resound your praise admired My then greene Heart so brightly did eflame XII SONET To a worthy Lord now dead vpon presenting him for a New-yeares-gift with Caesars Commentaries and Cornelius Tacitus VVOrthily famous Lord whose vertues rare Set in the gold of neuer stain'd Nobility And noble mind shining in true humility Make you admir'd of all that vertuous are If as your Sword with enuy imitates Great Caesars sword in all his deeds victorious So your learn'd Pen would striue to be glorious And write your Acts perform'd in forreine States Or if some one with the deepe wit inspir'd Of matchlesse Tacitus would them historifie Then Caesars works so much we should not glorifie And Tacitus would be much lesse desir'd But till your selfe or some such put them forth Accept of these as Pictures of your worth XIII SONET He demaunds pardon for looking louing and writing LEt not sweete Saint let not these lines offend you Nor yet the message that these lines impart The message my vnfained Loue doth send you Loue which your selfe hath planted in my heart For being charm'd by the bewitching art Of those inueagling graces which attend you Loues holy fire makes me breath out in part The neuer-dying flames my brest doth lend you Then if my Lines offend let Loue be blamed And if my Loue displease accuse mine Eyes If mine Eyes sinne their sins cause only lies On your bright eyes which haue my heart inflamed Since eyes loue lines erre then by your direction Excuse mines eyes my Lines and my affection XIIII SONET Loue and Iustice punishable only with like loue BVt if my lines may not be held excused Nor yet my Loue find fauour in your Eyes But that your eyes as Iudges shall be vsed Euen of the fault which from themselues doth arise Yet this my humble suite do not despise Let me be iudged as I stand accused If but my fault my doome do equalize What ere it be it shall not be refused And since my loue already is expressed And that I cannot stand vpon denyall I freely put my selfe vpon my tryall Let Iustice iudge me as I haue confessed For if my doome in iustice scales be wayed With equall loue my loue must be repayed XV. SONET He calls his eares eyes and heart as witnesses of her sweet voice beauty and inward vertuous perfections FAire is thy face and great thy wits perfection So faire alas so hard to be exprest That if my tyred Pen should neuer rest It should not blaze thy worth but my affection Yet let me say the Muses make election Of your pure mind there to erect their nest And that your face is such a flint-hard brest By force thereof without force feeles subiection Witnesse mine eare rauisht when you it heares Witnesse mine eyes rauisht when you they see Beauty and vertue witnesse eyes and eares In you sweete saint of equall soueraignty But if nor eyes nor eares can proue it true Witnesse my heart ther 's none that equalls you How they make my poore heart at once to dwell In fire and frost in heauen and in hell XVI SONET Praise of her eyes excelling all comparison I Bend my wit but wit cannot deuise Words fit to blaze the worth your eyes containes Whose namelesse worth their worthles name disdains For they in worth exeeede the name of eyes Eyes they be not but worlds in which there lyes More blisse then this wide world besides containes Worlds they be not but stars whose influence raignes Ouer my life and liues felicities Stars they be not but suns whose presence driues Darkenesse from night and doth bright day impart Suns they be not which outward heate deriues But these do inwardly in flame my heart Since then in Earth nor Heauen they equal'd are I must confesse they be beyond compare XVII SONET Contention of Loue and Reason for his heart REason and loue lately at strife contended Whose right it was to haue my minds protection Reason on his side Natures will pretended Loues title was my Mistresse rare perfection Of power to end this strife each makes election Reasons pretence discoursiue thoughts defended But loue soone brought these thoughts into subiection By beauties troopes which on my Saint depended Yet since to rule the mind was Reasons duty On this condition it by loue was rendred That endlesse praise by reason should be tendred As a due tribute to her conquering beauty Reason was pleasde withall and to loues royalty He pledg'd my heart as hostage for his loyalty XVIII SONET That she hath greater power ouer his happinesse and life then either Fortune Fate or Stars LEt fate my Fortune and my stars conspire Ioyntly to poure on me their worst disgrace So I be gracious in your heauenly face I weigh not Fates nor Starres nor Fortunes yre T' is not the influence of heauens fire Hath power to make me blessed in my race Nor in my happinesse hath Fortune place Nor yet can Fate my poore lifes date expire T' is your faire eyes my Starres all blisse do giue T' is your disdaine my Fate hath power to kill T' is you my Fortune make me happy liue Though Fortune Fate and Starres conspire mine ill Then blessed Saint into your fauour take me Fortune nor Fate nor Stars can wretched make me XIX SONET Of his Ladies weeping VVHat neede I say how it doth wound my brest By fate to be thus rauisht from thine eyes Since your owne teares by me doth simpathize Pleading with slow departure there to rest For when with flouds of teares they were opprest Ouer those Iuory bancks they did not rise Till others enuying their felicities Did presse them forth that they might there beare rest Some of which teares prest forth by violence Your lips with greedy kissing straight did drinke And othersome vnwilling to part thence Inamour'd on your cheekes in them did sinke And some which from your face were forc'd away In signe of loue did on your garment stay XX. SONET He paints out his torment SWeete to my cursed life some fauour show Or let me not accurst in life remaine Let not my sences sence of life retaine Since sence doth only yeeld me sence of woe For now mine eyes only your frownes do know Mine eares heare nothing else but your disdaine My lips taste nought but teares and smell is paine Banisht your lips where Indian Odours grow And my deuoted heart your beauties slaue Feeles nought but scorne oppressions and distresse Made eu'n of wretchednesse the wretched caue Nay too too wretched for vild wretchednesse For euen sad sighs as loathing there to rest Struggle for passage from my griefe-swolne brest XXI SONET His sighs and teares are bootlesse I Haue intreated and I haue complayned I haue disprais'd and prayse I likewise gaue All meanes to win her grace I tryed haue And still I loue and still I am disdained So long I haue my tongue and Pen constrained To praise dispraise complaine and pitty craue That now nor
binde Who diuers verse to diuers matter frame All kind of stiles do serue my Ladies name What they in all the world in her I find The lofty verse doth shew her noble mind By which she quencheth loues inraged flame Sweet Liricks sing her heauenly beauties fame The tender Elege speakes her pitty kind In mournefull Tragicke verse for her I dye In Comicke she reuiues me with her eye All serue my Goddesse both for mirth and mone Each looke she casts doth breede both peace and strife Each word she speakes doth cause both death and life Out of my selfe I liue in her alone XXXII SONET Desire hath conquered reuenge WRong'd by desire I yeelded to disdaine Who call'd reuenge to worke my spite thereby Rash was reuenge and sware Desire should die No price nor prayer his pardon might obtaine Downe to my heart in rage he hasts amaine And stops each passage least Desire should flye Within my eares disdainefull words did lie Proud lookes did keepe mine eyes with scornful traine Desire that earst but flickred in my brest And wanton like now prickt now gaue me rest For feare of death sunke deeper in my heart There raignes he now and there will raigne alone Desire is iealous and giues part to none Nor he from me nor I from him can start XXXIII SONET To his eyes VNhappy eyes the