AMORETTI AND Epithalamion Written not long since by Edmunde Spenser Printed for William Ponsonby 1695. To the Right Worshipfull Sir Robart Needham Knight SIr to gratulate your safe return frō Ireland I had nothing so readie nor thought any thing so meete as these sweete conceited Sonets the deede of that welde seruing gentleman maister Edmond Spenser whose name sufficiently warranting the worthiness of the work I do more confidently presume to publish it in his absence vnder your name to whom in my poore opinion the patronage therof doth in some respectes properly appertaine For besides your iudgement and delighte in learned poesie This gentle Muse for her former perfection long wished for in Englande nowe at the length crossing the Seas in your happy companye though to your selfe vnknowne seemeth to make choyse of you as meetest to giue her deserued countenaunce after her retourne entertaine her then Right worshipfull in sorte best beseeming your gentle minde and her merite and take in worth my good will herein who seeke no more but to shew my selfe yours in all dutifull affection W. P G W. senior to the Author DArke is the day when Phoebus face is shrowded and weaker sights may wander soone astray but when they see his glorious raies vnclowded with steddy steps they keepe the perfect way So while this Muse in forraine landes doth stay inuention weepes and pens are cast aside the time like night depriud of chearefull day and few do write but ah too soone may slide Then hie thee home that art our perfect guide and with thy wit illustrate Englands fame dawnting thereby our neighoures auncient pr◠that do for poesie challendge cheefest name So we that liue and ages that succeede With great applause thy learned works shall ree Ah Colin whether on the lowly plaine pyping to shepherds thy sweete roudelaies or whether singing in some lofty vaine heroick deedes of past or present daies Or whether in thy louely mistris praise thou list to exercise thy learned quill thy muse hath got such grace and power to please with rare inuention bewtified by skill As who therein can euer ioy their fill O therefore let that happy muse proceede to clime the height of vertues sacred hill where endles honor shall be made thy meede Because no malice of succeeding daies can rase those records of thy lasting praise G.W. I. SONNET I. HAppy ye leaues when as those lilly hands which hold my life in their dead doing might shall handle you and hold in loues soft bands lyke captiues trembling at the victors sight And happy lines on which with starry light those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look and reade the sorrowes of my dying spright written with teares in harts close bleeding book And happy rymes bath'd in the sacred brooke of Helicon whence she deriued is when ye behold that Angels blessed looke my soules long lacked foode my heauens blis Leaues lines and rymes seeke her to please alone whom if ye please I care for other none SONNET II. VNquiet thought whom at the first I bred Of th'inward bale of my loue pined hart and sithens haue with sighes and sorrowes fed till greater then my wombe thou woxen art Breake forth at length out of the inner part in which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood and seeke some succour both to ease my smart and also to sustayne thy selfe with food But if in presence of that fayrest proud thou chance to come fall lowly at her feet and with meeke humblesse and afflicted mood pardon for thee and grace for me intreat Which if she graunt then liue and my loue cherish if not die soone and I with thee will perish SONNET III. THe souerayne beauty which I doo admyre witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed the light wherof hath kindled heauenly fyre in my fraile spirit by her from basenesse raysed That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed base thing I can no more endure to view but looking still on her I stand amazed at wondrous sight of so celestiall hew So when my toung would speak her praises dew it stopped is with thoughts astonishment and when my pen would write her titles true it rauisht is with fancies wonderment Yet in my hart I then both speake and write the wonder that my wit cannot endite SONNET IIII. NEw yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight and bidding th'old Adieu his passed date bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright And calling forth out of sad Winters night fresh loue that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower wils him awake and soone about him dight his wanton wings and darts of deadly power For lusty spring now in his timely howre is ready to come forth him to receiue and warnes the Earth with diuers colord flowre to decke hir selfe and her