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A04567 Parthenophil and Parthenophe Sonnettes, madrigals, elegies and odes. To the right noble and vertuous gentleman, M. William Percy Esquier, his deerest friend. Barnes, Barnabe, 1569?-1609. 1593 (1593) STC 1469; ESTC S118785 63,331 164

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toyle Had I for nurce been left to Lyons spoyle Had I for freedome dwelt in shadie nigh●… Coup't vp in loth-some dungeo●…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 sen●…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 daūces 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 thē gūme be●…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
Sweet singing courtly dauncing curious loue A rich remembrance vertuous nurrishing For sacred care of heauenly things For voyces sweetnesse musickes notes aboue When she deuinely speakes or sings Cleio dismount Euterpe silent bee Thalia for thy purple put on sack-cloath Sing hoarse Melpomine with Ioues Harpies three Terpsichore breake of thy galliard daunces Leaue Erato thy daliance court in black-cloath Thy prayses Polymneia she inhaunces For heauenly zeale Vrania she outreacheth Pleade not Calliope sing not to thy Lute Ioue and Mnemosine both be mute Whilst my Parthenophe your daughters teacheth MADRIGALL 10. Thou scal'd my fort blind Captaine of conceite But you sweet mistresse entred at the breach There you made hauocke of my hart There you to triumph did my tyrant teach Beware he knowes to winne you by deceit Those Iuory walles cannot endure his dart That turret fram'd with heauens rare art Immur'd with whitest porphyre and inset With roses cheeking natures pride of Rubye Those two true Diamōds which their windows frette Arch't with pure gold yet mourne in sable shade Warne not these that in daunger you bee Vanquish her little tyrant I will true bee And tho she will not yeeld to mee Yet none could thrall my hart but shee MADRIGALL 11. Thine eyes mine heauen which harbour louely rest And with their beames all creatures cheare Stoule from mine eyes there cleare And made mine eyes dimme myrrouldes of vnrest And from her lillye forhead smooth and plaine My front his withered sorrowes tooke And through her grace his grace forsooke From soft cheekes rosie redde My cheekes their leanesse and this pallid staine The golden penne of natures booke For her tong that taske vndertooke Which to the graces secretorie ledde And sweetest muses with sweet musicke fedde Inforc'd my muse in tragique tunes to sing But from her harts hard frozen string Mine hart his tendernesse and heare possest MADRIGALL 12. Like to the mountaines are mine high desiers Leuell to thy loues highest point Grounded on faith which thy sweet grace requiers For springs teares rise in endlesse sourse For sommers flowers loues fancies I appoint They trees with stormes tost out of course Figure my thoughtes still blasted with dispaire Thunder lightning and hayle Make his trees mourne thy frownes make me bewayle This onely diffrence here fier there snowes are SONNET LIII Why do I draw my breath vaine sighes to feede Since all my sighes be breathed out in vayne Why be these eyes the condnictes whence proceede These ceaselesse teares which for your sake do rayne Why do I write my woes and writing greeue To thinke vpon them and their sweet contriuer Begging some comfort which mighe me releeue When the remembrance is my cares reuiuer Why do I sew to kisse and kisse to loue And loue to be tormented not beloued Can neither sighes nor teares my sorrowes moue By lynes or wordes nor will they be remoued Then tyre not tyrant but on mine hart tyer That vnconsum'd I burne in my desier SONNET LIIII When I was yong indewd'd with natures graces I stoule blind loues strong bow and golden arrowes To shoote at redbrestes goldfinches and sparrowes At shrew'd gyrles and at boyes in other places I shot when I was vexed with disgraces I perc't no skinne but melted vp their marrowes How many boyes and gyrles wish't mine embraces How many prayz'd my fauour boue all faces But once Parthenophe by thy sweet side sitting Loue had espyed me in a place most fitting Betray'd by thine eyes beames which makes blind see He shot at me and said for thine eyes light This daring boy that durst vsurpe my right Take him a