toyle Had I for nurce been left to Lyons spoyle Had I for freedome dwelt in shadie nighâ—… Coup't vp in loth-some dungeoâ—…s from mens sight Those first desiers which in my brest did boyle From which thy loues vnkinde thou banished Had not been such an exile to my blisse If life with my loues infancie were vanished It had not been so sore a death as this If Lyonesses were in steede of nurses Or night for day thine hate deserues more curses SONNET CII Vayne gallantes whose much longing spirites tickle Whose braynes swell with abundance of much witte And would be touch't fayne with an amourous fitte O lend your eyes and bend your fancies fickle You whom affections dart did neuer prickle You which hold louers fooles and argue it Gase on my sunne and if teares do not trickle From your much maisterd eyes where fancies sitte Then eagles will I terme you for your eyes But Beares or Tygres for your saluage hartes But if it chance such fountaines should arise And you made like partakers of my smartes Her for her percing eyes an eagle name But for her hart a Tygre neuer tame MADRIGALL 15. Natures pride loues pearle vertues perfection In sweetnesse bewtie grace Of body face affection Hath glorie brightnesse place In rosie cheekes cleare eyes and heauenly minde All which with wonder honour prayse take race To charme to shine to flye with fames protection Mine hart the first mine eyes next third my thought Did wound did blind did binde Which greeu'd obscur'd and wrought Hart eyes and senâ—…s with such imperfection That in their former comfort sight and kinde The moued gaz'd and sought Yet found not in what order sort and case Of teares plaints sighes with seas with murmure winde To finde to get t' imbrace Natures pride loues pearle vertues perfection MADRIGALL 16. Sleepe Phoebus still in glaucie Thetis lappe Ioues eagles percing eyes be blinde Soft thinges whose tuch is tickle to the minde Giue no like tuch all ioyes in one to wrappe All instrumentes all birdes and voyces Make no such heauenly musicke in their kinde No fruites haue such sweet sappe No roote such ioyces No balme so much reioyces O breath exceeding euery rich perfume For loue all pleasures in a kisse did lappe Her eyes did giue bright glaunces Sight is no sight all light with that consume She tuch't my cheeke at which tuch mine hart dauÌ„ces Mine eyes in priuie combate did praesume Charging mine handes to charge her middle Whilst they threw wounding darts healing launces She kist and spoke attonce a riddle But such sweet meaning in darke sence As shew'd the drift of her deare-sweet pretence More pleasing then the corde of Harpe or Lute On heauenly cherries then I feede Whose sappe deliciouser then Angels food Whose breath more sweet theÌ„ guÌ„me beâ—…e flower or bood O kisse which did all sence exceede No man can speake those ioyes then muse be mute But say for sight smell hearing tast and tuch In any one thing was there euer such MADRIGALL 17. Enuious ayer all natures publicke nurse Lend to my life no spirite Not that I prosper worse Then earst of yoare for I the state inherite Which goddes in Paradise boue mans demerite But for I highly scorne Thy common vnpour should With her sweet breath immixe I cannot beare it Cold ayres infusion cannot be forborne O kisse ô soule which could All way linges haue outworne Angell of blisse which cheeres me night and morne Sweet cloud which now with my soule doest enfould Salue to my soule once sicke Let men in Inde I'borne Cease boasting of rich drugges and sweet perfume Egyptian gummes and odours Arabicke I loth and wood deare sould From Myrre and Cypresse torne Tarry sweet kisse do not in cloudes consume Yet can I feele thy spirite mouing quicke O why should ayre praesume To be her spirites riuall What do I speake nor am I lunaticke I can not liue else would I not assume Cold ayer to contriue all My sorrowes with immixion Then dye whilst this sweet spirite the doth prycke Whilst thy sweet comfortes kisses are alyueall And loues sweet iurisdiction Will make the dye possessed Of all heauens ioyes which for most comfort striueall Least death to pleasure should giue interdiction Ah let my lippes be pressed And with continuall kisses Powre euerlasting spirite to my life So shall I all wayes liue so still be blessed Kisse still and make no misses Double redouble kisses Murmure affections warre in pleasing strife Presse lippes lippes rest oppressed This passion is no fiction MADRIGALL 18. After Auroraes blush the sunne arose And spread his beames With whose cleare gleames My pricklesse rose-bud vaild his purple leaues In whose sweet fouldes morning