faire mantle weaue Then you faire flowre in whō fresh youth doth raine prepare your selfe new loue to entertaine SONNET V. RVdely thou wrongest my deare harts desire In finding fault with her too portly pride the thing which I doo most in her admire is of the world vnworthy most enuide For in those lofty lookes is close implide scorn of base things sdeigne of foule dishonor thretning rash eies which gaze on her so wide that loosely they ne dare to looke vpon her Such pride is praise such portlinesse is honor that boldned innocence beares in hir eies and her faire countenance like a goodly banner spreds in defiaunce of all enemies Was neuer in this world ought worthy tride without some spark of such self-pleasing pride SONNET VI. BE nought dismayd that her vnmoued mind doth still persist in her rebellious pride such loue not lyke to lusts of baser kynd the harder wonne the firmer will abide The duresull Oake whose sap is not yet dride is long ere it conceiue the kindling fyre but when it once doth burne it doth diuide great heat and makes his flames to heauen aspire So hard it is to kindle new desire in gentle brest that shall endure for euer deepe is the wound that dints the parts entire with chast affects that naught but death can seuer Then thinke not long in taking litle paine to knit the knot that euer shall remaine SONNET VII Fayre eyes the myrrour of my mazed hart what wondrous vertue is contaynd in you the which both lyfe and death forth frō you dart into the obiect of your mighty view For when ye mildly looke with louely hew then is my soule with life and loue inspired but when ye lowre or looke on me askew then doe I die as one with lightning fyred But since that lyfe is more then death desyred looke euer louely as becomes you best that your bright beams of my weak eies admyred may kindle liuing fire within my brest Such life should be the honor of your light such death the sad ensample of your might SONNET VIII MOre then most faire full of the liuing fire
former liues amend the old yeares sinnes forepast let vs eschew and fly the faults with which we did offend Then shall the new yeares ioy forth freshly send into the glooming world his gladsome ray and all these stormes which now his beauty blend shall turne to caulmes and tymely cleare away So likewise loue cheare you your heauy spright and chaunge old yeares annoy to new delight SONNET LXIII AFter long stormes and tempests sad assay Which hardly I endured heretofore in dread of death and daungerous dismay with which my silly barke was tossed sore I doe at length descry the happy shore in which I hope ere long for to arryue fayre soyle it seemes from far fraught with store of all that deare and daynty is alyue Most happy he that can at last atchyue the ioyous safety of so sweet a rest whose least delight sufficeth to depriue remembrance of all paines which him opprest All paines are nothing in respect of this all sorrowes short that gaine eternall blisse SONNET LXIIII. COmming to kisse her lyps such grace I found Me seemd I smelt a gardin of sweet flowres that dainty odours from thâ—m threw around for damzels fit to decke their louers bowres Her lips did smell lyke vnto Gillyflowers her ruddy cheekes lyke vnto Roses red her snowy browes lyke budded Bellamoures her louely eyes lyke Pincks but newly spred Her goodly bosome lyke a Strawberry bed her neck lyke to a bounch of Cullambynes her brest lyke lillyes ere theyr leaues be shed her nipples lyke yoâ—g blossomd Iessemynes Such â—ragrant flowres doe giue most odorous smell but her sweet odour did them all excell SONNET LXV THe doubt which ye misdeeme fayre loue is vaine That sondly feare to loose your liberty when loosing one two liberties ye gayne and make him bond that bondage earst dyd fly Sweet be the bands the which true loue doth tye without constraynt or dread of any ill the gentle birde feeles no captiuity within her cage but singes and feeds her fill There pride dare not approch nor discord spill the league twixt them that loyal loue hath bound but simple truth and mutuall good will seekes with sweet peace to salâ—e each others wouÌ„d There fayth doth fearlesse dwell in brasen towre and spotlesse pleasure builds her sacred bowre SONNET LXVI TO all those happy blessings which ye haue with plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown this one disparagement they to you gaue that ye your loue lent to so meane a one Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon could not on earth haue found one fit for mate ne but in heauen matchable to none whâ— did ye stoup vnto so lowly state But ye thereby much greater glory gate then had ye sorted with a princes pere for now your light doth more it selfe dilate and in my darknesse greater doth appeare Yet