causer of my paine That to my soe betraid my strongest hold Wherein he like a tyrant now doth raigne And bosts of winning that which reason sold Too late you call for helpe to me in vaine Whō loue hath bound in chains of massie gold The teares you shed increase my hot desire As water on the Smithie kindles fire The sighs that from my heart ascend Like wind dispearst the flame throughout my brest No part is left to harbuor quiet rest I burne in fire and do not spend Like him whose growing maw The vulture still doth gnaw XXXIIII SONET Ten Sonets to Philomel Sonet I. Vpon Loues entring by the eares OFt did I heare our eyes the passage weare By which Loue entred to assaile our hearts Therefore I garded them and void of feare Neglected the defence of other parts Loue knowing this the vsuall way forsooke And seeking found a by-way by mine eare At which he entring my heart prisoner tooke And vnto thee sweete Phylomel did beare Yet let my heart thy heart to pittty moue Whose paine is great although small fault appeare First it lies bound in fettring chaines of loue Then each day it is rackt with hope and feare And with loues flames t is euermore consumed Only because to loue thee it presumed XXXV SONET O Why did Fame my heart to loue betray By telling my Deares vertue and perfection Why did my Traytor eares to it conuey That Syren-song cause of my hearts infection Had I beene deafe or Fame her gifts concealed Then had my heart beene free from hopelesse Loue Or were my state likewise by it reuealed Well might it Philomel to pitty moue Then should she know how loue doth make me languish Distracting me twixt hope and dreadfull feare Then should she know my care my plaints and anguish All which for her deare sake I meekely beare Yea I could quietly deaths paines abide So that she knew that for her sake I dide XXXVI SONET Of his owne and his Mistresse sicknesse at one time SIcknesse entending my loue to betray Before I should sight of my deere obtaine Did his pale colours in my face display Lest that my fauour might her fauour gaine Yet not content herewith like meanes it wrought My Philomels bright beauty to deface And natures glory to disgrace it sought That my conceiued loue it might displace But my firme loue could this assault well beare Which vertue had not beauty for his ground And yet bright beames of beauty did appeare Through sicknesse vaile which made my loue abound If sicke thought I her beauty so excell How matchlesse would it be if she were well XXXVII SONET Another of her sicknesse and recouery PAle Death himselfe did loue my Philomell When he her vertues and rare beauty saw Therefore he sicknesse sent which should expell His riuals life and my deare to him draw But her bright beauty dazled so his eyes That his dart life did misse though her it hit Yet not therewith content new meanes he tries To bring her vnto Death and make life flit But Nature soone perceiuing that he meant To spoyle her onely Phoenix her chiefe pride Assembled all her force and did preuent The greatest mischiefe that could her betide So both our liues and loues Nature defended For had she di'de my loue and life had ended XXXVIII SONET Allusion to Theseus voyage to Crete against the Minotaure MY loue is sail'd against dislike to fight Which like vild monster threatens his decay The ship is hope which by desires great might Is swiftly borne towards the wished bay The company which with my loue doth fare Though met in one is a dissenting crew They are ioy griefe and neuer-sleeping care And doubt which neere beleeues good newes for true Blacke feare the flag is which my ship doth beare Which Deere take downe if my loue victor be And let white comfort in his place appeare When loue victoriously returnes to me Least I from rocke despaire come tumbling downe And in a sea of teares be for'st to drowne XXXIX SONET Vpon her looking secretly out at a window as he passed by ONce did my Philomel reflect on me Her Cristall pointed eyes as I past by Thinking not to be seene yet would me see But soone my hungry eies their food did spy Alas my deere couldst thou suppose that face Which needs not enuy Phoebus chiefest pride Could secret be although in secret place And that transparant glasse such beames could hide But if I had beene blinde yet Loues hot flame Kindled in my poore heart by thy bright eye Did plainly shew when it so neere thee came By more the vsuall heate then cause was nie So though thou hidden wert my heart and eye Did turne to thee by mutuall Sympathy XL. SONET WHen time nor place would let me often view Natures chiefe Mirror and my sole delight Her liuely picture in my heart I drew That I might it behold both day and night But she like Philips Sonne scorning that I Should portraiture which wanted Apelles Art Commanded Loue who nought dare her deny To burne the picture which was in my heart The more loue burn'd the more her Picture shin'd The more it shin'd the more my heart did burne So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd To my hearts ruine and decay did turne Loue could not burne the Saint it was diuine And therefore fir'd my heart the Saints poore shrine XLI SONET To the Sunne of his Mistresse beauty eclipsed with frownes WHen as the Sunne eclipsed is some say It thunder lightning raine wind portendeth And not vnlike but such things happen may Sith like effects
so must I For when of pleasure she doth sing My thoughts enioy a sodaine spring But if she doe of sorrow speake Eu'n from my heart the strings do breake Tho. Campion XLVI CANZONET Vpon his Ladies sickenesse of the Poxâ— CRuell and vnpartiall sickensse Sword of that Arch-Monarke death That subdues all strength by weakenesse Whom all kings pay tribute breath Are not these thy steps I tracke In the pure snow of her face When thou did'st attempt to sacke Her liues fortresse and it race Th'heauenly hony thou didst sucke From her Rose cheeks might suffice Why then didst thou marre and plucke Those deere flowers of rarest price Mean'st thou thy Lord to present With those rich spoiles and adorne Leauing me them to lament And in Inkes black teares thus mourne No I le in my bosome weare them And close lock them in my heart Thence nor time nor death shall beare them Till I from my selfe depart XLVII CANZONET In the grace of wit of tongue and face Her face her tongue her wit so faire so sweet so sharpe First bent theÌ„ drew now hit mine eye mine eare my hart Mine eye mine eare my heart to like to learne to loue Her face hir tong hir wit doth lead doth teach doth moue Her face her tong hir wit with beams with souÌ„d with art Doth blind doth charme doth rule mine eie mine eare Mine eie mine eare my hart with life with hope with skil my heart Her face her tong her wit doth feed doth feast doth fill O face o tong o wit with frowns with checks with smart wring not vex not wouÌ„d not mine eie mine eare my hart This eie this eare this hart shal ioy shal bind shal sweare Your face your tong your wit to serue to loue to feare XLVIII CANZONET An inuectiue against women ARe women faire I wondrous faire to see too Are women sweet Yea passing sweet they be to Most faire and sweete to them that in lye loue them Chast and discreete to all saue those that proue them Are women wise Not wise but they be witty Are women witty Yea the more the pitty They are so witty and in wit so wily That be ye ne're so wise they will beguile ye Are women fooles Not fooles but fondlings many Can women fond be faithfull vnto any When snow-white swans do run to colour sable Then women fond will be both firme and stable Are women Saints No Saints nor yet no diuels Are women good not good but needfull euils So Angel-like that diuels I do not doubt them So needfull ils that few can liue without them Are women proud I passing proud and praise them Are women kind I wondrous kind and please them Or so imperious no man can endure them Or so kind hearted any may procure them Ignote XLIX CANZONET This song was sung before her