eternall be And liue by vertue of his inke For by his verses he doth giue To short liude beautie aye to liue Aboue all others this is hee Which erst approoued in his song That loue and honor might agree And that pure loue will doe no wrong Sweete saints it is no sinne nor blame To loue a man of vertuous name Did neuer loue so sweetly breath In any mortall brest before Did neuer muse inspire beneath A Poets braine with finer store He wrote of loue with high conceit And beautie reard aboue hir height Then Pallas afterward attyrde Our Astrophill with hir deuice Whom in his armor heauen admyrde As of the nation of the skies He sparkled in his armes afarrs As he were dight with fierie starrs The blaze whereof when Mars beheld An enuious eie doth see afar Such maiestie quoth he is seeld Such maiestie my mart may mar Perhaps this may a suter be To set Mars by his deitie In this surmize he made with speede An iron cane wherein he put The thunder that in cloudes do breede The flame and bolt togither shut With priuie force burst out againe And so our Astrophill was slaine This word was slaine straightway did moue And natures inward life strings twitch The skie immediately aboue Was dimd with hideous clouds of pitch The wrastling winds from out the ground Fild all the aire with ratling sound The bending trees exprest a grone And sigh'd the sorow of his fall The forrest beasts made ruthfull mone The birds did tune their mourning call And Philomell for Astrophill Vnto hir notes annext a phill The turtle doue with tunes of ruthe Shewd feeling passion of his death Me thought she said I tell thee truthe Was neuer he that drew in breath Vnto his loue more trustie found Than he for whom our griefs abound The swan that was in presence heere Began his funerall dirge to sing Good things quoth he may scarce appeere But passe away with speedie wing This mortall life as death is tride And death giues life and so he di'de The generall sorrow that was made Among the creatures of kinde Fired the Phoenix where she laide Hir ashes flying with the winde So as I might with reason see That such a Phoenix nere should bee Haply the cinders driuen about May breede an ofspring neere that kinde But hardly a peere to that I doubt It cannot sinke into my minde That vnder branches ere can bee Of worth and value as the tree The Egle markt with pearcing sight The mournfull habite of the place And parted thence with mounting flight To signifie to Ioue the case What sorow nature doth sustaine For Astrophill by enuie slaine And while I followed with mine eie The flight the Egle vpward tooke All things did vanish by and by And disappeered from my looke The trees beasts birds and groue was gone So was the friend that made this mone This spectacle had firmely wrought A deepe compassion in my spright My molting hart issude me thought In streames foorth at mine eies aright And heere my pen is forst to shrinke My teares discollors so mine inke An Epitaph vpon the right Honorable sir Philip Sidney knight Lord gouernor of Flushing TO praise thy life or waile thy woorthie death And want thy wit thy wit high pure diuine Is far beyond the powre of mortall line Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath Yet rich in zeale though poore in learnings lore And friendly care obscurde in secret brest And loue that enuie in thy life supprest Thy deere life done and death hath doubled more And I that in thy time and liuing state Did onely praise thy vertues in my thought As one that seeld the rising sunne hath sought With words and teares now waile thy timelesse fate Drawne was thy race aright from princely line Nor lesse than such by gifts that nature gaue The common mother that all creatures haue Doth vertue shew and princely linage shine A king gaue thee thy name a kingly minde That God thee gaue who found it now too deere For this base world and hath resumde it neere To sit in skies and sort with powres diuine Kent thy birth daies and Oxford held thy youth The heauens made haste staide nor yeeres nor time The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime Thy will thy words thy words the seales of truth Great gifts and wisedome rare imploide thee thence To treat from kings with those more great than kings Such hope men had to lay the highest things On thy wise youth to be transported hence Whence to sharpe wars sweete honor did thee call Thy countries loue religion and thy friends Of woorthy men the marks the liues and ends And her defence for whom we labor all There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age Griefe sorow sicknes and base fortunes might Thy rising day saw neuer wofull night But past with praise from of this worldly stage Backe to the campe by thee that day was brought First thine owne death and after thy long fame Teares to the soldiers the proud Castilians shame Vertue exprest and honor truly taught What hath he lost that such great grace hath woon Yoong yeeres for endles yeeres and hope vnsure Of fortunes gifts for wealth that still shall dure Oh happie race with so great praises run England doth hold thy lims that bred the same Flaunders thy valure where it last was tried The Campe thy sorow where thy bodie died Thy friends thy want the world thy vertues fame Nations thy wit our mindes lay vp thy loue Letters thy learning thy losse yeeres long to come In worthy harts sorow hath made thy tombe Thy soule and spright enrich the heauens aboue Thy liberall hart imbalmd in gratefull teares Yoong sighes sweete sighes sage sighes bewaile thy fall Enuie hir sting and spite hath left hir gall Malice hir selfe a mourning garment weares That day their Haniball died our Scipio fell Scipio Cicero and Petrarch of our time Whose vertues wounded by my