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
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
hatred and disdaine brought to their end Fierce Dragons which attemptours all purseu'de And which before none euer haue eschew'de At length who shall these golden apples gaine He shall alone be Perseus for his paine ELEGIE XIII Swift Atalanta when she lost the prise By gathering golden apples in her race Shewes how by th'apples of thine heauenly eyes Which fortune did hefore my passage place When for mine hartes contentement I did runne How I was hindred and my wager lost When others did the wagers worth surprise I vew'de thine eyes thus eyes vew'de to my cost Nor could I them enioy when all was donne But seeming as they did bright as the Sunne My course I stayd to vewe their fierie grace Whose sweet possession I could not comprise Th' Idaean shepheard when the strise begunne Amongst three goddesses as Iudge decreede The golden apple Venus did awarde Cause of the wast and downefall of proud Troye But when the graces had a sweet regard How fayre Parthenophe did her exceede And Venus now was from the world debarr'd One so much fayrer farre as to much coye Parthenophe the chose in Venus fleede And since her bewtie Venus did out goe Two golden apples were to her assigned Which apples all th' outrageous tumultes breede That are hep'd vp in my distressed minde Whose figure in enflamed Troye I finde The cheefe occasion of mine endlesse woe ELEGIE XIIII When I remember that accursed night When my deare bewtie said she must depart And the next morning leaue the Cities sight Ah then euen then blacke sorrow shew'de his might And plac'd his empyer in my vanquish't hart Mine hart still vanquish't yet assaulted still Burnt with loues out-rage from whose cleare torch light Fierce sorrow findes a way to spoile and kill Ah sorrow sorrow neuer satisfied And if not satisfied worke on thy will Oh deare departure of mine onely blisse When willing from the Citie thou did ryde And I made offer tho then wounded wyde To go with thee thou rashly didst refuse With me distrest to be accompanied And binding wordes imperious did'st vse Commaunding me an other way to chuse Ah then euen then in spirite crucified Mine eyes with teares mine hart with sighes and throbbes Those almost blind that hard swolnâ—… almost burst My braynes abiuring harbour to my muse Did leaue â—…hoaked almost with straite sobbes Ah be that hower and day for euer curst Which me of my lifes libertie did robbe For since that time I neuer saw my loue Long can we not be seuer'd I will follow Through woods through mountaines waues and caues made hollow Oh greefe of greefes extremitie the worst Still will I follow till I finde thee out And if my wish with trauell will not proue Yet shall my sorrowes trauell round about In wailefull Elegies and mournefull verse Vntill they finde and thee with pittie perce Meane while to see thee more standing in doubt I 'le sing my plaine-song with the Turtle doue And prick-song with the Nighting all rehearse ELEGIE XV. Oh deare remembraunce of my Ladyes eyes In minde whose reuolutions I reuolue To you mine harts bright guid-starres my soule cryes Vpon some happy sentence to resolue A sentence either of my life or death So bale me from the dungeon of dispaire On you I cry with interrupted breathe On you and none but you to crosse my care My care to crosse least I be crucified Aboue the patience of an humaine soule Do this Ah this and still be glorified Do this and let eternities enroule Thy fame and name let them enroule for euer In lasting recordes of still lasting steele Do this ah this and famous still perseuer Which in another age thy ghost shall feele Yet howsoeuer thou with me shall deale Thy bewtie shall perseuer in my verse And thine eyes wounde which thine hart would not heale And my complaintes which could not thine hart perce And thine hard hart thy bewties shamefull staine And that fowle staine thine endlesse infamie So though thou still in recorde do remaine The recordes reckon but thine obloquie When on the paper which my passionbeares Relenting readers for my sake shed teares ELEGIE XVI Ah were my teares as many writers bee Meere droppes of incke proceeding from my penne Then in these sable weedes you should not see Me seuer'd from societie of men Ah me all colours do mine eyes displease Saue those two colours of pure white and redde And yet I dare not florish it in these Because I can not for my colour 's dead Those colours florish round about each where But cheefely with my mistresse in their kinde And fayne I would her louely colours weare So that it might be pleasing to her minde But nought will please her ouer-cruell eye But blacke and payle on body and in face Then she triumphes in bewties tyrannie When she sees bewtie bewtie can disgrace When her sweet smiling eyes drye Vestâ—…es throane Can blubber'd bleare-eyes drowne in seaes of teares And laughes to here poore louers how they moane Ioyes in the paper which her prayses beares And for his sake that sent that schoedule teares What but pale enuie doth her hart assaile When she would be still fayre add laugh alone And for her sake all other's mourne and paile ELEGIE XVII Deare mistresse then my soule to me much dearer Wonder not that another writes my letter For sorrow still mine hart oppresseth nearer And extreame sicknesse doth my sinewes fetter Of my deare life to thy loue am I debter Thine is my soule then soule what can be meerer Thine my cheefe best then that what can better Absented farre and that which is farre worse Vnable either for to goe or ryde Here am I in perpetuall bondage tyed Then if with saluage Sauromates farre worse This ayer is loath some and this ayer I curse Because with thy sweet breathe it is not blest Though hot coole waters I can not abide Since the which thy cleare eyes as all the rest Be not as they sometimes were purified The ground I tread my footing doth infest Because it is not hallowed with thy feete I loath all meate for all meate is vnmeete Which is not eaten where thy sweet selfe feedest Nothing is pleasaunt louely rich or sweete Which doth not with his grace thy bewtie greete Ah too deare absence which this sicknesse breedest Of thy deare sweet which can not be too deare Yet if thou wilt voutch-safe my life to saue Write but one lyne one lyne my life will cheare The ransome of my life thy name will pay And I be freede from my much doubtfull feare ELEGIE XVIII If neither loue nor pittie can procure Thy ruthlesse hart subscribe to my content But if thou vow that I shall still endure This doubtfull feare which euer doth torment If to thine eyes thine hart can lend a fier Whiles could disdaine vpon them settes a locke To barre forth pittie which kinde harts desier Whiles the distrest make prayers to a rocke If that thine eyes send out
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