sacred Maiestie at a shew on horsebacke wherewith the right Honourable the Earle of Cumberland presented her Highnesse on May day last Of loue gift VVHo giues a gift to bind a friend thereby Doth set or put his gift to vsury And he that giues a gift that is not free Giues where he list so that he giue not me For bought and sold is friendship strange Who liues by selling liues by change And he that loues to change his friend Will turne to nothing in the end L. CANZONET The Anatomie of Loue. NOw what is loue I pray thee tell It is that fountaine and that well Where pleasure and repentance dwell It is perhaps that sounding bell That tols all in to heauen or hell And this is loue as I heare tell Now what is Loue I prethee say It is a worke on holy day It is December match'd with May When lusty bloods in fresh array Heare ten months after of their play And this is loue as I heare say Now what is loue I prethee faine It is a sun-shine mixt with raine It is a gentle pleasing paine A flower that dyes and springs againe It is in faith that would full faine And this is loue and not a staine Yet what is loue I prethee say It is a pretty shaddow way As well found out by night as day It is a thing will soone decay Then take the vantage while you may And this is loue as I heare say Now what is loue I prethee show A thing that creepes and cannot goe A prize that passeth too and fro A thing for one a thing for moe And he that proues shall find it so And this is some sweet friend I trow In vaine I liue such sorrow liues in me In vaine liues sorrow since by her I liue Life workes in vaine where death will Master be Death striues in vaine where life doth vertue giue Thus each of vs would worke anothers woe And hurts himselfe in vaine and helpes his foe LI. CANZONET Loue the onely price of loue THe fairest Pearles that Northerne Seas do breed For precious stones from Easterne coasts are sold Nought yeelds the earth that from exchange is freed Gold values all and all things value Gold Where goodnesse wants an equall change to make There greatnesse serues or number place doth take No mo tall thing can beare so high a price But that with mortall thing it may be bought The corne of Sicill buyes the Westerne spice French wine of vs of them our cloth is sought No pearles no gold no stones no corne no spice No cloth no wine of loue can pay the price What thing is loue which nought can counteruaile Nought saue it selfe eu'n such a thing is loue All worldly wealth in worth as farre doth faile As lowest earth doth yeeld to heau'n aboue Diuine is loue and scorneth worldly pelfe And can be bought with nothing but it selfe Such is the price my louing heart would pay Such is the pay thy loue doth claime as due Thy due is loue which I poore I assay In vaine assay to quite with friendship true True is my loue and true shall euer be And truest loue is farre too base for thee Loue but thy selfe and loue thy selfe alone For saue thy selfe none can thy loue requite All mine thou hast but all as good as none My small desart must take a lower flight Yet if thou wilt vouchsafe my heart such blisse Accep it for thy prisoner as it is The end of the second Booke THE THIRD BOOKE OF Pastorals and Eliges Two Pastorals made by Sir Phillip Sidney Vpon his meeting with his two worthy Friends and fellow Poets Sir Edward Dier and M. Fulke Greuill I. PASTORALL IOyne mates in mirth to me Grant pleasure to our meeting Let Pan our good God see How gratefull is our greeting Ioyne hearts and hands so let it be Make but one mind in bodies three Ye Hymnes and singing skill Of God Apolloes giuing Be prest our reeds to fill With sound of musicke liuing Ioyne hearts and hands c. Sweete Orpheus Harpe whose â—â—â—nd The stedfast mountaines moued Let here thy skill abound To
hath me almost slaine As Phaebus heate ah no farre worse then his It is Astreas burning-hot disdaine That parched hath the roote of all my blisse That hath alas my youth defaced That in my face deep wounds hath placed Ah that no heat Can dry the weat The flowing weate of my still weeping eyes Ah that no weate Can quench the heate The burning heate within my heart that lies Thou dost poore wretch beare many a bitter stound While greedy swaines forgetting former neede With crooked plowes thy tender backe do wound With harrowes biting teeth do make thee bleede But earth so may those greedy swaynes With piteous eye behold thy paines O earth tell me When thou dost see Thy fruitfull backe with golden eares beset Doth not that ioy Kill all annoy And make thee all thy former wounds forget And I if once my tired heart might gaine The haruest faire that to my faith is due If once I might Astreas grace regaine If once her heart would on my sorrowes rue Alas I could these plaints forgoe And quite forget my former woe But O! to speake My heart doth breake For all my seruice faith and patient mind A crop of griefe Without reliefe A crop of scorne and of contempt I finde Soone as the Shepheards starre abroad doth wend Nights harbinger to shut in brightsome day And gloomy night on whom blacke clouds attend Doth Tyrant-like through sky vsurpe the sway Thou art poore earth of sunne depriued Whose beames to thee all ioy deriued But when Aurore Doth ope her dore Her purple doore to let in Phoebus waine The night giues place Vnto his race And then with ioy the Sunne returnes againe O would my Sunne would once returne againe Returne and driue away th' infernall night In which I dye since she did first refraine Her heauenly beames which were mine onely light In her alone all my light shin'd And since she shin'd not I am blind Alas on all Her beames do fall Saue wretched me whom she doth them deny And blessed day She giues alway To all but me who still in darkenesse lie In mourneful darknesse I alone do lie And wish but scarcely hope bright day to see For hop'd so long and wish't so long haue I As hopes and wishes both abandon mee My night hath lasted fifteene yeares And yet no glimpse of day appeares O doe not let Him that hath set His ioy his light his life in your sweete grace Be vnrelieu'd And quite depriu'd Of your deare sight which may this night displace Phoebus although with fiery hoosed steedes Thou daylie doe the sleepy Welkin beate And from this painefull taske art neuer freede But dailye bound to lend the world thy heate Though thou in fierie chariot ride And burning heate thereof abide Yet soone as night Doth dim the light And hale her fable Cloake through vaulted skie Thy iourne's ceast And thou doest rest In cooling waues of Thetis soueraigntie Thrice happy Sun whose paines are eas'd by night O haplesse I whose woes last night and day My paines by day doe make me wish for night My woes by night doe make me cry for day By day I turmoile vp and downe By night in seas of teares I drowne O painefull plight O wretched night Which neuer finds a morne of ioyfull light O sad decay O wretched day That neuer feeles the case of silent night Ye chirping Birds whose notes might ioy my mind If to my mind one drop of ioy could sinke Who erst through Winters rage were almost pinde And kept through barren frost from meate or drinke A blessed change ye now haue seene That changed hath your wofull teene By day you sing And make to ring The neighbour groues with Eccho of your song In silent night Full closely dight You soundly sleepe the bushes greene among But I who erst ah wofull word to say Enioy'd the pleasant spring of her sweete grace And then could sing and dance and sport and play Since her fierce anger did my spring diâ—place My nightly rest haue turn'd to detriment To plaints hath turn'd my wonted merriment The Songs I sing While day doth spring Are bootlesse plaints till I can plaine no more The rest I tast While night doth last Is broken sighes till they my heart make sore Thou flower of the field that erst didst fade And nipt with Northerne cold didst hang the head And trees whose bared bowes haue lost their shade Whose withered leaues