woorthles rime Let Angels speake and heauens thy praises tell Another of the same Excellently written by a most woorthy Gentleman SIlence augmenteth griefe writing encreaseth rage Stald are my thoughts which lou'd lost the wonder of our age Yet quickned now with fire though dead with frost ere now Enrag'de I write I know not what dead quick I know not how Hard harted mindes relent and rigors teares abound And enuie strangely rues his end in whom no fault she found Knowledge hir light hath lost valor hath slaine hir knight Sidney is dead dead is my friend dead is the worlds delight Place pensiue wailes his fall whose presence was hir pride Time crieth out my ebbe is come his life was my spring tide Fame mournes in that she lost the ground of hir reports Ech liuing wight laments his lacke and all in sundry sorts He was wo worth that word to ech well thinking minde A spotlesse friend a matchles man whose vertue euer shinde Declaring in his
honor wrong or scathe Of whom both life and happines he hathe It is a proofe said she of foolishnes To set that vpon chaunce which may be sure Exempt from Loue I liue in happines In which condition I will yet indure Griefes come apace we neede not them procure In the estate I liue I am content And minde not Loue in dread of discontent I know quoth I you can from Loue refraine Bicause he holds his state within your eies But I the vassall of his hard disdaine Am so deiected as I cannot rise Albeit my sute and seruice you dispise Yet giue me leaue to honor and admire Your beautie which afflicteth my desire Ther's little reason said she then to like The thing which you affirme to vexe ye so If your desire such discontentment strike Such war such anguish agonies and woe Let that fantastike I aduise ye goe The man is much desirous of vnrest That home intreates a knowne disquiet guest Excepting Loue demaund you at my hand What euer is in my abilitie And may with vertue and mine honor stand Ladie said I Loue is the Maladie And vnto Loue Loue's th'onely remedie But sith you doe herein my sute detest Then grant me this the last I shall request When haples Loue hath brought me to the graue If so at any time you passe that way Where my consuming bones their buriall haue Vouchsafe yee then for pitties sake to say As I remember heere my seruant lay Long time a Louer in affection true Whom my disdaine and rigor ouerthrew Altho yee die quoth she I will not loue And for you will not loue said I I die Then presently my spirits faild to moue Retiring backe themselues successiuelie But when she did the signe of death espie She puld she halde seruant said she abide Let not thy mistres be thy homicide If thy affections doe from Loue proceede How canst thou die and I thy liues life neere If thou doost loue and honor me indeede Why with this act dost thou defame me heere If thou esteemst my Loue and honor deere O liue and see my rigour ouerthrowne And come and take possession of thine owne And then vnable weeping to withholde She sundrie meanes assaies to make me liue My brests she strikes she rubs my temples colde And with such vehemence of labours striue As life vnto a Marble stone might giue My hand at last she amorously doth straine And with a kisse drew vp my life againe This new sprong ioy conceiued in my hart Of Loues assurance vnder hand and seale Dilated thence abroad to euery part Telling how graciouslie my loue did deale My soule and spirit swelling with this zeale So rowsed sleepe that he his holde forsooke And I through surfeit of the ioy awooke Awaked thus I presently perceiu'd The vanitie and falshood of these ioyes Finding that fond illusions had deceiu'd My ouerwatched braine with idle toyes Then I that freshly felt my first annoyes Their woonted rage within my thoughts to keepe Gan thus expostulate the cause with sleepe Thou ease of harts with burth'nous woes opprest Thou pitier of the cares of busie daie Thou friend to louers in their deepe vnrest Turning their anguishes another waie Why may not I continue with thee aie Sith that my destinie is so extreame As not to haue my good but in a dreame Why art thou not O dreame the same you seeme Seeing thy visions our contentment brings Or doe we of their woorthines misdeeme To call them shadowes that are reall things And falslie attribute their due to wakings O doe but then perpetuate thy sleight And I will sweare thou workst not by deceit And now the Morning entring at the glasse Made of these thoughts some intermission Thus haue I tolde what things in dreame did passe Vpon the former daies occasion And whence they come in mine opinion But whether they tell truth or nothing lesse I shall resolue vpon my dreames successe Excellent Ditties of diuers kindes and rare inuention written by sundry Gentlemen WEepe you my lines for sorrow whilst I write For you alone may manifest my griefe Your numbers must my endles woes recite Such woes as wound my soule without reliefe Such bitter woes as who so would disclose them Must cease to talke for hart can scarse suppose them My restles braines deuour'd by many thoughts Disclaiming ioies doth make a heauen of hell An Idoll of mislikes a God of noughts Contrarious passions on my braine doth dwell They would haue ease yet seeke for ceaslesse strife And make their cause of death their meanes of life Mine eies are dim'd by two diuine delights And through their sight my hart hath caught a wound Their lids were shut amids the lingring nights Their yeelding fountaines watring of the ground Doe ceasles run and shroud their shining ioy And drowne Content in riuers of annoy I faine to smile when as I faint for feare I dreame on ioy when as I doubt of woe I burne in fire yet still approch it neare I like of mirth yet will no solace knowe I