did pearles inclose Where sunne his beames in Orblike circle weaues And them t' inrich stoule those Natures bewtie Phoebus vertue loues incense Whose fauour sappe and sauour my sence reaues My muse hath these for theames They to my muse my muse to them defence Phoebus sometimes loues oracles sendes thence Thus by my sunne a rose Though a sweet rose pricklesse Pricklesse arose deare prickle Which me diseaseth much though I be sicklesse Nought me of ioy bereaues Saue fauour sappe and sauour all be fickle Blush not for shame that thy sunne spreades his beames My soule in sunder cleaues After Auroraes blush the sunne arose MADRIGALL 19. Thy loues conceites are wounde about mine hart Thy loue it selfe within mine hart a wounde Thy torches all arow sticke Which thy sweet grace about mine hart hath bounde There gleaming arrowes sticke in euery part Which vnto my marrow pricke Thy bewties fancie to mine hart is thrall Mine hart thy beauties thrall is founde And thou mine hart a bulwarcke art Conquer'd with bewtie batter'd to the grounde And yet though conquer'd will not yeeld at all For in that conflict though I fall Yet I my selfe a conquerer repute In fight continuall like victorious mart Yet euer yeeld as euer ouerthrowne To be still prisoner is my suite I will be still thy captiue knowne Such pleasing seruitude Victorious conquest is and fortitude MADRIGALL 20. My loue alas is sicke fye enuious sicknesse That at her brest where rest all ioyes and ease Thou shouldst take such dispight her to displease In whom all vertues health hath quicknesse Thou durst not come in liuing licknesse For hadst thou come thou couldst not her disease Her bewtie would not let the prease Sweet graces which continually attend her At her short breath breathe short and sigh so deepe Which sicknesses sharpe furies might appease Both loues and graces striue to mende her Oh neuer let me rest but sigh and weepe Neuer but weepe and sigh sicke is my loue And I loue-sicke yet Phisicke may befrend her But what shall my disease remoue SONNET CIII I slep't when vnderneath a laurell shade My face vprear'd aloft vnto the heauen Me thought I heard this spoken in a sueauen Nature on earth loues miracle hath made With this me thought vpon a
Orient perles oh how much I admire you Not for your Orient glosse or vertues rarenesse But that you tuch her necke I much desier your Whose whitenesse so much doth your lustre cheeke As whitest Lillyes the primerose in fairenesse A necke most gorgious euen in natures barenesse Deuine rose buddes which when spring doth surrender His crowne to summer he last trophie reareth By which he from all seasons the palme beareth Faire purple crisped fouldes sweet-dew'de and tender Whose sweetnesse neuer weares though moysture weareth Sweet ripe-redde strawberryes whose heauenly sappe I would desier to sucke but loues ingender A Nectar more deuine in thy sweet pappe Oh louely tender pappes but who shall presse them Whose heauenly Nectar and Ambroseall iuyce Proceede from Viollettes sweet and Asier-like And from the matchlesse purple Flower-deluce Round-rising hilles white hilles sweet Venus blesse them Natures rich trophyes not those hilles vnlike Which that great Monarche Charles whose power did strike From thartique to th'antartique dignified With proude Plus vltra which Cerographye In vnknowne Caracters of victorye Nature hath set by which she signified Her Conquestes miracle rear'de vp on hye Soft Iuorie balles with which whom she lettes play Aboue all mortall men is magnified And wagers boue all price shall beare away Oh loues soft hilles how much I wonder you Betweene whose louely valleyes smooth and straite That glassie moisture lyes that slipperie dewe Whose courage tuch'te could dead men animate Old Nestor if betweene or vnder you He should but tuch his young yeares might renew And with all youthfull ioyes him selfe in dewe Oh smooth white satten match-lesse soft and bright More smooth then oyle more white then lillye is As hard to matche as loues mountes hillye is As soft as downe cleare as on glasse sunne-light To prayse your white my toung too much sillye is How much at your smooth soft my sence amazed is Which charmes the feeling and inchauntes the sight But yet her bright smooth white soft skinne more praysed is How oft haue I the siluer swanne commended For that eauen chesse of fethers in her wing So white and in such decent order placed When she the dolye Dirge of death did sing With her yong mournefull Cygnettes trayne attended Yet not because the milke-white winges her graced But when I thinke on my sweet Ladyes wast Whose Iuorie