since your light hath once enlumind me with my reflex yours shall encreased be SONNET LXVII Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace Seeing the game from him escapt away sits downe to rest him in some shady place with panting hounds beguiled of their pray So after long pursuit and vaine assay when I all weary had the chace forsooke the gentle deare returnd the selfe-same way thinking to quench her thirst at the next brooke There she beholding me with mylder looke sought not to fly but fearelesse sâ—ill did bide till I in hand her yet halfe trembling tooke and with her owne goodwill hir fyrmely tyde Strange thing me seemd to see a beast so wâ—ld so goodly wonne with her owne will beguyld SONNET LXVIII MOst glorious Lord of lyfe that on this day Didst make thy triumph ouer death and sin and hauing harrowd hell didst bring away captiuity thence captiue vs to win This ioyous day deare Lord with ioy begin and grant that we for whom tbou diddest dye being with thy deare blood clene washt from sin may liue for euer in felicity And that thy loue we weighing worthily may likewise loue thee for the same againe and for thy sake that all lyke deare didst buy with loue may one another entertayne So let vs loue deare loue lyke as we ought loue is the lesson which the Lord vs taught SONNET LXIX THe famous warriors of the anticke world Vsed Trophees to â—rect in stately wize in which they would the records haue enrold of theyr great deeds and valarous emprize What trophee then shall I most fit deuize in which I may record the memory of my loues conquest peerelesse beauties priseâ— adorn'd with honour loue and chastity Euen this verse vowd to eternity shall be thereof immortall moniment and tell her prayse to all posterity that may admire such worlds rare wonderment The happy purchase of my glorious spoile gotten at last with labour and long toyle SONNET LXX FResh spring the herald of loues mighty king In whose cote armour richly are displayd all sorts of flowers the which on earth do spring in goodly colours gloriously arrayd Goe to my loue where she is carelesse layd yet in her winters bowre not well awake tell her the ioyous time wil not be staid vnlesse she doe him by the forelock take Bid her therefore her selfe soone ready make to wayt on loue amongst his louely crew where euery one that misseth then her make shall be by him amearst with penance dew Make hast therefore sweet loue whilest it is primeâ— for none can call againe the passed time SONNET LXXI I Ioy to see how in your drawen work Your selfe vnto the Bee ye doe compare and me vnto the Spyder that doth lurke in close awayt to catch her vnaware Right so your selfe were caught in cunning snare of a deare foe and thralled to his loue in whose streight bands ye now captiued are so firmely that ye neuer may remoue But as your worke is wouen all about with woodbynd flowers and fragrant Eglantine so sweet your prison you in time shall proue with many deare delights bedecked â—yne And all thensforth eternall peace shall see betweene the Spyder and the gentle Bee SONNET LXXII OFt when my spirit doth spred her bolder winges In mind to mount vp to the purest sky it down is weighd with thoght of earthly things and clogd with burden of mortality Where when that souerayne beauty it doth spy resembling heauens glory in her light drawne with sweet pleasures bayt it back doth fly and vnto heauen forgets her former flight There my fraile fancy fed with full delight doth bath in blisse and mantleth most at ease ne thinks of other heauen but how it might her harts desire with most contentment please Hart need not wish none other happinesse but here on earth to haue such heuens blisse SONNET LXXIII BEing my selfe captyued here in care My hart whom none with seruile bands can tye but the fayre tresses of your golden hayre breaking his priâ—on forth to you doth fly Lyke as a byrd that in ones hand doth spy desired food to it doth make his slight euen so my
hart that wont on your fayre eye to feed his fill flyes backe vnto your sight Doe you him take and in your bosome bright gently encage that he may be your thrall perhaps he there may learne with rare delight to sing your name and prayses ouer all That it hereafter may you not repent him lodging in your bosome to haue lent SONNET LXXIIII MOst happy letters fram'd by skilfull trade with which that happy name was first deâ—ynd the which three times thrise happy hath me made with guifts of body fortune and of mind The first my being to me gaue by kind from mothers womb deriu`d by dew descent the second is my souereigne Queene most kind that honour and large richesse to me lent The third my loue my liues last ornament by whom my spirit out of dust was raysed to speake her prayâ—e and glory excellent