see content yet neuer cease to sigh I liue secure yet danger passeth nigh I catch at hope yet ouertake it neuer I feede on thought yet thought doth force my end I craue repose yet finde disquiet euer I scorne aduice yet counsell is my frend I will be free yet feede on thraldome still I honor wit yet feede on foolish will Mine eies complaine the follies of my hart My hart laments the errors of mine eie My thoughts would burie endles things in art Mine eie my hart my thoughts wend all awrie Yet of my harmes ye heauens the worst is this I cannot censure what my sorrow is My life is death for no delights are in it My musike mone and yet I neuer leaue it My succour hope yet can I neuer win it My gaines report yet will I not perceiue it My foode suspect and yet I cannot slie it My foe neglect and yet I meane to trie it By day I freeze I frie I wish I wait By night I loath my rest and wish for day Both day and night my hart with doubts I bait Weying delight from cause of my decaie The Vultures that consume my tender brest Is sweete desire the cause of my vnrest Now what I am my sorie cheekes disclose Once what I was my smiling eies bewraid Now what I want coniecture by my woes Once what I scornd hath now my hart betraid Wo's me my want of helpe doth well approue The paines I feele is euen the pangs of Loue. Well be it paine Loues torments let it be Let endles thoughts consume my restles braines Let teares so choake mine eies I may not see Let toong be mute for to disclose my paines Let ioyes let hope let all contents surcease These bitter plagues my fancies shall increase No paine no fortune shall my Loue confound My spotles faith my simple truth shall proue That I my liking on no errors ground Thus will
death Loe thus I liue but looking still to die And still I looke but still I see in vaine And still in vaine alas I lie and crie And still I crie but haue no ease of paine So still in paine I liue looke lie and crie When hope would helpe or death would let me die Sometime I sleepe a slumber not a sleepe And then I dreame God knowes of no delight But of such woes as makes me lie and weepe Vntill I wake in such a pitious plight As who beheld me sleeping or awaking Would say my hart were in a heauie taking Looke as the dew doth lie vpon the ground So sits the sweate of sorow on my face Oh deadly dart that strooke so deepe a wound Oh hatefull hap to hit in such a place The hart is hurt and bleedes the bodie ouer Yet cannot die nor euer health recouer Then he or she that hath a happie hand To helpe a hart that hath no hope to liue Come come with speede and do not staying stand But if no one can any comfort giue Run to the Church and bid the Sexton toule A solemne knell yet for a filie soule Harke how it sounds that sorrow lasteth long Long long long long long long and longer yet Oh cruell death thou doost me double wrong To let me lie so long in such a fit Yet when I die write neighbors where I lie Long was I dead ere death would let me die THese lines I send by waues of woe And bale becomes my boate Which sighes of sorowes still shall keepe On floods of feare afloate My sighes shall serue me still for winde My lading is my smart And true report my pilot is My hauen is thy hart My keele is fram'd of crabbed care My ribs are all of ruthe My planks are nothing else but plants With treenailes ioinde with truthe My maine mast made of nought but mone My tackling trickling teares And Topyard like a troubled minde A flagge of follie beares My Cable is a constant hart My Anckor luckles Loue Which Reasons Capstones from the ground Of griefe can not remoue My Decks are all of deepe disgrace My Compas discontent And perill is my Northern Pole And death my Orient My Saylers are my sorowing thoughts The Boateswane bitter sence The Master miserie his mate Is dolefull diligence Sir W. H. FEede still thy selfe thou fondling with beliefe Go hunt thy hope that neuer tooke effect Accuse the wrongs that oft hath wrought thy griefe And reckon sure where reason would suspect Dwell in the dreames of wish and vaine desire Pursue the faith that flies and seekes to new Run after hopes that mocke thee with retire And looke for loue where liking neuer grew Deuise conceits to ease thy carefull hart Trust vpon times and daies of grace behinde Presume the rights of promise and desart And measure loue by thy beleeuing minde Force thy affects that spite doth daily chace Winke at the wrongs with wilfull ouersight See not the soyle and staine of thy disgrace Nor recke disdaine to doate on thy delite And when thou seest the end of thy reward And these effects ensue of thine assault When rashnes rues that reason should regard Yet still accuse thy fortune for the fault And crie O Loue O death O vaine desire When thou complainst the heate feeds the fire MY first borne loue vnhappily conceiued Brought foorth in paine christened with a curse Die in your Infancie of life bereaued By your cruell nurse Restlesse desire from my Loue that proceeded Leaue to be and seeke your heauen by dieng Since you O you your owne hope haue exceeded By too hie flieng And you my words my harts faithfull expounders No more offer your Iewell vnesteemed Since those eies my Loues life and liues confounders Your woorth misdeemed Loue leaue to desire words leaue it to vtter Swell on my thoughts till you breake that contains you My complaints in those deafe eares no more mutter That so disdaines you And you careles of me that without feeling With drie eies behold my Tragedie smiling Decke your proude triumphes with your poore slaues yeelding To his owne spoyling But if that wrong or holy truth dispised To iust reuenge the heauens euer moued So let hir loue and so be still denied Who she so loued THe brainsicke