by westerne blasts were shed Ye'gin to bud and spring againe Winter is gone that did you straine But I that late With vpright gate Bare vp my head while happy fauour lasted Now old am growne Now ouerthrowne With woe with griefe with wailing now am wasted Your springing stalke with kindly ioyce doth sprout My fainting legs doe wast and fall away Your stretched armes are clad with leaues about My griefe-consumed armes doe fast decay You gin againe your tops lift vp I downe to earth-ward gin to stoope Each bowe and twig Doth waxe so big That scarce the rinde is able it to hide I doe so faint And pine with plaint That slops and hose and Galage wax too wide Eccho how well may she that makes me mone By thy example learne to rue my paine Thou hearst my plaints when as I waile alone And wailing accents answerest againe When as my breast through griefe I beate That wofull sound thou dost repeate When as I sob And heartly throb A dolefull sobbing sound againe thou sendest And when I weepe And sigh full deepe A weepy sighing voyce againe thou lendest But ah how oft haue my sad plaints assaide To pierce her eares deafe onely vnto me How oft my woes in mournefull inke arraide Haue tride to make her eyes my griefes to see And you my sighes and teares how often Haue ye sought her hard heart to soften And yet her eye Doth still deny For all my woes one bitter teare to shed And yet her heart Will not impart One hearty sigh for griefe her selfe hath bred Nor I alas do wish that her faire eyes Her blessed making eyes should shed a teare Nor that one sigh from her deare brest should rise For all the paines the woes the wrongs I beare First â—e this weight oppresse me still Ere she through me taste any ill Ah if I might But gaine her fight And shew her ere I dye my wretched case O then should I Contented die But ah I dye and hope not so much grace With that his fainting legs to shrinke begun And let him sinke with gasâ—ly looke to ground And there he lay as though his life were done Till that his Dog seeing that woofull stound With pitteous howling kissing and with scraping Brought him againe from that sweete sowre escaping Then gan his teares so swiftly for to flow As forst his eie-lids for to giue them way Then blustring sighs too boystrously gan blow And his weake lips could not his furie stay And inward griefe withall so hugely swel'd As
I both night and day She to a candle runnes I to a light farre brighter then the Sunnes She neere at hand is fired I both neere hand and farre away retyred She fondly thinkes nor dead nor burnt to be But I my burning and my death foresee XIIII MADRIGALL Answeres to her question what Loue was IF I hehold your Eyes Loue is a Paradice But if I view my hart T is an infernal smart XIIII MADRIGALL Vpon his timerous silence in her presence Are louers full of fire How comes it then my verses are so cold And how when I am nigh her And fit occasion wils me to be bold The more I burne the more I do desire The lesse I dare require Ah loue this is thy wondrous art To freeze the tongue and fire the heart XV. MADRIGALL Vpon her long absence IF this most wretched and most infernall anguish Wherein so long your absence makes me languish My vitall spirits spending Do not worke out my ending Nor yet your long-expected safe returning To heau'nly ioy my hellish torments turning With ioy so ouer-fill me As presently it kill me I will conclude hows'euer schooles deceiue a man No Ioy nor Sorrow can of life bereaue a man XVI MADRIGALL Vpon her hiding her face from him Goe wayling Accents go With my warme teares and scalding teares attended T th' author of my woe And humbly aske her why she is offended Say Deere why hide you so From him your blessed Eyes Where he beholds his earthly Paradise Since he hides not from you His heart wherein loues heauen you may view XVII MADRIGALL Vpon her beauty and Inconstancy VVHosoeuer longs to try Both loue and lealousie My faire vnconstant Lady let him see And he will soone a iealous louer be Then he by proofe shall know As I do to my woe How they make my poore heart at once to dwell In fire and frost in heauen and in hell XVIII MADRIGALL THine eyes so bright Bereft my sight When first I viewed thy face So now my light Is turn'd to night I stray from place to place Then guide me of thy kindnesse So shall I blesse my blindnesse XIX MADRIGALL Verball loue IF loue be made of words as woods of trees Who more belou'd then I If loue be hot where true desire doth freeze Who more then she doth fry Are droanes that make no hony counted Bees Is running water dry Is that a gainefull trade that has no fees He liue that dead doth lye What else but blinde is he that nothing sees But deafe that heares no cry Such is her vowed loue to me Yet must I thinke it true to be XX. MADRIGALL In praise of two FAustina hath the fairer face And Phillida the better grace Both haue mine eye enriched This sings full sweetly with her voyce Her fingers make as sweet a noyse Both haue mine eare bewitched Ay me sith Fates haue so prouided My heart alas must be diuided XXI MADRIGALL To his Ladies garden being absent farre from her GArden more then Eden blessed Art thou thus to haue thy bowers Free'd from winter and still dressed With her faces heau'n-set flowers Happy too are those thy allies Where her faire feet deigne to tred Which departing earths low vallies Shall to the milky way be led Thy trees whose armes her embraced And whose fruit her lips do kisse In whose vertuous mind well placed The rare tree of knoweldge is Happy are so thy birds be Whom she taught to sing by art Who in heauenly harmony With the Angels beares a part Happy blest and fortunate Bowers Allies Trees and Birds But my most vnhappy state Farre surmounts all reach of words XXII MADRIGALL The True loues knot LOue is the linke the knot the band of vnity And all that loue do loue with their belou'd to be Loue only did decree To change his kind in me For though I lou'd with all the powers of my mind And through my restles thoghts their rest in her did find Yet are my hopes declin'd Sith she is most vnkind But since her beauties Sun my fruitlesse hope did breede By â—â—â—nce from that Sun I hop't to sterue that weede Though absence did indeed My hopes not sterue but feede For when I shift my place like to the stricken Deere I cannot shift the shaft which in my side I beare By me it resteth there The cause is not else where So haue I seene the sick to runne and turne againe As if that outward change could ease his inward paine But still alas in vaine The fit doth still remaine Yet goodnes is the spring from whence this ill doth grow For goodnes caus'd the loue which great respect did owe Respect true loue did show True loue thus wrought my woe XXIII MADIGALL MY loue in her attire doth shew her wit It doth so well become her For euery season she hath dressings fit For winter spring and summer No beauty she doth misse When all her Robes are on But beauties selfe she is When all her Robes are gone The end of the Madrigalls Of Odes I. ODE That only her beauty and voyce please him 1 PAssions may my iudgement bleare Therefore sure I will not sweare That others are not pleasing But I speake it to my paine And my life shall it mainetaine None else yeelds my heart easing 2 Ladies I do thinke there be Other-some as faire as she Though none haue fairer features But my turtle-like affâ—ction Since of her I made Election Scornes other fairest creatures 3 Surely I will not deny But some others reach as high With their sweete warbling voices But since her notes charm'd mine eare Euen the sweetest tunes I heare To me seeme rude harsh noyses II. ODE Vpon her protestation of kind affection hauing tryed his sincere fidelitie 1 LAdy you are with beauties so enriched Of body and of minde As I can hardly find Which of theÌ„ all hath most my heart bewitched 2 Whether your skin so white so smooth so tender Or face well form'd and faire Or heart ensnared haire Or dainty hand or legge and foote so slender 3 Or whether your sharpe wit and liuely spirit Where Pride can find no place Or your enchanting grace Or speech which doth true eloquence inherit 4 Most louely all and each of them do moue me More then words can expresse But yet I must confesse I loue you most because you please to loue me III. ODE His restlesse estate YOur presence breeds my anguish Your absence makes me languish Your sight with woe doth fill me And want of your sweete sight alas doth kill me If those deare eyes that burne me With milde aspect you turne me For life my weake heart panteth If frowningly my spirit and life bloud fainteth If you speake kindly to me Alas kind words vndoe me Yet silence doth dislike me And one vnkind ill word starke dead would strike me Thus sunne nor shade doth ease me Nor speech nor silence please me Fauours and frownes annoy me Both want and