wounded slaue to loue and thee SONNET LV. Nymphes which in bewtie mortall creatures staine And Satyres which none but faire Nymphes beholde They to the Nymphes and Nymphes to them complaine And each in spight my mistresse bewtie tolde Till soundely sleeping in a myrtle groue A want on Satyre had espyed her there Who deeming she was dead in all hast stroue To fetch the Nymphes which in the forestes were They flocking fast in triumph of her death Lightly beheld and deeming she was dead Nymphes sang and Satyres daunced out of breath VVhilest Satyres with the Nymphes la voultaes lead My mistresse did awake then they which came To scorne her bewtie ran away for shame SONNET LVI The dyall loue which shewes how my dayes spende The leaden plummets sliding to the ground My thoughtes which to darke melancholye bend The rowling wheeles which turne swift howers round Thine eyes Parthenophe my fancies guide The watch continually which keepes his stroake By whose oft turning euery hower doth slide Figure the sighes which from my lyuer smoake VVhos 's oft inuasions finish my liues date The watchman which each quarter strikes the bell Thy loue which doth each part exanimate And in each quarter strikes his forces fell That hammer and great bell which endes each hower Death my lifes victor sent by thy loues power SONNET LVII Thy bewtie is the sunne which guides my day And with his beames to my worldes life geues light VVith whose sweet fauour all my fancies play And as byrdes singing still inchant my sight But when I seeke to get my loues cheefe pleasure Her frownes are like the night ledde by the lampe Of Phoebes chast desiers whilest without leasure Graces like starres through all her face encampe Then all my fancies byrdes lye whisht for feare Soone as her frownes procure there shadie sorrow Sauing mine hart which secret shot doth beare And nature from the Nighting all doth borrow VVhich from lamentes because he will not rest Hath loues thorne prickle pointed at his brest SONNET LVIII Fayre Clytie doth florish with the spring And eft soones withered like thy golden heare And Ioes vyolettes grow florishing But soone defac'd which thine eyes semblance beare Anemone with hyacinthe springs pryde Like to thy bewtie loose their louely glosse So will thy cheekes with graces bewtified Returne to wrinckles and to natures drosse Roses as from thy lippes sweet odours send Which herbes in them whilst iuyce and vertues rest From some diseases rigour life defend These as thy selfe once withred men detest Then loue betimes these withered flowers of yore Reuiue thy bewtie lost returnes no more SONNET LIX Ah me sweet bewtie lost returnes no more And how I feare thine hart fraught with disdaine Dispaier of her disdayne castes doubt before And makes me thus of mine harts hope complaine Ah me nor mine harts hope nor helpe dispaier Auoyde my fancie fancies vtter bayne My woes cheefe worker cause of all my cayer Auoyde my thoughtes that hope may me restor●… To mine hartes heauen and happinesse againe Ah wilt thou not but still depresse my thought Ah mistresse if thy bewtie this hath wrought That proude disdainefulnesse shall in the rayne Yet thinke when in thy for head wrinckles bee Men will disdaine thee then as thou doest mee SONNET LX. Whilst some the Troiane warres in verse recount And all the
soule with double prickes which myne hart splittes Whose faintyng breath with sighing commaes broken Drawes on the sentence of my death by pawses Euer prolonging out myne endlesse clauses With iffs Parenthesis yet finde no token When with my greefe I should stand euen or odde My life still making preparations Through thy loues dartes to beare the periodde Yet stumbleth on Interrogations These are those scholler like vexations Which greeue me when those studies I applye I misse my lesson still but with loues rodde For each small accent sounded but awrye Am I tormented yet I can not dye ELEGIE III. Sweet thralldome by loues sweet impression wrought Loues in that bondage euer let me liue For loue hath brought me bondslaue with a thought And to my thoughtes loue did me bondman giue Ah me my thoughtes poore prisoner shall I rest And shall my thoughtes make triumph ouer mee First to fierce famish't Lyons stand adrest Or let hage rockes and mountaines couer thee Behold one to his fancies