race that wanton youth ensues Without regard to grounded wisdomes lore As often as I thinke thereon renues The fresh remembrance of an ancient sore Reuoking to my pensiue thoughts at last The worlds of wickednes that I haue past And though experience bids me bite on bit And champe the bridle of a better smacke Yet costly is the price of after wit Which brings so cold repentance at hir backe And skill that's with so many losses bought Men say is little better worth than nought And yet this fruit I must confesse doth growe Of follies scourge that though I now complaine Of error past yet henceforth I may knowe To shun the whip that threats the like againe For wise men though they smart a while had leuer To learne experience at the last than neuer THose eies which set my fancie on a fire Those crisped haires which hold my hart in chains Those daintie hands which conquer'd my desire That wit which of my thoughts doth hold the rains Those eies for cleernes doe the starrs surpas Those haires obscure the brightnes of the Sunne Those hands more white than euer Iuorie was That wit euen to the skies hath glorie woon O eies that pearce our harts without remorse O haires of right that weares a roiall crowne O hands that conquer more than Caesars force O wit that turns huge kingdoms vpside downe Then Loue be Iudge what hart may thee withstand Such eies such haire such wit and such a hand PRaisd be Dianas faire and harmles light Praisd be the dewes wherwith she moists the ground Praisd be hir beames the glorie of the night Praisd be hir powre by which all powres abound Praisd be hir Nimphs with whom she decks the woods Praisd be hir knights in whom true honor liues Praisd be that force by which she moues the floods Let that Diana shine which all these giues In heauen Queene she is among the spheares In ay she Mistres like makes all things pure Eternitie in hir oft chaunge she beares She beautie is by hir the faire endure Time weares hir not she doth his chariot guide Mortalitie belowe hir orbe is plaste By hir the vertue of the starrs downe slide In hir is vertues perfect image cast A knowledge pure it is hir worth to kno With Circes let them dwell that thinke not so LIke to a Hermite poore in place obscure I meane to spend my daies of endles doubt To waile such woes as time cannot recure Where none but Loue shall euer finde me out My foode shall be of care and sorow made My drink nought else but teares falne from mine eies And for my light in such obscured shade The flames
perfections flowe Deignes not the thought of things that are so lowe To striue to alter his desires were vaine Whose vowed hart affects no other place The which since you despise I doe disdaine To count it mine as erst before it was For that is mine which you alone alow As I am yours and onely liue for you Now if I him forsake and he not finde His wretched exile succord by your eies He can not yeeld to serue anothers minde Nor liue alone for nature that denies Then die he must for other choise is none But liue in you or me or die alone Whose haples death when Fame abroad hath blowne Blame and reproch procures vnto vs both I as vnkinde forsaking so mine owne But you much more from whom the rigour groweth And so much more will your dishonor be By how much more it loued you than me Sweete Ladie then the harts misfortune rue Whose loue and seruice euermore was true SEeing those eies that with the Sun contendeth For maiestie of light and excellence A quickning pleasure secretly descendeth Into my hart by subtill influence Not seeing them horror my blisse depriueth And I as one by publike lawe conuicted Whom rigorouslie the hedsman onward driueth To shamefull death most heauily afflicted I onely liue when I behold your shining Bright stars rare lights sweete authors of my gladnes Absent from you my hart in sorrow pining Doth feede on teares on anguish griefe and sadnes Then maruell not if I desire accesse Vnto the fountaine of my happines TO shun the death my rare and chosen Iuell That couertly within your eies soiourneth I flie and flying feele the fire more cruell Wherewith offended loue my spirits burneth A death most painfull and the paine more bitter Then I returne resolued in opinion Since I must die neere or farre of tys fitter To end my life within hir eies dominion O then displaie faire Eies your influence That I into the deeper flames ascending Fall soone to ashes by hir excellence And better be contented with my ending And all remooued that my quiet hinders Rake vp both loue and life within those cinders OF all the woes my pensiue hart endureth It greeues me most when I my sorrowes frame I knowe not what this wretchednes procureth Nor whereupon I am to cast the blame The fault is not in hir for well I see I am vnworthy of hir grace in this Nor yet in loue who hath vouchsafed me To knowe within this life so rare a blisse To grieue me of my sight then comes to minde As head and author of my haples woes But better afterward aduisde I finde That onely from hir lookes all sweetnes floes And when iust cause of sorrowing doth faile I waile in fine bicause I cannot waile DIuide my times and rate my wretched howres From day to month from month to many yeeres And then compare my sweetest to my sowres To see which more in equall view appeeres And iudge if for my daies and yeeres of care I haue but howres of comfort to compare Iust and not much it were in these extreemes So hard a touch and torment of the thought For any minde that any right esteemes To yeeld so small delite so deerely bought But he that liues but in his owne despite Is not to finde his fortune by his right The life that still runs forth hir wearie waies With sowre to sawce the dainties of delite And care to choake the