pleasure equally destroy me IIII. ODE Being by his absence in Italy depriued of her lookes words and gestures be desireth her to write vnto him MY only starre Why why are your deare eyes Where all my lifes peace lies With me at warre Why to my ruine tending Do they still lighten woe On him that loues you so 2 Hope of my heart O whereof do the words Which your sweete tongue affords No hope impart But cruell without measure To my eternall paine Still thunder forth disdaine On him whose life depends vpon your pleasure 3 Sunshine of ioy Why do your gestures which All eyes and hearts bewitch My blisse destroy And pitties skye ore-clouding Of hate an endlesse showre On that poore heart still powre Which in your bosome seekes this only shrowding 4 Blame of my wound Why are your lines whose sight Should cure me with delight My poson found Which through my veines dispersing Make my poore heart and mind And all my sences find A liuing death in torments past rehearsing 5 Alas my fate Hath of your eyes leprlu'd me Which both kil'd and reuiu'd me And sweetned hate Your sweete voyce and sweete graces Which cloath'd in louely weeds Your cruell words and deeds Are intercepted by farre distant places 6 But O the Anguish Which presence still presented Absence hath not absented Nor made to languish No no t' encrease my paining The cause being ah remoued For which th' effect I loued Th' effect is still in greatest force remaining 7 O cruell Tyger If to your hard hearts center Teares vowes and Prayers may enter Desiâ—t your rigour And let kind lines assure me Since to my deadly wound No salue else can be found That you that kil me yet at length wil cure me V. ODE His farewell to his vnkind and vnconstant Mistris SWeete if you like and loue me still And yeeld me loue for my good will And do not from your promise start When your faire hand gaue me your heart If deere to you I be As you are deere to me Then yours I am and will be euer Nor time nor place my loue shall seuer But faithfull still I will perseuer Like constant Marble stone Louing but you alone But if you fauour moe then me Who loue thee deare and none but thee If others do the Haruest gaine That 's due to me for all my paine If you delight to range And oft to chop and change Then get you some new fangled Mate My doating loue shall turne to hate Esteeming you though too too late Not worth a pebble stone Louing not me alone VI. ODE A Presopopaeia Wherein his heart speakes to his second Ladies brest I Dare not in my Masters bosome rest That flaming Aetna would to ashes burne me Nor dare I harbour in his mistresse brest The frosty Climate into Ice would turne me So both from her and him I do retire me Least th' one should freeze me and th' other fire me Wing'd with true loue I flye to this sweete brest Whose snow I hope will coole but t'ice not turne me Where fire and snow I trust so tempred rest As gentle heate will warme and yet not burne me But O deare brest from thee I le ne'reretire me Whether thou coole or warme or freeze or fire me VIII ODE Vpon her giuing him backe the Paper wherein the former Song was written as though it had beene an answere thereunto LAdy of matchlesse beauty When into your sweete bosome I deliuered A paper with wan lookes and hand that quiuered Twixt hope feare loue and duty Thought you it nothing else contain'd But written words in Rime restrain'd O then your thought abused was My hart close wrapt therein into your breast refused waâ— When you that Scroule restor'd me With gratefull words kind grace and smiling merily My breast did swell with ioy supposing verily You answere did afford me But finding onely that I writ I hop't to find my Hart in it But you my hope abused had And poyson of despaire in stead thereof infused had Why why did you torment me With giuing backe my humble Rymes so hatefully You should haue kept both heart and paper gratefully Or both you should haue sent me Hope you my Heart thence to remoue By scorning me my Lines my Loue No no your hope abused is Too deepe to be remou'd it in your brest infused is O shall I hide or tell it Deere with so spotlesse zealous firme Affection I loue your beauty vertue and perfection As nothing can expell it Scorne still my Rimes my Loue despight Pull out my Heart yea kill me quite Yet will your hate abused be For in my very soule your loue and lookes infused be VIII ODE Commendation of her beautie stature behauiour and wit SOme there are as faire to see too But by Art and not by Nature Some as tall and goodly be too But want beauty to their stature Some haue gracious kind behauiour But are foule or simple creatures Some haue wit but want sweete fauour Or are proud of their good features Onely you and you want pitty Are most faire tall kind and witty IX ODE That all other Creatures haue their abiding in heauen hell earth ayre water or fire but he in all of them IN heau'n the blessed Angels haue their being In hell the fiends appointed to damnation To men and beasts earth yeelds firme habitation The wing'd Musitians in the ayre are fleeing With finnes the people gliding Of water haue the enioying In fire all else destroying The Salamander findes a strange abiding But I poore wretch since I did first aspire To loue your beauty beauties all excelling Haue my strange diuerse dwelling In heau'n hell earth water ayre and Fier Mine eare while you do sing in Heau'n remaineth My mind in hell through hope and feares contention Earth holds my drossie wit and dull inuention Th' ill food of ayrie sighes my life sustaineth To streames of teares still flowing My weeping eyes are turned My constant heart is burned In quenchlesse fire within my bosome glowing O foole no more no more so high aspire In heau'n is no beauty more excelling In hell no such pride dwelling Nor heart so hard in earth ayre water fire X. ODE His Lady to be condemned of ignorance or crueltie AS she is faire so faithfull I My seruice she her grace I merit Her beauty doth my loue inherit But grace she doth denie O knowes she not how much I loue Or doth knowledge in her moue No small remorce For the guilt thereof must lie Vpon one of these of force Her ignorance or cruelty As she is faire so cruell she I sowe true loue but reape disdaining Her pleasure springeth from my paining Which pities source should be Too well she knowes how much I loue Yet doth knowledge in her moue No small remorce Then the guilt thereof must lie Her vndeserued cruelty As she is faire so were she kinde Or being cruell could I wauer Soone should I either win her