sides a snowye shadow giues Of her well ordred ribbes which rise in falling How oft the swanne I pittied her death calling With dreerie notes not that she so short liues And mongst the muses singes for her installing But that so cleare a white should be distayned With one that for loues sugred torment liues And makes that white a plague to louers payned Oh how oft how oft did I chide and curse The brethren windes in their power disagreeing East for vnholesome vapour South for rayne North for by snowes and whirlewindes bitter being I lou'd the West because it was the nurse To Floraes gardens and to Coeres graine Yet tentimes more these I did curse againe Because they were inconstant and vnstable In drought in moysture frostie cold and heate Here with a sunnie smile their stormie threate Much like my Ladies fancies variable How oft with feete did I the marble beate Harming my feete yet neuer hurt the stone Because like her it was impenitrable And her hartes nature with it was all one Oh that my ceaselesse sighes and teares were able To counter-charme her hart to stone conuerted I might worke miracles to chaunge againe The hard to soft that it might rew my paine But of her selfe she is so straitely skirted Falsely reputing true loud honor staine That I shall neuer â—…ue and neuer bye So many wayes her â—…de I haue experted Yet shall I liue through vertue of her eye ODE 16. Before bright Titan rais'de his teame Or louely morne with rosie cheeke VVith scarlette did'e the Easterne streame On Phoebes day first of the weeke Early my goddesse did arise VVith breathe to blesse the morning ayer Oh heauens which made deuine mine eyes Glauncing on such a Nymphe so faire VVhose heare downe-spredde in curled tresses Phoebus his glitter and beames withstood Much like him when through Cypresses He daunceth on the siluer flood Or like the golden purled downe Brooched vpon the palm-flowrd wyllowes VVhich downeward scattred from her crowne Loosely disheuel'd on loues pillowes Couering her swan-like backe below Like Iuorie match'te with purest gold Like Phoebe when on whitest snow Her guilded shadow taketh hold Her forhead was like to the rose Before Adonis prick'te his feete Oâ—… like the path to heauen which goes VVhere all the louely graces meete Cupids rich chariotte stood vnder Moyst perle about the wheeles was set Gray Achate spokes not much a funder The Axeltree of purest iâ—…tt Her seemely nose the rest which grac'de For Cupid's trophye was vprear'de Timperiall thrones where loue was plac'de VVhen of the world he would be fear'de VVhere Cupid with sweet Venus sate Her cheekes with rose and lillyes deck'te Nature vpon the coache did wate And all in order did direct Her cheekes to Damas eroses sweet In sent and colour weare so like That honnie-bees in swarmes would meete To sucke and sometimes she would strike VVith daintie plume the bees to feare And being beaten they would sting They founde such heauenly honny theare Cupid which there sate triumphing VVhen he perceiu'd the bee did sting her VVould swell for greefe and curse that bee More then the bee that sting'd his finger Yet still about her they would flee Then loue to Venus would complaine Of nature which his chariot drest Nature would it excuse againe Saying she then shew'd her skill best VVhen she dronke wine vpon her face Bacchus would daunce and spring to kisse And shadow with a blushing grace Her cheekes where louers build there blisse VVho when she dranke would blush for shame That wanton Bacchus she should vse VVho Venus brother might defame Her that should such acquaintance chuse What glosse the scarlet curtaines cast On a bed-steede of Iuorie Such like but such as much surpast All glosse her cheekes did bewtifie Her roseate lippes soft louely swelling And full of pleasure as a Cherry Her breath of deuine spices smelling Which with toung broaken would make meny Th' infernall soules and with her voyce Set heauen wide open hell gates shut Moue melancholye to reioyce And thrall'de in Paradice might put Her voyce not humaine when she speaketh I thinke some Angell or goddesse Into coelestiall tunes which breaketh Speakes like her with such chearefulnesse All byrdes and instrumentes may take There notes deuine and excellent Mellodious harmonie â—…o make From her sweet voyces least accent This we loues sanctuarie call Whence sacred sentences proceede Rould vp in soundes Angelicall Whose place sweet nature hath decreede Iust vnder Cupids ' trophye fixt Where musique hath his excellence And such sweetes with loues spirite mixt As please farre more then frankincense Thence issew forth loues