pleasure of hir daies And no rewarde those many wrongs to quite No blame to holde such irksome time in hate As but to losse prolongs a wretched state And so I loath euen to behold the light That shines without all pleasure to mine eies With greedie wish I wait still for the night Yet neither this I finde that may suffice Not that I holde the day in more delight But that alike I loath both day and night The day I see yeelds but increase to care The night that should by nature serue to rest Against hir kinde denies such ease to spare As pitie would affoord the soule opprest And broken sleepes oft times present in sight A dreaming wish beguild with false delight The sleepe or else what so for sweete appeeres Is vnto me but pleasure in despite The flowre of age the name of yonger yeeres Doe but vsurpe the title of delite For carefull thought and sorow sundry waies Consumes my youth before my aged daies The touch the sting the torment of desire To striue beyond the compas of restraint Kept from the reach whereto it would aspire Giues cause God knowes too iust to my complaint Besides the wrongs which now with my distresse My meaning is in silence to suppresse Oft with my selfe I enter in deuice To reconcile these wearie thoughts to peace I treat for truce I flatter and entice My wrangling wits to worke for their release But all in vaine I seeke the meanes to finde That might appease the discord of my minde For when I force a fained mirth in shoe And would forget and so beguile my greefe I cannot rid my selfe of sorow so Altho I feede vpon a false beleefe For inward touch of vncontented minde Returns my cares by course vnto their kinde Wainde from my will and thus by triall taught How for to holde all fortune in regard Though heere I boast a knowledge deerely bought Yet this poore gaine I reape for my reward I learne hereby to harden and prepare A readie minde for all assaults of care Whereto as one euen from my cradle borne And not to looke for better to ensue I yeeld my selfe and wish these times outworne That but remaine my torments to renue And leaue to those these daies of my despite Whose better hap may liue to more delite A description of Loue. NOw what is Loue I praie thee tell It is that fountaine and that well Where pleasure and repentance dwell It is perhaps that sauncing bell That tols all in to heauen or hell And this is Loue as I heare tell Yet what is Loue I praie thee saie It is a worke on holie daie It is December matcht with Maie When lustie blouds in fresh araie Heare ten months after of the plaie And this is Loue as I heare saie Yet what is Loue I praie thee saine It is a Sunshine mixt with raine It is a tooth ache or like paine It is a game where none doth gaine The Lasse saith no and would full faine And this is Loue as I heare saine Yet what is Loue I pray thee say It is a yea it is a nay A pretie kinde of sporting fray It is a thing will soone away Then take the vantage while you may And this is Loue as I heare say Yet what is Loue I pray thee shoe A thing that creepes it cannot goe A prize that passeth to and fro A thing for one a thing for mo And he that proues must finde it so And this is Loue sweet friend I troe The description
thoughts his life and that he writ Highest conceits longest foresights and deepest works of wit He onely like himselfe was second vnto none Whose deth though life we rue wrong al in vain do mone Their losse not him waile they that fill the world with cries Death slue not him but he made death his ladder to the skies Now sinke of sorow I who liue the more the wrong Who wishing death whom deth denies whose thred is al to long Who tied to wretched life who lookes for no reliefe Must spend my euer dying daies in neuer ending griefe Harts ease and onely I like parables run on Whose equall length keepe equall bredth neuer meet in one Yet for not wronging him my thoughts my sorowes cell Shall not run out though leake they will for liking him so well Farewell to you my hopes my wonted waking dreames Farewell somtimes enioied ioy eclipsed are thy beames Farewell selfe pleasing thoughts which quietnes brings foorth And farewel friendships sacred league vniting minds of woorth And farewell mery hart the gift of guiltles mindes And all sports which for liues restore varietie assignes Let all that sweete is voide in me no mirth may dwell Philip the cause of all this woe my liues content farewell Now rime the sonne of rage which art no kin to skill And endles griefe which deads my life yet knowes not how to kill Go seeke that haples tombe which if ye hap to finde Salute the stones that keepe the lims that held so good a minde The praise of Chastitie Wherein is set foorth by way of comparison how great is the conquest ouer our affections by G. P. Master of Arts. THe noble Romans whilom woonted were For triumph of their conquered enimies The wreathes of Laurell and of Palme to weare In honor of their famous victories And so in robes of gold and purple dight Like bodies shrinde in seates of Iuotie Their names renowmde for happines in fight They beare the guerdon of their chiualrie The valiant Greekes for sacke of Priams towne A worke of manhood matcht with policie Haue fild the world with bookes of their renowne As much as erst the Romane emperie The Phrygian knights that in the house of fame Haue shining armes of endles memorie By hot and fierce repulse did win the same Though Helens rape hurt Paris progenie Thus strength hath guerdon by the worlds award So praise we birth and high nobilitie If then the minde and bodie reape reward For natures dowre conferred liberally Presse then for praise vnto the highest roome That art the highest of the gifts of heauen More beautifull by wisdomes sacred doome Than