Physition that offred to poyson him MY famous Country values gold farre lesse Then conquest braue of such as gold possesse To be orecome with wealth I do not vse And to orecome with poyson I refuse No hand loues more then mine to giue to many No hart hates more then mine to take of any With so firme steele vertue my mind hath armed That not by gold nor yron it can be harmed Cato Vtican Who slew himselfe because he would not fall into Caesars bands CAESAR thou hast o'recome to thy great fame Proud Germanes valiant Gauls and Brittons rude Romes liberty but to thine eternall shame And her great Champion thou hast eke subdude Yet nether shall thy triumphs with my name Be grac't nor sword be with my bloud imbrude Though all the conquer'd earth do now serue thee Cato will dye vnconquered and free III. DEVICE Quid pluma leuius Puluis Quid puluere Ventus Quid vento Mulier Quid mulâ—ure Nihil Translated thus DVst is lighter then a Feather And the wind more light then either But a womans fickle mind More then a Feather Dust or Winde IIII. DEVICE Or a Dialogue betweene the Louer and his heart L Speake gentle heart where is thy dwelling place H With her whose birth the heaueÌ„s theÌ„selues haue bleâ— L. What dost thou heere H. Sometimes behold her facâ— And lodge sometimes within her christall brest L. She cold thou hot how can you then agree H. Not Nature now but loue doth gouerne me L. With her wilt thou remaine and let me dye H. If I returne we both shall dye for griefe L. If still thou stay what shall I get thereby H. I le moue her heart to purchase thy reliefes L. What if her heart be hard and stop his eares H. I le sigh aloud and make him soft with teares L. If that preuaile wilt thou returne from thence H. Not I alone my heart shall come with me L. Then will you both liue vnder my defence H. So long as life will let vs both agree L. Why then despaire goe packe thee hence away H. I liue in hope to haue a happy day V. DEVICE Or a Dialogue betweene a Louer Death and Loue. Louer Come gentle death D. Who calls L. one that 's opprest D. What is thy will L. That thou abridge my woe By cutting off my life D. Cease thy request I cannot kill thee yet L. Alas why so D. Thou want'st thy heart L. who stole that same away D. Loue whom thou seru'st entreate him if thou may Louer COme Cupid come C. Who calleth me so oft L. Thy vassall true who thou should know by right C. What makes thy cry so faint L. My voyce is soft Quite broke and spent with crying day and night C. What then what 's thy request L. That thou restore To me my heart and steale the same no more And thou O death when I possesse my heart Dispach me then at once D. Alas why so L. By promise thou art bound to end my smart D. But if thy heart returne then what 's thy woe D. That brought from frost it neuer will desire To rest with me that am more hot then fire VI. DEVICE Phaleuciacks TIme nor place did I want what held me tongtide What charmes what magicall abused Altars Wherefore wish I so oft that houre vnhappy When with freedome I might recount my torments And plead for remedy by true lamenting Dumbe nay dead in a trance I stood amazed When those lookes I beheld that late I long'd for No speech no memory no life remained Now speech prateth apace my griese bewraying Now bootlesse memory my plaints remembreth Now life moueth againe but all auailes not Speech life and memory die altogether With speech life memory loue only dies not VII DEVICE Phaleuciacke HOw or where haue I lost my life vnhappy Dead nor liue am I neither and yet am both Through despaire am I dead by hope reuiued Weeping wake I the night from euen to morning Sighing waste I the day from morne to euening Teares are drinke to my thirst by teares I thirst more Sighs are meate that I eate I hunger eating Might I O that I might refraine my feeding Soone would ease to my heart by death be purchast Life and light do I lack when I behold not Those bright beames of her eyes Apollo darkning Life and light do I lose when I behold them All as Snow by the Sun resolu'd to water Death and life I receiue her eyes beholding Death and life I refuse not in beholding So that dead or aliue I may behold them Lenuoy in riming Phalenciacks MVse not Lady to reade so strange a Meeter Strange griefe strange remedy for ease requireth When sweete ioy did abound I writ the sweeter Now that weareth away my Muse retireth In you lies it alone to cure my sadnesse And therewith to reuiue my heart with gladnesse VIII DEVICE Phaleuciacks WIsedom warns me to shun that once I sought for And in time to retire my hasty footsteps Wisedome sent from aboue not earthly wisedome No such thoughts can arise from earthly wisedome Long too long haue I slept in ease vneasie On false worldly reliefe my trust reposing Health and wealth in a boat no sterne nor anker Bold and blinde that I was to Sea be-taking Scarce from the shore had I lancht when all about me Waues like hills did rise till helpe from heauen Brought my Ship to the Port of late repentance IX DEVICE An Altar and Sacrifice to disdaine for freeing him from loue My Muse by thee restor'd to life To thee Disdaine this Alter reares Whereon she offers causelesse strife Self-spending sighs and bostlesse teares Long sutes in vaine Hate for goodwill Stil-dying paine Yet liuing still Selfe-louing pride Looks coyly strange Will Reasons guide Desire of change And last of all Blinde Fancies fire False beauties thral That bindes desire All these I offer to Disdaine By whom I liue from fancy free With vow that if I loue againe My life the sacrifice shall be Vicimus demitum pedibus calcamus amorem X. DEVICE Vpon beginning without making an end BEgin and halfe is done yet halfe vndone remaines Begin that half all is done thou art eas'd of pains The second halfe is all againe new worke must be begun Thus he that still begins doth nothing but by halues And things halfe done as good vndone half oxen are but calues XI DEVICE Or a Dialogue betweene the Soule and the Body Soule AY my poore soule whom bound in sinfull chaines This wretched body keepes against my will Body Ay my poore body whom for all my paines This froward Soule causelesse condemneth still Soule Causelesse when as thou striu'st to sin each day Body Causelesse when as I striue thee to obey Soule Thou art the meanes by which I fall to sin Body Thou art the cause that setst this meanes a worke Soule No part of thee that hath not faulty bin Body I shew the poyson that in thee
tongue nor Pen to me her slaue Remaines whereby her grace may be obtained Yet you my sighs may purchase me reliefe And ye my teares her rockey heart may moue Therefore my sighs sigh in her eare my griefe And in her heart my teares imprint my loue But cease vaine sighs cease cease ye fruitlesse teares Teares cannot pierce her heart no sighs her cares XXII SONET Her beauty makes him liue euen in despaire VVOunded with griefe I weep and sigh and plaine Yet neither plaints nor sighs nor teares do good But all in vaine I striue against the floud Gaining but griefe for griefe and paine for paine Yet though in vaine my teares my cheekes distaine Leauing ingrauen sorrow where they stood And though my sighs consuming vp my bloud For loue deseru'd reape vndeseru'd disdaine And though in vaine I know I beg remorce At your remorcelesse heart more hard then steele Yet such alas such is your beauties force Charming my sence that though this hell I feele Though neither plaints nor sighs nor tears can moue you Yet must I still persist euer to loue you XXIII SONET Why her lips yeeld him no word of comfort OFt do I plaine and she my plaints doth reade Which in black colours do paint forth my woe So that of force she must my sorrow know And know for her disdaine my heart doth bleede And knowledge must of force some pitty breede Which makes me hope she will some fauour show And from her sugred lips much comfort flow Into mine eares my heart with ioy to feede Yet though she reades and reading knowes my griefe And knowledge moues her pitty my distresse Yet do her lips sweete lips take no reliefe Much do I muse but find no cause in this That in her lips her heauenly lips that blisse them Her words loth thence to part stay there to kisse them XXIIII SONET Comparison of his heart to a tempest beaten Ship LIke a Sea tossed Barke with tackling spent And stars obscur'd his watry iournies guide By loud tempestuous winds and raging tide From waue to waue with dreadfull fury sent Fares my poore heart my heart-strings being rent And quite disabled your fierce wrath to bide Since