of all aliue most worthy to be praysed Ye three Elizabeths for euer liue that three such graces did vnto me giue SONNET LXXV ONe day I wrote her name vpon the strand but came the waues and washed it a way agayne I wrote it with a second hand but came the tyde and made my paynes his pray Vayne man sayd she that doest in vaine assay a mortall thing so to immortalize for I my selue shall lyke to this decay and eek my name bee wyped out lykewize Not so quod I let baser things deuize to dy in dust but you shall liue by fame my verse your vertues rare shall eternize and in the heuens wryte your glorious name Where whenas death shall all the world subdew our loue shall liue and later life renew SONNET LXXVI FAyre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure The neast of loue the lodging of delight the bowre of blisse the paradice of pleasure the sacred harbour oâ— that heuenly spright How was I rauisht with your louely sight and my frayle thoughts too rashly led astray whiles diuing deepe through amorous insight on the sweet spoyle of beautie they did pray And twixt her paps like early fruit in May whose haruest seemd to hasten now apace they loosely did theyr wanton winges display and there to rest themselues did boldly place Sweet thoughts I enuy your so happy rest which oft I wisht yet neuer was so blest SONNET LXXVII Was it a dreame or did I see it playne a goodly table of pure yvory all spred with iunâ—ats fit to entertayne the greatest Prince with pompous roialty Mongst which there in a siluer dish did ly twoo golden apples of vnualewd price far passing those which Hercules came by or those which Atalanta did entice Exceeding sweet yet voyd of sinfull vice That many sought yet none could euer taste sweet fruit of pleasure brought from paradice By loue himselfe and in his garden plasâ—e Her brest that table was so richly spredd my thoughts the guests which would thereon haue fedd SONNET LXXVIII Lackyng my loue I go from place to place lyke a young fawne that late hath lost the hynd and seeke each where where last I sawe her face whose ymage yeâ— I carry fresh in mynd I seeke the fields with her late footing â—ynd I seeke her bowre with her late presence deckt yet nor in field nor bowre I her can fynd yet field and bowre are full of her aspect But when myne eyes I thereunto direct they ydly back returne to me agayne and when I hope to see theyr trew obiect I fynd my selfe but fed with fancies vayne Ceasse then myne eyes to seeke her selfe to see and let my thoughts behold her selfe in mee SONNET LXXIX MEn call you fayre and you doe credit it For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see but the trew fayre that is the gentâ—e wit and vertuous mind is much more praysd of me For all the rest how euer fayre it be shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew but onely that is permanent and free from frayle corruption that doth flesh enâ—ew That is true beautie that doth argue you to be diuine and borne oâ— heauenly â—eedâ— deriu'd from that fayre Spirit from whom al true and perfect beauty did at first proceed He onely fayre and what he â—ayre hath made all other fayre lyke flowres vntymely â—ade SONNET LXXX AFter so long a race as I haue run Through Faery land which those six books coÌ„pile giue leaue to rest me being halfe â—ordonne and gather to my selfe new breath awhile Then as a steed refreshed after toyle out of my prison I will breake anew and stouâ—ly will that second worke assoyle with strong endeuour and attention dew Till then giue leaue to me in pleasant mew to sport my muse and sing my loues sweet praise the contemplation of whose heauenly hew my spirit to an higher pitch will rayse But let her prayses yet be low and meane fit for the handmayd of the Faery Queene SONNET LXXXI Fayre is my loue when her fayre golden heares with the loose wynd ye waâ—ing chance to marke fayre when the rose in her red cheâ—kes appeares or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke Fayre when her brest lyke a rich laden baâ—ke with pretious merchandize she forth doth lay fayre wheÌ„ that cloud of pryde which oâ—t doth dark her goodly light with smiles she driues away But fayrest she when so she doth display the gate with pearles and rubâ—es richly dight throgh which her words so wise do make their way to beare the message of her gentle spright The rest be works of natures wonderment but this the worke of harts astonishment SONNET LXXXII IOy of my life full oft for louing you I blesse my lot that was so lucky placed but then the more your owne mishap I rew that are so much by so meane loue embased For had the equall heuens so much you graced in this as in the rest ye mote inuent som heuenly wit whose verse could haue enchased your glorious name in golden