Sol himselfe amid the Planets seauen Queene of content and temperate desires Choice nurse of health thy name hight Chastitie A soueraigne powre to quench such climing fires As choake the minde with smoke of infamie Champion at armes re'ncounter with thy foe An enimie foule and fearfull to behold If then stout captaines haue bene honor'd so Their names in bookes of memorie enrold For puissant strength ye Romane peeres retire And Greeks giue ground more honor there is woon With chaste rebukes to temper thy desire Than glory gaind the world to ouer run Than fierce Achilles got by Hectors spoyle Than erst the mightie prince of Macedon King Philips impe that put his foes to foyle And wisht more worlds to hold him plaie than one Beleeue me to contend ' gainst armies royall To tame wilde Panthers but by strength of hand To praise the triumph not so speciall As ticing pleasures charmes for to withstand And for me list compare with men of war For honor of the field I dare maintaine This victory exceedeth that as far As Phoebus chariot Vulcans forge doth staine Both noble and triumphant in their kindes And matter woorthie queene Remembrance pen But that that tangles both our thoughts and mindes To master that is more than ouer men To make thy triumph Sith to strength alone Of body it belongs to bruze or wound But raging thoughts to quell or few or none Saue vertues imps are able champions found Or those whom Ioue hath lou'd or noble of birth So strong Alcydes Ioues vnconquered son Did lift Achelous bodie from the earth To shew what deeds by vertues strength are don So him he foild and put to sudden flight By aime of wit the foule Stimphalides And while we say he mastered men by might Behold in person of this Hercules It liketh me to figure Chastitie His labor like that foule vncleane desire That vnder guide of tickling fantasie Would mar the minde through pleasures scorching fire And who hath seene a faire alluring face A lustie girle y clad in queint aray Whose daintie hand makes musicke with hir lace And tempts thy thoughts and steales thy sense away Whose ticing haire like nets of golden wyre Enchaine thy hart whose gate and voice diuine Enflame thy blood and kindle thy desire Whose features wrap and dazle humaine eine Who hath beheld faire Venus in hir pride Of nakednes all Alablaster white In Iuorie bed strait laid by Mars his side And hath not bin enchanted with the sight To wish to dallie and to offer game To coy to court caetera to doe Forgiue me Chastnes if in termes of shame To thy renowne I paint what longs thereto Who hath not liu'd and yet hath seene I say That might offend chaste hearers to endure Who hath bene haled on to touch and play And yet not stowpt to pleasures wanton lure Crowne him with laurell for his victorie Clad him in purple and in scarlet die Enroll his name in bookes of memorie Ne let the honor of his conquest die More roiall in his triumph than the man Whom tygres drew in coach of burnisht golde In whom the Roman Monarchie began Whose works of worth no wit hath erst controlde Elysium be his walke high heauen his shrine His drinke sweete Nectar and Ambrosia The foode that makes immortall and diuine Be his to taste to make him liue for ay And that I may in briefe describe his due What lasting honor vertues guerdon is So much and more his iust desart pursue Sith his desart awards it to be his LENVOY To thee in honor of whose gouernment Entitled is this praise of Chastitie My gentle friend these hastie lines are ment So flowreth vertue like the laurell tree Immortall greene that euere eie may see And well was Daphne turnd into the bay Whose chastnes triumphes growes liues for ay An excellent Dialogue betweene Constancie and Inconstancie as it was by speech presented to hir Maiestie in the last Progresse at sir Henrie Leighes house Constancie MOst excellent shall I say Lady or Goddesse whom I should enuie to be but a Lady and can not denie to haue the power of a Goddesse vouchsafe to accept the humble thankfulnes of vs lately distressed Ladies the pride of whose wits was iustly punished with the inconstancie of our wits whereby we were caried to
shall serue which from my hart arise A gowne of graie my bodie shall attire My staffe of broken hope whereon Ile staie Of late repentance linckt with long desire The couch is fram'de whereon my limbes Ile lay And at my gate dispaire shall linger still To let in death when Loue and Fortune will LIke truthles dreames so are my ioyes expired And past returne are all my dandled daies My loue misled and fancie quite retired Of all which past the sorow onely staies My lost delights now cleane from sight of land Haue left me all alone in vnknowne waies My minde to woe my life in fortunes hand Of all which past the sorow onely staies As in a countrey strange without companion I onely waile the wrong of deaths delaies Whose sweete spring spent whose sommer wel nie don Of all which past the sorow onely staies Whom care forewarnes ere age and winter colde To haste me hence to finde my fortunes folde A Secret murder hath bene done of late Vnkindnes founde to be the bloudie knife And shee that did the deede a dame of state Faire gracious wise as any beareth life To quite hir selfe this answere did she make Mistrust quoth she hath brought him to his end Which makes the man so much himselfe mistake To lay the guilt vnto his guiltles frend Ladie not so not feard I found my death For no desart thus murdered is my minde And yet before I yeeld my fainting breath I quite the killer tho I blame the kinde You kill vnkinde I die and yet am true For at your sight my wound doth bleede anew SOught by the world and hath the world disdain'd Is she my hart for whom thou doost endure Vnto whose grace sith