were full Of pleasures bewtie dew'd with Aprill showers My sommer loue whose buddes were bewtifull Youthfull desiers with heates vnmercifull Parched whose seedes when haruest time was come Weare eares against my suites obturate With sheaues of scorne bouÌ„d vp which did bènumme Mine heate with greef yet made her hart indurate Oh chast desiers which hel'd her hart immurate In wall 's of Adamante vnfoyled My winter spent in showers of sorrowes teares Haylestones of hatred frostes of feares My braunches bar'de of pleasure and despoiled MADRIGALL 8. Why am I thus in mynde and body wounded Oh mynde and body mortall and deuine On what sure rocke is your forte grounded On death Ah no for at it you repine Nay both intombed in her bewties shrine Will liue tho shadowlike that men astounded At their Anatomies when they shall vewe it May pitifull rewe it Yea but her murthering bewtie doth so shine Oh yet much mercilesse That hart desiers to liue with her which slew it And tho she still rest pitylesse Yet at her bewtie will I wonder Though sweet graces past repeate Neuer appeare but when the threate Fiering my secret hart with darâ—…e and thunder SONNET XLIIII Oh dart and thunder whose fierce violence Surmounting Rhetorickes dart and thunder boultes Can neuer be seâ—… out in eloquence Whose might all mettles masse a sonder moultes Where be they famous Prophetes of ould Greece Those anchiant Romaine Poetes of acompt Musaeus which went for the Golden Fleece With Iason and did Heroes loues recompt And thou sweet Naso with thy golden vearse Whose louely spirite rauish't Caesars daughter And that sweet Tuskane Petrarke which did pearse His Laura with loue Sonnets when he saught her Where be these all that all these might haueÌ„ taught her That sainctes deuine are knowne sainctes by their mercy And sainctlike bewtie should not rage with pearse eye SONNET XLV Sweet bewties rose in whose fayre purple leaues Loues Queene in richest ornament doth lye Whose graces were they not too sweet and hye Might here be seen but since their sight bereaues All sences he that endlesse bottome weaues Which did Penelope who that shall trye Then wonder and in admiration dye At nature-passing natures holy frame Her bewtie thee reuiues thy muse vpheaues To draw coelestiall spirite from the skyes To prayse the worke and worker whence it came This spirite drawne from heauen of thy fayre eyes Whose guilded cognissance left in mine hart Shewes me thy faithfull seruant to my smart SONNET XLVI Ah pearse-eye pearsing eye and blazing light Of thunder thunderblazes burning vppe Oh sunne sunne-melting blind and dazing sight Ah hart downe driuing hart and turning vppe Oh matchlesse bewtie bewties bewtie stayning Sweet damaske rose bud Venus rose of roases Ah fronte Imperious deuties deutie gayning Yet threatfull cloudes did still incloase and cloases Oh lillye leaues when Iuno lillyes leaues In wondring at her coloures grayne distayned Voyce which rockes voyce and mountaines cleaues In sonder at my loues with payne complained Eye lihtning Sunne hart bewties bane vnfained Oh damaske rose proude forhead lillye voyce Ah partiall fortune sore chance fillye choyce SONNET XLVII Giue me mine hart for no man liueth hartlesse And now depriu'd of hart I am but dead And since thou hast it in his tables read Whether he rest at ease in ioyes and smartlesse Whether beholding him thine eyes were dartlesse Or to what bondage his inthral-ment leades Returne deare hart and me to mine restore Ah let me thee possesse returne to mee I finde no meanes deuoyde of skill and artlesse Thether returne where thou triumph't before Let me of him but repossessor bee And when thou giues to me mine hart againe Thy selfe thou doest bestow for thou art shee Whom I call hart and of whom I complaine SONNET XLVIII I wish no rich refinde Arabian gold Nor Orient Indian pearle rare natures wonder No Diamondes th' Aegiptian surges vnder No Rubyes of America deare sold Nor Saphyres which rich Affrike sandes ensold Treasures far distant from this Isle a sender Barbarian Iuories in contempt I hold But onely this this onely Venus graunt That I my sweet Pathenophe may get Her heires no grace of golden wyers want Pure pearles with perfect Rubines are in set True Dyamondes in eyes Saphires in vaynes Nor can I that soft Iuory skinne forget England in one small subiect such containes SONNET XLIX Coole coole in waues thy beames intollerable O sunne no sonne but most vnkinde stepfather By law nor nature sier but rebell rather Foole foole these labours are inextricable A burthen whose weight is importable A Syren which within thy brest