moniment But since ye deignd so goodly to relent to me your thrall in whom is little worth that little that I am shall all be spent in setting your immortall prayses forth Whose lofty argument vplifting me shall lift you vp vnto an high degree SONNET LXXXIII MY hungry eyes through greedy couetiâ—e Still to behold the obiect of theyr payne with no contentment can themselues suffize but hauing pine and hauing not complayne For lacking it they cannot lyfe sustayne and seeing it they gaze on it the more in theyr amazement lyke Narcissus vayne whose eyes him staru'd so plenty makes me poreâ— Yet are myne eyes so filled with the store of that fayre sight that nothing else they brooke but loath the things which they did like before and can no more endure on them to looke All this worlds glory seemeth vayne to me and all theyr shewes but shadowes sauing she SONNET LXXXIIII LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull â—yre breake out that may her sacred peace molest ne one light glance of sensuall desyre Attempt to work
exceeds I may in trump of fame blaze ouer all Then would I decke her head with glorious bayes and fill the world with her victorious prayse SONNET XXX MY loue is lyke to yse and I to fyre how comes it then that this her cold so great is not dissolu'd through my so hot desyre but harder growes the more I her intreat Or how comes it that my exceeding heat is not delayd by her hart frosen cold but that I burne much more in boyling sweat and feele my flames augmented maniâ—old Whâ—t more miraculous thing may be told that fire which all thing melts should harden yseâ— and yse which is congeald with â—encelesse cold should kindle fyre by wonderfull deuyse Such is the powre of loue in gentle mind that it can alter all the course of kynd SONNET XXXI Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart giuen so goodly giftes of beauties grace whose pryde depraues each other better part and all those pretious ornaments deface Sith to all other beastes of bloody race a dreadfull countenaunce she giuen hathâ— that with theyr terrour al the rest may chaceâ— and warne to shun the daunger of theyr wrath But my proud one doth worke the greater sâ—ath through sweet allurement of her louely hew that she the better may in bloody bath of such poore thralls her cruell hands embrew But did she know how ill these two accord such cruelty she would haue soone abhord SONNET XXXII The paynefull smith with force of feruent heat the hardest yron soone doth mollify that with his heauy sledge he can it beat and fashion to what he it list apply Yet cannot all these flames in which I fry her hart more harde then yron soft awhit ne all the playnts and prayers with which I doe beat on th'anduyle of her stubberne wit But still the more she feruent sees my sit the more she frieseth in her wilfull pryde and harder growes the harder she is smit with all the plaâ—nts which to her be applyde What then remaines but I to ashes burne and she to stones at length all frosen turne SONNET XXXIII GReat wrong I doe I can it not deny to that most sacred Empresse my dear dred not finishing her Queene of faery that mote enlarge her liuing prayses dead But lodwick this of grace to me aread doe ye not thinck th'accomplishment of it sufficient worke for one mans simple head all were it as the rest but rudely wriâ— How then should I without another wit thinck euer to endure so taedious toyle sins that this one is tost with troublous â—it of a proud loue that doth my spirite spoyle Ceasse then till she vouchsafe to grawnt me rest or lend you me another liuing brest SONNET XXXIIII Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde by conduct of some star doth make her way whenas a storme hath dimd her trusty guyde out of her course doth wander far astray So I whose star that wont with her bright ray me to direct with cloudes is ouercast doe wander now in darknesse and dismay through hidden peâ—ils round about me plastâ— Yet hope I well that when this storme is past my Helice the lodestar of my lyfe will shine again and looke on me at last with louely light to cleare my cloudy grief Till then I wander carefull comfortlesse in secret sorow and sad pensiuenesse SONNET XXXV MY hungry eyes through greedy coâ—etize still to behold the obiect of their paine with no contentment can themselues suffize but hauing pine and hauing not complaine For lacking it they cannot lyfe sustayne and hauing it they gaze on it the more in their amazement lyke Narcissus vaine whose eyes him staru'd so plenty makes me poore Yet are mine eyes so filled with the store of that faire sight that nothing else they brooke but lothe the things which they did like before and can no more endure on them to looke All this worlds glory seemeth vayne to