Kings haue not obtaind Sweete is thy choise though losse of life be sowre Yet to the man whose youth such pains must proue No better end than that which comes by Loue. Steere then thy course vnto the port of death Sith thy hard hap no better hap may finde Where when thou shalt vnlade thy latest breath Enuie hir selfe shall swim to saue thy minde Whose bodie sunke in search to gaine that shore Where many a Prince had perished before And yet my hart it might haue been foreseene Sith skilfull medcins mends each kinde of griefe Then in my breast full safely hadst thou beene But thou my hart wouldst neuer me beleeue Who tolde thee true when first thou didst aspire Death was the end of euery such desire HIr face Hir tong Hir wit So faire So sweete So sharpe First bent Then drew Then hit Mine eie Mine eare My hart Mine eie Mine eare My hart To like To learne To loue Hir face Hir tong Hir wit Doth lead doth teach Doth moue Oh face Oh tong Oh wit With frownes With checke With smart Wrong not Vexe not Wound not Mine eie Mine eare My hart Mine eie Mine eare My hart To learne To knowe To feare Hir facc Hir tong Hir wit Doth lead Doth teach Doth sweare CAlling to minde mine eie long went about T'entice my hart to seeke to leaue my brest All in a rage I thought to pull it out By whose deuice I liu'd in such vnrest What could it say to purchase so my grace Forsooth that it had seene my Mistres face Another time I likewise call to minde My hart was he that all my woe had wrought For he my brest the fort of Loue resignde When of such warrs my fancie neuer thought What could it say when I would him haue slaine But he was yours and had forgone me cleane At length when I perceiu'd both eie and hart Excusde themselues as guiltles of mine ill I found my selfe was cause of all my smart And tolde my selfe my selfe now slay I will But when I found my selfe to you was true I lou'd my selfe bicause my selfe lou'd you WHat else is hell but losse of blisfull heauen What darknes else but lacke of lightsome day What else is death but things of life bereauen What winter else but pleasant springs decay Vnrest what else but fancies hot desire Fed with delay and followed with dispaire What else mishap but longing to aspire To striue against earth water fire and aire Heauen were my state and happie Sunneshine day And life most blest to ioy one howres desire Hap blisse and rest and sweete springtime of May Were to behold my faire consuming fire But loe I feele by absence from your sight Mishap vnrest death winter hell darke night WOuld I were chaung'd into that golden showre That so diuinely streamed from the skies To fall in drops vpon the daintie floore Where in hir bed she solitarie lies Then would I hope such showres as richly shine Would pearce more deepe than these wast teares of mine Or would I were that plumed Swan snowe white Vnder whose forme was hidden heauenly power Then in that riuer would I most delite Whose waues doe beate against hir stately bower And in those banks so tune my dying song That hir deafe ears would think my plaint too long Else would I were Narcissus that sweete boy And she hir selfe the sacred fountaine cleere Who rauisht with the pride of his owne ioy Drenched his lims with gazing ouer neere So should I bring my soule to happie rest To end my life in that I loued best WHo plucks thee down frō hie desire poor hart Who comforts thee in depth of thy distresse Amid contents who breeds thy secret smart Who seekes the meane thy sorrowes may be lesse Who calls thy wits togither to their worke Who warnes thy will to follow warie wit Who lets thee see in loue what sorrowes lurke Who makes thee feele the force of fancies fit Who taught thee first to trie before thou trust Who bids thee keepe a faithfull tried freend Who wils thee say loue wantons he that lust Who winnes the wish that hath a happie end Care then to keepe that faithfull friend in store Whose loue commands that thou shalt care no more THose eies that holds the hand of euery hart Those hands that holds the hart of euery eie That wit that goes beyond all natures Art That sence too deepe for wisdome to discrie That eie that hand that wit that heauenly sence All these doth show my Mistres Excellence Oh eies that perce into the purest hart Oh hands that hold the highest harts in thrall Oh wit that weyes the deapth of all desart Oh sence that showes the secret sweete of all The heauen of heuens with heuenly powrs preserue thee Loue but thy selfe and giue me leaue to serue thee To serue to liue to looke vpon those eies To looke to liue to kisse that heauenlie hand To sound that wit that doth amaze the wise To know that sence no sence can vnderstand To vnderstande that all the world may know Such wit such sence eies hands there are no moe WHo list to heare the sum of sorrowes state The depth of dole
of Iealousie A Seeing friend yet enimie to rest A wrangling passion yet a gladsom thought A bad companion yet a welcom guest A knowledge wisht yet found too soone vnsought From heauen supposde yet sure condemn'd to hell Is Iealousie and there forlorne doth dwell And thence doth send fond feare and false suspect To haunt our thoughts bewitched with mistrust Which breedes in vs the issue and effect Both of conceits and actions far vniust The griefe the shame the smart wherof doth proue That Iealousie's both death and hell to Loue. For what but hell moues in the iealous hart Where restles feare works out all wanton ioyes Which doth both quench and kill the louing part And cloies the minde with worse than knowne annoyes Whose pressure far exceeds hells deepe extreemes Such life leads Loue entangled with misdeemes AH poore Conceit delite is dead Thy pleasant daies are doon The shadie dales must be