your faire eyes my stars themselues do hide Clowding their light in frownes and discontent For from your frownes do spring my sighs and teares Teares flow like seas and sighs like winds do blow Whose ioyned rage most violently beares My tempest beaten heart from woe to woe And if your eyes shine not that I may shun it On rocke despaire my sighs my teares will rue it XXV SONET That he cannot leaue to loue though commanded HOw can my loue in equity be blamed Still to importune though it ne're obtaine Since though her face and voyce will me refraine Yet by her voyce and face I am inflamed For when alas her face with frownes is framed To kill my loue but to reuiue my paine And when hâ—â—â—â—â—e commands but all in vaine That loue both leaue to be and to be named Her Syren voyce doth such inchantment moue And though she frowne eu'n frownes so louely make her That I of force am forced still to loue Since that I must and yet cannot forsake her My fruitlesse prayers shall cease in vaine to moue her But my deuoted heart ne're cease to loue her XXVI SONET He desires leaue to write of his Loue MVst my deuoted heart desist to loue her Not loue I may but I may not confesse it What harder then loue and yet depresse it Loue most conceal'd doth most it selfe discouer Had I no Pen to shew that I approue her Were I tongue-tide that I might not addresse it In plaints and prayers vnfained to expresse it Yet could I not my deepe affection couer Had I no Pen my very teares would shew it Which write my true affection in my face Were I tongue-tide my sighs would make her know it Which witnesse that I grieue at my disgrace Since then though silent I my loue discouer O let my pen haue leane to say I loue her XXVII SONET That time hath no power to end or diminish his loue TIme wasteth yeeres and months and daies houres Time doth consume fame riches wit and strength Time kils the greenest herbes and sweetest flowers Time weares out youth and beauties pride at length Time maketh euery tree to dye and rot Time turneth oft our pleasure into paine Time causeth wars and wrongs to be forgot Time cleeres the skye that first hung full of raine Time brings to nought the mightiest Princes state Time brings a floud from new resolued snow Time calmes the Sea where tempests roared late Time eares whatsoe're the Moone doth see below Yet shall no time vpon my heart preuaile Nor any time shall make my loue to faile XXVIII SONET Of the Monne LOoke how the pale Queene of the silent night Doth cause the Ocean to attend vpon her And he as long as she is in his sight With his full tide is ready her to honor But when the siluer wagon of the Moone Is mounted vp so high he cannot follow The sea cals home his christall waues to moue And with low ebbe doth manifest his sorrow So you that are the soueraigne of my heart Haue all my ioyes attending on your will My ioyes low ebbing when you doe depart When you returne their tide my heart doth fill So as you come and as you doe depart Ioyes ebbe and flow within my tender heart Three Sonets That loue only made him a Poet and that all sorts of verses both in rime and measure agree with his Lady XXIX SONET SOme men they say are Poets borne by kind And sucke that science from their mothers brest An easie art that comes with so great rest And happy to men so good hap assign'd In some desire of praise enflames the mind To clime with paine Parnassus double crest Some hope of rich rewards hath so possest That gold in Castell sands they seeke to find Me neither nature hath a Poet made Nor loue of glory mou'd to learne the trade Nor thirst of gold perswaded me to write For Natures graces are too fine for me Praise like the Peacock prides her selfe to see Desire of gaine the basest minds delight XXX SONET VVHat mou'd me then say loue for thou canst tell Of thee I learn'd this skill if skill I haue Thou knowst the Muse whose helpe I alwaies craue Is none of those that on Parnassus dwell My Muse is such as doth them all excell They all to her alone their cunning gaue To sing to dance to play to make so braue Thrice threefold graces her alone befell From her do flow the streames that water me Here is the praise if I a Poet be Her only looke both will and skill doth giue What maruell then if I those lawes refuse Which other Poets in their making vse Since by her looks I writ by which I liue XXXI SONET THus am I free from lawes that other
griefe A liuing death an euer-dying life A breath of reasons law a secret thiefe A sea of teares an euerlasting strife A baite for fooles a scourge of noble wits A deadly wound a shot that euer hits Loue is a blinded God a way-ward Boy A laborinth of doubts an idle lust A slaue of beauties will a witlesse toy A rauenous bird a tyrant most vniust A burning heate in frost a flattring foe A priuate hell a very world of woe Yet mighty Loue regard not what I say Who in a trance do lie reft of my wits But blame the light that leades me thus astray And makes my tongue thus raue by frantike fits Yet hurt me not least I sustaine the smart Which am content to lodge her in my heart VIII CANZONET Petrarks Sonnet translated Pace non trouo non hodasar guera I Ioy not Peace where yet no war is found I feare and hope I burne yet freeze withall I mount to heauen yet lye stil on the ground I nothing hold yet I compasse all I liue her bond which neither is my foe Nor friend nor holds me fast nor lets me goe Loue will not let me liue nor let me dye Nor locks me fast nor suffers me to scape I want both eyes and tongue yet see I cry I wish for death yet after helpe I gape I hate my selfe yet loue another wight And feede on griefe in lieu of sweete delight At the selfe time I both lament and ioy I stil am pleas'd and yet displeased still Loue sometimes seemes a God somtimes a Boy Sometimes I sinke sometimes I swim at will Twixt death and life small difference I make All this deere Dame endure I for thy sake IX CANZONET He proues himselfe to endure the hellish torments of Tantalus Ixion Titius Sisyphus and the Belides IN that I thirst for such a Goddesse grace As wants remorse like Tantalus I die My state is equall to Ixions case Whose mangled limbs are turn'd continually In that my rolling toiles can haue no end Nor loue nor time nor chance will stand my friend In that my heart consuming neuer dies I feele with Titius an equall paine Vpon whose heart a vulture feeding lies In that I rise through hope and fall agine By feare like Silyphus I labour still To turne arowling stone against a hill In that I make my vowes to her alone Whose eares are deafe and will retaine no sound With Belides my state is all but one Which fill a Tub whose bottome is not sound Thus in my heart since loue therein did dwell Are all the torments to be found in hell X. CANZONET Loues discommodities WHere heate of loue doth once possesse the heart There cares oppresse the mind with wonders ill Wit runs awry not fearing future smart And fond desire doth ouer-master will The belly neither cares for meate nor drinke Nor ouer-watched eyes desire to winke Footsteps are false and wauering too and fro The pleasing flower of beauty fades away Reason retires and pleasure brings in woe And wisedome yeeldeth place to black decay Counsell and fame and friendship are contemn'd And bashfulâ— shame and Gods themselues condemn'd Watchfull suspect is linked with despaire Inconstant hope is often drown'd in feares What folly hurts Fortune cannot repaire And miserie doth swim in seas of teares Long vse of life is but a lingring foe And gentle death is only end of woe XI CANZONET Allegory of his Loue to a Ship THe Souldier worne with wars delights in peace The Pilgrime in his ease when toyles are past The ship to gaine the Port when stormes do cease And I reioyce discharg'd from loue at last Whom while I seru'd peace rest and land I lost With wars with toiles with storms worne tir'd tost Sweete liberty now giues me leaue to sing What world it was where loue the rule did beare How