doth bath her A fiend which doth in graces garments grath her A fortresse whose force is impregnable From my loues lymbeck still still'd teares oh teares Quench quench mine heate or with your soueraintie Like Nyobe conuert mine hart to marble Or with fast-flowing pyne my body drye And ryd me from dispaires chyll'd feares oh feares Which on mine heben harpes hart strings do warble SONNET L. So warble out your tragique notes of sorrow Blacke harpe of liuer-pyning melancholie Blacke humor patrone of my fancies folie Meere folies which from fancies fier borrow Hot fier which burnes day night midnight and morrow Long morning which prolonges my sorrowes solie And euer ouerules my passions wholie So that my fortune where it first made forrow Shall there remaine and euer shall it plowe The bowels of mine hart mine harts hot bowells And in their forrowes sow the seedes of loue Which thou didst sow and newly spring vp now And make me write vayne wordes no wordes but vowells For nought to me good consonant would proue SONNET LI. Lame consonants of member-vowells robbed What perfect-sounding wordes can you compose Wherein you might my sorrowes flame disclose Can you frame mamed wordes as you had throbbed Can you with sighes make signes of passions sobbed Or can your characters make sorrowes showes Can liquids make them I with teares make those But for my teares with taunts and frumpes am bâ—…bbed Could mutes procure good wordes mute would I bee But then who should my sorrowes image paint No consonants or mutes or liquids will Set out my sorrowes tho with greefe I faint If with no letter but one vowell should bee An A. with H. my Sonnet would fulfill SONNET LII Me thought Calliope did from heauen discendâ—… To sing fayre mistresse thy sweet bewties 〈◊〉 Thy sweet enchanting voyce did Orpheus râ—…e Who with his harpe which downe the gods did sende Coelestiall coneorde to the voyce did lende His musicke all wild beastes so did amaze That they submissiue thy lookes did bende Hilles trees townes bridges from their places wende Hopping and dancing all they windes be still And listen whiles the Nightingalles fulfill With Larkes and Thrushes all defectes of pleasure Springs sang thy prayses in a murmur shill Whiles I inrag'd with musicke out of traunce Like Bacchus preeste did in thy presence daunce MADRIGALL 9. For glorie pleasure and fayre florishing
shall this for euer last If that I haue these bitter plagues deseru'de Yet let repentance which my soule doth melt Obtaine some fauour if you be not sueru'de From lawes of mercy know what plagues I felt Yea but I doubt inchantment in my brest For neuer man so much agreeu'd as I Could liue with ceaselesse sorrowes weight opprest But twentie thousand times perforce should dye And with her eyes she did bewitche mine hart Which lettes it liue but feele an endlesse smart ELEGIE IX With humble suite vpon my bended knee Though absent farre from hence not to be seene Yet in thy power still present as goddes bee I speake these wordes whose bleeding woundes be greene To thee drad Cupid and thy mother Queene If it at any time hath lawfull beene Men mortall to speake with adietie Oh you great guiders of yong springing age VVhose power immortall euer was I weene As mightie as your spatious Monarchie Oh spare me spare my tedious pilgrimage Take hence the least brand of your extreame fiers Do not gainst those which yeelde fierce battell wage I know by this you will alaye your rage That you giue life vnto my long desiers VVhich still persuades me you will pittie take Life is farre more then my vext soule desiers Oh take my life and after death torment mee Then though in absence of my cheefe delight I shall lament alone my soule requires And longes to visite sweet Elizian fieldes Then that I lou'd it neuer shall repent me There till those dayes of Iubile shall comme VVould I walke pensiue pleas'd alone and dumme Graunt this petition sweet loues Queene which weeldes The hart of forlorne louers euermore Or else Zanclaean Charibd me deuoure And through his waters sent to Stigian power Or patient let me burne in Aetnaes flame Or fling my selfe in furie from the shore Into deepe waues of the Lancadean god Rather then beare this tumulte and vproare And through your meanes be scourg'd with mine owne rod Oh let me dye and not endure the same The suite I make is to be punish't still Nor would I wish not to be wretched there But that I might remaine in hope and feare Sweet louely saintes let my suite like your will ELEGIE X. In quiet silence of the shadie night All places free from noyse of men and dogges When Phoebe caried in