me and all their showes but shadowes sauing she SONNET XXXVI TEll me when shall these wearie woes haue end Or shall their ruthlesse torment neuer cease but al my daâ—es in pining languor spend without hope of aswagement or release Is there no meanes for me to purchace peace or make agreement with her thrilling eyes but that their cruelty doth still increace and dayly more augment my miseryes But when ye haue shewed all extremityes then thinke how litle glory ye haue gayned by slaying him whose lyfe though ye despyse mote haue your life in honour long maintayned But by his death which some perhaps will mone ye shall condemned be of many a one SONNET XXXVII WHat guyle is this that those her golden tresses She doth attyre vnder a net of gold and with slâ— skill so cunningly them dresses that which is gold or heare may scarse be told Is it that mens frayle eyes which gaze too bold she may entangle in that golden snare and being caught may craftily enfold theyr weaker harts which are not wel aware Take heed therefore myne eyes how ye doe â—tare hence forth too rashly on that guilefull net in which if euer ye entrapped are out of her bands ye by no meanes shall get Fondnesse it were for any being free to couet fetters though they golden bee SONNET XXXVIII A Rion when through tempests cruel wracke He forth was thrown into the greedy seas through the sweet musick which his harp did make allu'rd a Dolphin him from death to ease But my rude musick which was wont to please some dainty eares cannot with any skill the dreadfull tempest of her wrath appease nor moue the Dolphin from her stubborne will But in her pride she dooth perseuer still all carelesse how my life for her decayse yet with one word she can it saue or spill to spill were pitty but to saue were prayse Chose rather to be praysd for dooing good then to be blam'd for spilling guiltlesse blood SONNET XXXIX SWeet smile the daughter of the Queene of loue Expressing all thy mothers powrefull art with which she wonts to temper angry Ioue when all the gods he threats with thundring dart Sweet is thy vertue as thy selfe sweet art for when on me thou shinedst late in sadnesse a melting pleasance ran through euery part and me reuiued with hart robbing gladnesse Whylest rapt with ioy resembling heauenly madnes my soule was rauisht quite as in a traunce and feeling thence no more her sorowes sadnesse fed on the fulnesse of that chearefull glaunce â—ore sweet than Nectar or Ambrosiall meat seemd euery bit which thenceforth I did eat SONNET XL. MArk when she smiles with amiable cheare And tell me whereto can ye lyken it when on each eyelid sweetly doe appeare an hundred Graces as in shade to sit Lykest it seemeth in my simple wit vnto the fayre sunshine in somers day that when a dreadfull storme away is flit thrugh the broad world doth spred his goodly ray At sight whereof each bird that sits on spray and euery beast
her gentle mindes vnrest But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest modest thoughts breathd â—roÌ„ wel teÌ„pred sprites goe visit her in her chast bowre of rest accompanyde with angelick delightes There fill your selfe with those most ioyous sights the which my selfe could neuer yet attayne but speake no word to her of these sad plights which her too constant stiffenesse doth constrayn Onely behold her rare perfection and blesse your fortunes fayre election SONNET LXXXV THe world that cannot deeme of worthy things when I doe praise her say I doe but flatter so does the Cuckow when the Mauis sings begin his witlesse note apace to clatterâ— But they that skill not of so heauenly matter all that they know not enuy or admyre rather then enuy let them wonder at her but not to deeme of her desert aspyre Deepe in the closet of my parts entyre her worth is written with a golden quill that me with heauenly fury doth inspire and my glad mouth with her sweet prayses fill Which when as fame in her shrill trump shal thunder let the world chose to enuy or to wonder SONNET LXXXVI VEnemous toung tipt with vile adders stingâ— Of that selfe kynd with which the Furies â—ell theyr snaky heads doe combe from which a spring of poysoned words and spitefull speeches well Let all the plagues and horrid paines of hell vpon thee fall for thine accursed hyre that with false forged lyes which thou didst tel in my true loue did stirre vp coles of yre The sparkes whereof let kindle thine own fyre and catching hold on thine owne wicked hed consume thee quite that didst with guile conspire in my sweet peace such breaches to haue bred Shame be thy meed and mischiefe thy reward dew to thy selfe that it for me prepard SONNET LXXXVII SInce I did leaue the presence of my loue Many long weary dayes I haue outworne and many nights that slowly seemd to moue