 



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 
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 ! 


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." 


L a u r a. — Part 1 1 . 

"R. Tofte, &c. 


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 


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. 


Part II. — L aura. 



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. 


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 
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. 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

[R . 

Tofte, &C. 



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. 



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. 


Part II. — L aura. 



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 
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. 


IVERS unto the Sea do tribute pay. 
A 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 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

"R. Tolte &c. 


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. 


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. 



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. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part II. 

[R . 

Tofle, &c 


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 
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. 


He heavens, their restless sphere do always move. 
In thee doth move the faith, which thou didst 

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 ! 



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 



Ho joys in love ? The Heart alone, to see. 

Who languisheth in love ? The Heart 


Then is 't a thing impossible for me 

To joy or languish : since I Heart have 


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. 



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. 


L a u r a. — Part III. 

[R .T 

ofte, &c. 


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. 


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.~ 


Part III. — L a u r a. 



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 ! 



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 ! 


Laura. — Part III. 

"R. Tofte, &c. 


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. 


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 


Part III. — L aura. 



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 

When love, for hate ; and not for like, shall go. 


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. 


L a u r a. — Part III. 


Tofte, &c 


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. 


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. 

Part III. — L aura. 



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 

Of her, and of Disdain, shall show the shape. 


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 ! 


L a u r a. — Part III. 

L K 

. Tofie, &c. 


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. 


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. 



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 

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 " 


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. 


La u a a. — Part III. 

"R. Tofte, &c. 


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 ! 




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 


L a v r a. — Part III. 



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 ! 


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 ! 


L a u r a. — Part III. 

"R. Tofte, &t 


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, 


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. 


Part III. — Laura. 



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." 


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." 



L a u r a. — Part III. 

'R. Tofte, &c. 
1 597- 


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. 


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. 

Part III. — L aura. 



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. 


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. 


2 D 


Laura. — Part III. 

R. Tofte, &c. 



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. 


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.~ 

Part III. — L a u r a. 



S sacrifice unto a goddess bright, 
My heart I offered with devotion great : 
Thinking that She, Love's Temple had been 

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 ! 


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. 


42o L a ura.— Part III. [ RTof ' e iS 



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" 



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 

Part 1 1 1 . — L aura. 



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 
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 ! 


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. 


La u r a. —Part III. 

R. Tofte, it. 


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. 



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, 




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 

Deign me, for all my love, but Shadow thine ! 
Thy Substance 's too too high for fortune mine. 

R. T. 


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. 


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. 3 2 7. 33 1 - 
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., 

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. 

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 


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, 

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 

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, 

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 


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, 
28 3. 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, 

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, 

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. 

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. 


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. 

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, 

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 


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 

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, 

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. 


Elizabethan Sonnets 

Mnemosyne (Mnemosine), i. 199 ; ii. 156. 
Mollineux, Lady, lxxxi ; ii. 26, 32, 54. 
Sir Richard, Kt., lxxxi; ii. 26, 28, 

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, 

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. 

Parnassus, xxxviii ; i. 18, 51, 53 ; ii. 325, 

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- 

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 


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- 3 J 7. 3 28 - 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. 

I 9S. 2 °5> 3 OI « 

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. 

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, 

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. 


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 

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, 

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. 

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 


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, 

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. 




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 ! '■ a 43 

Behold what hap Pygmalion had, to frame, i. 93 

Being myself captived here in care, , . ii. 253 



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. 39 6 

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 





















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 


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- 3 X 7 

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, • "- 2 33 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 

























•-'9 1 

















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 


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 

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 


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. 33 a 

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 


My love lay sleeping where birds music 

My Loue more bright than Cinthias horned 

My Love was masked, and armed with a fan ; 

My matchless mistress, whose delicious 

i. 162 
ii. 46 


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 


Of this high grace, with bliss conjoined, . I ■ 

Of this world's Theatre in whi "■ M I 


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 ! 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 


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' 


Pleading for pity to my Mistress' eyes; 
Poets did feign that heavens a Venus had 
Poor worm, poor silly worm, alas, poor 


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 


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 


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 


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, >• 2 7* 

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 '■■• 


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 


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 


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 


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 


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 


Whilst uigry Juno, from the scowling ikies; ii }6j 
WhiKt by her eyes pursued, my p 

flew it L 97 


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 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 


Santa Barbara 


Series 9482 


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