his walke That cannot see the sunne The world I now to witnes call The heauens my records be If euer I were false to Loue Or Loue were true to me I knowe it now I knew it not But all too late I rew it I rew not that I knew it not But that I euer knew it My care is not a fond conceit That breedes a fained smart My griefes doe gripe me at the gall And gnaw me at the hart My teares are not those fained drops That fall from fancies eies But bitter streams of strange distresse Wherein discomfort lies My sighes are not those heauie sighes That showes a sickly breath My passions are the perfect signes And very paines of death In sum to make a dolefull end To see my death so nie That sorow bids me sing my last And so my senses die SHort is my rest whose toile is ouerlong My ioyes are darke but cleere I see my voe My safetie small great wracks I bide by wrong Whose time is swift and yet my hap but sloe Each griefe and wound in my poore hart appeeres That laugheth howres and weepeth many yeeres Deedes of the day are fables for the night Sighes of desire are smoakes of thoughtfull teares My steps are false although my paths be right Disgrace is bolde and fauor full of feares Disquiet sleepe keepes audit of my life Where rare content doth make displeasure rife The dolefull bell that is the voice of time Cals on my end before my haps be seene Thus fals my hopes whose harmes haue power to clime Not come to haue that long in wish hath beene I seeke your loue and feare not others hate Be you with me and I haue Caesars state The praise of Virginitie VIrginitie resembleth right the Rose That gallantly within the garden growes Whilst in the mothers bodie it doth stand Of nibling sheep vntoucht or shepherds hand The aire thereon and ruddie morne doth smile The earth and waters fauours it that while Braue lustie youth and the inamord Dame Euen so doth age and temples craue the same But when from naturall stalke it is remou'd And place where it so highly was belou'd The grace that earth and heauen thereon did cast With beautie fauor loue and all is past Euen so the Maid when once hir flowre is lost More deere than eie or life or what is most The loue and liking which she had before Forgoeth quite and she esteem'd no more Ladies Lenuoy to you that haue this prize I reed ye hold your wone if yiou be wise ONight O ielious night repugnant to my pleasures O night so long desir'd yet crosse to my content Ther's none but onely thou that can performe my pleasures Yet none but onely thou that hindereth my intent Thy beams thy spiteful beams thy lamps that burn to brightly Discouer all my traines and naked lay my drifts That night by night I hope yet faile my purpose nightly Thy enuious glaring gleame defeateth so my shifts Sweet night withhold thy beams withhold them til to morow Whose ioyes in lack so long a hell of torments breedes Sweete night sweete gentle night doe not prolong my sorow Desire is guide to me and Loue no Loadstar needes Let Sailers gaze on stars and Moone so freshly shining Let them that misse the way be guided by the light I knowe my Ladies bowre there needes no more diuining Affection sees in darke and Loue hath eies by night Dame Cinthia couch awhile holde in thy hornes for shining And glad not lowring night with thy too glorious raies But be she dim and darke tempestuous and repining That in hir spite my sport may worke thy endles praise And when my will is wrought then Cinthia shine good Ladie All other nights and daies in honour of that night That happie heauenly night that night so darke and shadie Wherein my Loue had eies that lighted my delight SWeete Violets Loues paradice that spred Your gracious odours which you couched beare Within your palie faces Vpon the gentle wing of some calme breathing winde That plaies amidst the plaine If by the fauour of propicious stars you gaine Such grace as in my Ladies bosome place to finde Be prowd to touch those places And whē hir warmth your moisture forth doth wear Whereby hir daintie parts are sweetly fed Your honors of the flowrie meads I pray You pretie daughters of the earth and Sun With milde and seemly breathing straight display My bitter sighes that haue my hart vndoon Vermilion Roses that with new daies rise Display your Crimsen folds fresh looking faire Whose radiant bright disgraces The rich adorned raies of Roseat rising morne Ah if hir virgins hand Doe pluck your pure ere Phoebus view the land And vaile your gracious pomp in louely natures scorne If chaunce my Mistres traces Fast by your flowres to take the Sommers aire Then wofull blushing tempt hir glorious eies To spread their teares Adonis death reporting And tell Loues torments sorowing for hir frend Whose drops of blood within your leaus cōsorting Report faire Venus mones withouten end Then may remorse in pitying of my smart Drie vp my teares and dwell within hir hart A Vrora now began to rise againe From watrie couch and from old Tithons side In hope to kisse vpon Acteian plaine Yong Cephalus and through the golden glide On Easterne coast she cast so great a light That Phoebus thought it time to make retire From Thetis Bowre wherein he spent the night To light the world againe with heauenly fire Nor sooner gan his winged steedes to chase The Stigian night mantled with duskie vale But poore Amyntas hasteth him apace In desarts thus to weepe a wofull tale Now silent shades and all that dwell therein As Birds or Beasts or Wormes that creepe on grounde Dispose your selues to teares while I begin To rew the griefe of mine eternall wounde And dolefull ghosts whose nature flies the light Come seate your selues with me on eu'ry side And whilst I die for want of my delight Lament the woes that Fancie me betide Phillis is dead the marke