her chariot bright Had clear'd the mistie vapours and night fogges Then when no care the quiet shepheard clogges Hauing his flocke safe fodder'd in the fould A liuely vision to my fancies sight Appear'd which me thought wake I did behould A fierie boye outmatching the moone light VVho softly wispering in mine eare had tould There thou thy fayre Parthenophe may see I quickly turning in an hebene bedde VVith sable couering and blacke curtanes spredde VVith many little loues in blacke by thee Thee thee Parthenophe left almost dedde Paile cold with feare I did behold ay mee Ah me left almost sencelesse in my bed My groanes perceiu'd by those which neare me lay By them with much ado recouered VVhich fearefull vision so did me afray That in a furie set beside my witte Sicke as before me thought I saw thee yitt Venus thy face there couered with a vayle Mine hart with horror chilles to thinke on it The graces kist thy lippes and went away Then I with furious raging did assaile To kisse thee least thou should depart before And then in sight of those which there did stand Thinking that I should neuer see thee more Mistaking thee I kist a fire-brande Burnt with the fire my sences which did fayle Freshly recall'd into their wittes againe I found it was a dreame but sweet expound it For that strange dreame with teares renewes my paine And I shall neuer rest till I haue found it ELEGIE XI VVas it decreed by fates too certaine doome That vnder Cancer's Tropique where the Sunne Still doth his race in hottest circuite runne My minde should dwell and in none other roome Where comfortes all be burnt before the bloome Was it concluded by remorse-lesse fate That vnder-neath Th'Erimanthian beare Beneath the Lycaonian Axel-tree Where ceaselesse snowes and frostes extremitie Hold Iurisdiction should remaine my feare VVhere all mine hopes be nip'te before the beare VVas it thus ordred that till my deathes date VVhen Phoebus runnes on our Meridian lyne VVhen mistes fall downe beneath our Hemi-sphoere And Cynthia with darke Antipod's doth shine That my dispaier should hold his mansion there Where did the fatall sisters this assigne Euen when this Iudgement to them was awarded The silent sentence issew'd from her eyne Which neither pittie nor my cares regarded ELEGIE XII Oh neuer can I see that sunnie light That bright chntriuer of my fierie rage Those precious golden apples shinning hright But out alas me thinckes some fearefull sight Should battell with the deare beholders wage I feare such pretious thinges should haue some force Them to preserue lest some beholders might Procure those precious apples by their slight Then cruell Atlas banisht from remorse Enters my thoughtes and how he fear'de away The poore inhabitantes which dwelt about Least some af his rich fruite should make a pray Although the Orchard circummur'de throughout With walles of steele was and a vigil stoute Of watchfull Dragons guarded euery where Which bold attemptors vext with hot pursuite So that none durst approch his fruite for feare Thus Atlas-like thine hart hath Dragons set Tyrannous hatred and a proud disdaine Which in that Orchard cruellie did raine And with much rigour rule thy louely eyes Immur'd in steelie walles of chaste desier Which entrance to poore passengers denyes And deathes high daunger to them that requier And euen as Atlas through fierce crueltie And breache to lawes of hospitalitie When lodging to a straunger he denied Was turned to a stonie mountaine straight Which on his shoulders now support's heauens waight A iust reuenge for crueltie and pride Euen so thine hart for inhumanitie And wrath to those that thine eyes apples loue And that it will not lodge a louely guest Is turn'd to rocke and doth the burthen beare Of thousand zealous louers deare complaintes Whom thou with thy fierce crueltie diâ—…st teare An huge hard rocke which none can euer moue And of whose fruite no man can be possest Thy golden smiles make none attemp'ts to deare But when attempted once those apples bee The vayne attemptour after feeles the smart Who by thy Dragons hatred and disdaine Are torne in sonder with extremitie For hauing entred no man can get forth So those inchaunting apples hinder thee Of such deare prize be things of such rare worth But euen as Perseus Ioues thrise valiant sonne Begot of Danae in a golden shower Huge Atlas conquer'd when he first begonne Then kill'â—…â—…he Dragons with his matchlesse power At length the bewteous golden apples wonne So right is he borne in a golden hower And for his fortune may from Ioue discend Who first thine hart an Atlas hath subdue'd Next