made a praye A poore Actaeon with his houndes deuour'd An oke with his greene Iuy worne awaye A. wretchconsum ' with plenties great downe powr'd A garment with his moath dispoyl'd and rotten A thorne with his bred Caterpiller cancerd A buried Caesar with his fame forgotten A friend betrayd by those on whom he ancer'd Behold a fire consum'd with his owne heate An iron worne away with his owne rust But weare myne hart of oke this rage would eate Still fresh as Iuy myne hard oke to dust And were my pleasures durable as steele Dispaire would force they should times cancor feele ELEGIE IIII. This day sweet mistresse you to me did write When for so many lynes I begg'd reply all That from all hope you would not barre me quite Nor graunt plaine placet nor giue dead denyall But in my chamber-window while I read it A waspish bee flew round about me ●…uzzing With fulfill'd flankes when my tymes flower had fed it Which there lay strew'd and in my necke with huzzing She fixt her sting then did I take her out And in my window left her where she died My necke still smartes and swelleth round about By which her wrathes deare ransome may be tryed A myrrour to thee Lady which I send In this small schoede with commendations tyed Who though the sting and anguish stay with mee Yet for reuenge saw his vnluckie ende Then note th' example of this haplesse bee And when to me thou doest thy sting intende Feare some such punishment should chance to thee ELEGIE V. To Parthenophil Are you so waspish that from time to time You nurrish bees and to so good an ende That hauing suck't your honnie they must clyme Into your bosome to bethanke their frend And for a signe that they come to defend Reward you with such weapons as they haue Nor was it more then your desartes did craue Not much vnlike vnto the Vipers yongling Who nurrish't with the breeders dearest bloud Snarles with his teeth nor can endure the bongling Within the Vipers belly but makes food Of her thus nature worketh in her brood So you forsooth nor was it much amisse Feede snakes which thankefully both sting and hisse But if that any of our sexe did sting you Know this moreouer though you beare the pricke And though their frownes to melancholie bring you Yet are we seldome or else neuer sicke Nor do we dye like bees but still be quicke And soone recouering what we lost before We sting apace yet still keepe stinges in store ELEGIE VI. Behold these teares my loues true tribute payment These plaintiffe Elegies my greefes bewrayers Acoutred as is meete in mournefull rayment My red-swolne eyne which were mine harts betrayers And yet my rebell eye excuse prepaires That he was neuer worker of my wayment Plaining my thoughtes that my confusion they ment VVhich thoughtes with sighes for incense make dumme prayers T' appease the furies in my martyr'd brest VVhich witnesse my true loues in long lament And with what agonies I am possest Ah me poore man where shall I finde some rest Not in thine eyes with promise fearefull hope Thine hart hath vow'd I shall be still distrest To rest within thine hart there is no scope All other places made for bodies ease As bed field forrest and a quiet chamber There euer am I with sad cares opprest Each pleasaunt spectacle doth me displease Greefe and dispaire so sore on me did sease That day with tediousnesse doth me molest And Phoebe carryed in her coach of Amber Can not close vp the fountaines of my woe Thus dayes from nightes my charg'd hart doth not know Nor nightes from dayes all howers to sorrowes goe Then punish fancie cause of thy disease ELEGIE VII Youth full of errour whether doest thou hayle me Downe to the dungeon of myne owne conceite Let me before take some deuine receite For will I know my gaoler will not bayle me Then if thou fauour not all helpes will fayle me That fearefull dungeon poysoned with dispaire Affordes no casement to receaue sweet ayer There ougly visions euer will apayle me Vayne youth misguideth soone with loues deceite Deeming false painted lookes most firmely fayre Now to remorselesse indges must I sewe For gracious pardon whiles they do repeate Your bold presumption threatning me with you Yet am I innocent though none bewayle me Ah pardon pardon childish youth did vew Those two forbidden apples which they wish't for And children long for that with once