theyr sad protract from euening vntill morne For when as day the heauen doth adorne I wish that night the noyous day would end and when as night hath vs of light forlorne I wish that day would shortly reascend Thus I the time with expectation spend and faine my griefe with chaunges to beguile that further seemes his terme still to extend and maketh euery minute seeme a myle So sorrow still doth seeme too long to last but ioyous houres doo fly away too fast SONNET LXXXVIII SInce I haue lackt the comfort of that light The which was wont to lead my thoughts astray I wander as in darkenesse of the night affrayd of euery dangers least dismay Ne ought I see though in the clearest day when others gaze vpon theyr shadowes vayne but th`onely image of that heauenly ray whereof some glance doth in mine eie remayne Of which beholding th'Idae a playne through contemplation of my purest part with light thereof I doe my selfe sustayne and thereon feed my loue-affamisht hart But with such brightnesse why lest I fill my mind I starue my body and mine eyes doe blynd SONNET LXXXIX LYke as the Culuer on the bared bough Sits mourning for the absence of her mate and in her songs sends many a wishfull vew for his returne that seemes to linger late So I alone now left disconsolate mourne to my selfe the absence of my loue and wandring here and there all desolate seek with my playnts to match that mournful doue Ne ioy of ought that vnder heauen doth houe can comfort me but her owne ioyous sight whose sweet aspect both God and man can moue in her vnspotted pleasauns to delight Dark is my day whyles her fayre light I mis and dead my life that wants such liuely blis IN youth before I waxed old The blynd boy Venus baby For want of cunning made me bold In bitter hyue to grope â—or honny But when he saw me stung and cry He tooke his wings and away did fly As Diane hunted on a day She chaunst to come where Cupid lay his quiuer by his head One of his shaâ—ts she stole away And one of hers did close conuay into the others stead With that loue wounded my loues hart but Diane beasts with Cupids dart I Saw in secret to my Dame How little Cupid humbly came and sayd to her All hayle my motherâ— But when he saw me laugh for shameâ— His face with bashâ—ull blood did â—â—ame not knowing Venus from the otherâ— Then neuer blush Cupid quoth I for many haue err'd in this beautyâ— VPon a day as loue lay sweetly slumbring all in his mothers lap A gentle Bee with his loud trumpet murm'ring about him flew by hap Whereof when he was wakened with the noyse and saw the beast so small Whats this quoth he that giues so great a voyce that wakens men withall In angry wize he flyes about and threatens all with corage stout TO whom his mother closely smiling sayd twixt earnest and twixt game See thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made if thou regard the same And yet thou suâ—â—rest neyther gods in sky nor men in earth to rest But when thou art disposed cruelly theyr sleepe thou doost molest Then eyther change thy cruelty or giue lyke leaue vnto the fly NAthlesse the cruell boy not so content would needs the fly pursue And in his hand with heedlesse hardiment him caught for to subdue But when on it he hasty hand did lay the Bee him stung therefore Now ouâ— alasse he cryde and welaway I wounded am full sore The fly that I so much did scorne hath hurt me with his little horne VNto his mother straight he weeping came and of his griefe complayned Who could not chose but laugh at his fond game though sad to see him pained Think now quod she my sonne how great the smart of those whom thou dost wound Full many thou hast pricked to the hart that pitty neuer found Therefore henceforth some pitty take when thou doest spoyle of louers make SHe tooke him streight full pitiously lamenting and wrapt him in her smock She wrapt him softly all the while repenting that he the fly did mock She drest his wound and it embaulmed wel with sâ—lue of soueraigne might And then she bath'd him in a dainty well the well of deare delight Who would not oft be stung as this to be so bath'd in Venus blis THe wanton boy was shortly wel recured of that his malady But â—e soone after fresh againe enured his former cruelty And since that time he wounded hath my selfe with his sharpe dart of loue And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe his mothers heast to proue So now I languish till he please my pining anguish to appease FINIS Epithalamion YE learned sisters which haue oftentimes beene to me ayding others to adorne Whom ye thought worthy of your gracefull rymes That euen the greatest did not greatly scorne To heare theyr names sung in your simple layes But ioyed in theyr prayse And when ye list your owne mishaps to mourne Which death or loue