the rew Suffice he found repentance which he fish't for With great expence of bates and golden hookes Those liuing apples do the suite pursue And are you Iudges see their angry lookes VVhere vnderneath that wrath-full Canopie The vse to open their condemning bookes Expect now nothing but extremitie Since they be Iudges and in their owne cause Their sightes are fixte on nought but crueltie Ruling with rigour as they list their lawes Oh graunt some pittie plac'd in pitties h●…ll Since our forefather for the like offence With vs receiu'd sufficient recompence For two fayre apples which procur'd his fall ELEGIE VIII Cease sorrow cease oh cease thy rage alittle Ah litle ease oh graunt some little ease Oh fortune euer constante neuer brittle For as thou gan so doest thou still displease Ah ceaselesse sorrow take some truice with mee Remorselesse tyrantes sometime will take peace Vpon conditions and I 'le take of thee Conditions so thou wilt thy furie cease And deare conditions for to forfect life So thou wilt ende thy plagues and vexe no more But out alas he will not cease his strife Least he should loose his priuiledge before For were I dead my sorrowes rule were nought And whiles I liue he like a tyrant rageth Ah rage fierce tyrant for this greefe is wrought By loue thy counsell which my minde ingageth To thy fierce thralldome whiles he spoyles myne hart So be my minde and hart imprisoned fast To two fierce tyrantes which this empyer part Oh mylder goddes
a sunnie smile From vnderneath a cloudie frowne of hate Plaine loue with counterfeasance to beguile Which at thy windowes for some grace awate If thou thine eares can open to thy prayse And them with that report delighted cherish And shut them when the passionate assayes To pleade for pittie then about to perish If thou canst cherish graces in thy cheeke For men to wonder at which thee behold And they finde furies when thine hart they see●…e And yet proue such as are extreamely cold Now as I finde no thought to mans conceipt Then must I sweare to woman 's no deceit ELEGIE XIX Deare sorrow giue me leaue to breathe a while A little leaue to take a longer breath Whose easie passage still thou doest beguile Choak'd vp with sighes proclamers of my death Oh let the teares of euer-thirstie eyes Returne backe to the channells of mine hart They to my sight be vowed enemies And made a trayterous league not to depart Vnder the colour of tormenting those Which were first causers of mine harts distresse And closely with mine hart by guile did close Through blinding them to make my torment lesse Oh let those fearefull thoughtes which still oppresse me Turne to the dungeon of my troubled brayne Dispaire t' accompanie which doth possesse me And with his venome poisoneth euery vayne Ouglie dispaire who with blacke force assaultes Me vanquisht with conceipt and makes me dwell With horrour match't in melancholies vaultes Where I lye burning in my fancies hell Oh thou drad ruler of my sorrowes rage Of thee and none but thee I begge remorse VVith thy sweet breath thou may my sighes asswage And make my sorrowes fountaines stay their course And banish blacke dispaire then helpe me now Or know death can do this as well as thou ELEGIE XX. Oh deare vexation of my troubled soule My life with greefe when wilt thou consummate The deare remembrance of my passing soule Mine hart with some restes hope doth animate How many haue those conquering eyes subdued How many vanquish't captiues to thine hart Hard-iron harted Captaines when they vew'de VVere drawne till they were wounded with thy dart Oh when I there heard bodies haue beheld Their martiall stomaches and oft wounded face Which bitter tumultes and garboyles foretell'd In which it seem'd they founde no cowardes place Then I recall'd how farre loues power exceedes Aboue the bloudie menace of rough warre Where euery wounded hart close inward bleedes And soddeine perc'd with twinckling of a starre Then when such iron harted Captaines bee To thine harts bulwarke forced for to trye Which way to winne that fort by batterye And how all conquerours their conquer'd lye Me thinkes thine hart or else thine eyes be made Because they can such iron obiectes force Of hardest Adamante that men which lade Continuall siege be thrall'd without remorse Thine hart of Adamant because it takes The hardest harts drawne prisoners vnto t●…e Thine eye because it wonded many makes Yet no transpercing beames can pearce those eyne Thine hart of Adamant which none can wound Thine eye of Adamant vnperced found ELEGIE XXI Happie depart with speede then me more fortunate euer Poore letter go thy wayes vnto my sweet Ladyes hands She shall looke on thee and then with her bewtifull eyes blesse Smiling eyes perhaps thee to delight with a glaunce She shall cast on a lyne if a lyne there pleaseth her humour But if a lyne displease then shall apeare in a frowne How much she dislikes thy loues and saucie salutings O my lifes sweet light know that a frowne of thine eye Can transpearce to my soule more swift then a Parthian arrow And more deepely wound then any launce or a speare But thy sweet smiles can procure such contrary mot'ions Which can alone that heale wounded afore by thine eyes Like to the launces rust which heal'de whome warlike Achilles With right hand valiant doughtilye wounded afore Not vnlike to the men whose greefe the Scorpion helpeth Whom he before did sting ready to dye thorow paine Thou that bewtie procures to be thy chastities hand mayde With vertues regiment glorious ordred alone Thou that those smooth browes like plates of Iuory plained When any looke on them canst make apeare like a cloude Thou that those cleare eyes whose light surpasseth a stars light Canst make loues flames shoote with cruel anger abroad Thou that those fayre cheekes when a man thy bewtie beholdeth Deepely to wound canst make sweetely to blush like a rose Make thy browes to delight mine hart smooth shadow thy cleare eyes Whose smile is to my soule like to the sunne frō a cloude When he shines to the world in most pride after a tempest And with his heate prouokes all the delightes of the ground Graunt me sweet Lady this this graunt kinde pittie requesteth Teares and sighes make asuite pittie me pittie my suite Thus to thy sweet graces will I leaue my drcerye bewaylings And to thy gracious hart I recomend my lamentes Thrise blessed go thy way to my deare go thrise speedie letter And for me kisse them since I may not kisse her hands CANZON 1. All bewties farre perfections rest in thee And sweetest grace of graces Deckes thy face boue faces All vertue takes her glorie from thy minde The muses in thy wittes haue their places And in thy thoughtes all mercies bee Thine hart from all hardnesse free An holy place in thy thoughtes holinesse doth finde In fauorable speech kinde A sacred tongue and eloquent Action sweet and excellent Musique it selfe in ioyntes of her fayre fingers is She chauntresse of singers is Her plighted faith is firme and permanent O now now helpe wilt thou take some compassion She thinkes I flatter writing on this fashion Thy bewtie past with misorder stayned is In thee no graces finde rest In thoe who sought it saw lest And all thy thoughtes be vayne and vicious Thy braynes with heauie dullnesse are opprest Of thee no mercy gayned is Thine hart hard and fayned is Aminde prophane and of the worst suspicious In speech not delicious Atoung ty'de which cannot vtter Gesture lame like wordes which stutter Thy hands and minde vnap'te in musique to reioyce For songes vnfitte an hoarse voyce Thy faith vnconstant whatsoeuer thou mutter Be gracious no she thinckes my wordes be bitter Through my misfortunes they for my selfe be fitter O'h how long how long shall I be distrest How long in vayne shall I moane How long in payne shall I groane How long shall I bathe in continuall teares How long shall I sit sad and sigh alone How long shall feare discomfort giue How long shall hopes let me liue How long shall I lye bounde in dispaires and feares VVith sorrow still my hart weares my sundry fancies subdue me Thine eyes kill me when they vew me VVhen thou speakes with my soule thy voyce musique maketh And soules from silence waketh Thy browes smiles quicken me whose frownes slew me Then fayre sweet behold see me poore wretch in torment Thou
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 ●…ue and neuer bye So many wayes her ●…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 O●… 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 i●…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 ●…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