foolish Chance by lots rul'd euery thing How error was main saile each waue a teare The master loue himselfe deepe sighs were winde Cares row'd with vowes the Ship a pensiue mind False hope the healme oft turn'd the ship about And constant faith stood vp for middle mast Despaire the Cable twisted all with doubt Held griping griefe the piked Anchor fast Beauty was all the rocks but I at last Haue gain'd the the Port and now my loue is past XII CANZONET Execration of his passed loue I Curse the time wherein these lips of mine Did pray or praise the dame that was vnkind I curse my Inke my paper and each line My hand hath writ in hope to please her mind I curse her hollow heart and flattring eyes Whose â—lye deceits did cause my mourning cries I curse the sugred speech and Syrens song Wherewith so oft she hath bewitcht mine care I cursse my foolish will that staid so long And ooke delight to bide twixt hope and feare I curse the houre wherein I first began By louing lookes to proue a witlesse man I curse the dayes that I haue spent in vaine In louing one vngratefull and vnkinde I curse the Bow and shafts that bred my paine And Loue I curse that Archer nak'd and blind But on that howre that my fond loue doth end Millions of blessings I will euer spend XIII CANZONET Of the Sunne A Iewell being a Sunne-shining vpon the Marigold closed in a heart of gold sent to his Mistresse named Mary THe Sunne doth make the Marigold to flowrish The sunnes departure make it droupe againe So golden Maries sight my ioyes do nourish But by her absence all my ioyes are slaine The sunne the Marigold makes liue and die By her the sun shines brighter so may I. Her smiles do glad the sunne and light the aires Reuiue my heart and cleare the cloudy skye Her frownes the aire make darke the Sunne to loure The Marigold to close my heart to dye By her the sunne the flowre the aire and I Shine and darken spread and close liue and dye You are the sunne you are the golden Mary Passing the Sunne in brightnesse gold in powre I am the flowre whom you do make to vary Flowrish when you smile droupe when you do lowre Oh let this heart of gold Sun and flowre Sill liue shine and spring in your hearts bowre XIIII CANZONET To her eyes FAine would I learne of thee thou murth'ring eye Whether thy glance be fire or else a dart For with thy looke in flames thou mak'st me fry And with the same thou strik'st me to the heart Pierst with thy lookes I burne in fire And yet those lookes I still desire The Flie that buzzeth round about the flame Knowes not poore soule she gets her death thereby I see my death and seeing seeke the same And seeking find and finding chuse to dye That when thy lookes my life haue slaine Thy lookes may giue me life againe Turne then to me those sparkling Eyes of thine And with their fiery glances pierce my heart Quench not my light least I in darkenesse pine Strike
streames with double force Where lockes or piles are set to stay their course For when my heart perceiu'd her parting neere By whose sweete sight he liues that else should die It clos'd it selfe to keepe those beames so cleere Which from her looke had pierst it through the eye The fiery beames which would breake out so faine By seeking vent encrease my burning paine But if my deere returne aliue and sound That these mine eies may see her beauty bright My heart shall spread with ioy that shall abound And open wide receiuing cleerer light She shall recouer that which I possesse And I thereby enioy no whit the lesse XXIIII CANZONET The Louer absence kils me her presence cures me THe frozen Snake opprest with heaped snow By strugling hard gets out her tender head And spies farre off from where she lies below The winter Sunne that from the North is fled But all in vaine she lookes vpon the light Where heate is wanting to restore her might What doth it helpe a wretch in prison pent Long time with byting hunger ouer-prest To see without or smell within the scent Of dainty fare for others tables drest Yet Snake and Prisnor both behold the thing The which but not with sight might comfort bring Such is my state or worse if worse may be My heart opprest with heauy frost of care Debar'd of that which is most deare to me Kild vp with cold and pinde with euill fare And yet I see the thing might yeeld reliefe And yet the sight doth breed my greater griefe So This be saw her louer through the wall And saw thereby she wanted that she saw And so I see and seeing want withall And wanting so vnto my death I draw And so my death were twenty times my friend If with this verse my hated life might end XXV CANZONET Faire Face and hard Heart FAire is thy face and that thou knowest too well Hard is thy heart and that thou wilt not know Thou flear'st and smil'st when I thy praises tell But stop'st thine eares when I my griefe would show Yet though in vaine needs must I speake Or else my swelling heart would breake And when I speake my breath doth blow the fire With which my burning heart consumes away I call vpon thy name and helpe require Thy dearest name which doth me still betray For grace sweete grace thy name doth sound Yet ah in thee no grace is found Alas to what part shall I then appeale Thy face so faire disdaines to looke on mee Thy tongue commands my heart his griefe conceale Thy nimble feete from me do alwaies flee Thine eyes cast fire to burne my heart And thou reioycest in my smart Then since thou seest the life I lead in paine And that for thee I suffer all this griefe O let my heart this small request obtaine That thou agree it pine without reliefe I aske not loue for my good will But leaue that I may loue thee still Quid minus optari per mea vota potest XXVI CANZONET An inuectiue against Loue. ALl is not gold that shineth bright in show Not euery flowre so good as faire to sight The deepest streames aboue doe calmest flow And strongest poysons oft the tast delight The pleasant baite doth hide the harmelesse hooke And false deceit can lend a friendly looke Loue is the gold whose outward hew doth passe Whose first beginnings goodly promise make Of pleasures faire and fresh as Sommers grasse Which neither Sunne can parch nor winde can shake But when the mould should in the fire betride The gold is gone the drosse doth still abide Beauty the flowre so fresh so faire so gay So sweete to smell so soft to touch and tast As seemes it should endure by right for aye And neuer be with any storme defa'st But when the balefull Southerne winde doth blow Gone is the glory which it erst did show Loue is the streame whose waues so calmely flow As might intice mens minds to wade therein Loue is the poison mixt with sugar so As might by outward sweetnesse liking win But as the deepe o'reflowing stops thy breath So poyson once receiu'd brings certaine death Loue is the baite whose tast the fish deceiues And makes them swallow downe the choaking hooke Loue is the face whose fairenesse iudgement reaues And makes thee trust a false and fained looke But as the hooke the foolish fish doth kill So flattring lookes the louers life doe spill XXVII CANZONET Vpon his Ladies buying strings for her Lute IN happy time the wished faire is come To fit my Lute with strings of eu'ry kinde Great pitty 't is so sweete a Lute be dumme That so can please the eare and ease the minde Go take thy choise and chuse the very best And vse them so that head and heart find rest Rest thou in ioy and let me waile alone My pleasant daies haue tane their last farewell My heart-strings sorrow strooke so long with mone That at the last they all in peeces fell And now they lye in pieces broke so small That scarce they serue to make me frets withall And yet they serue and binde my heart so straite That frets indeed they serue to fret it out No force for that in hope thereof I waite That death may rid me both of hope and doubt But death alas drawes backward all too long And I each day feele now increase of wrong XXVIII CANZONET Care will not let him liue nor hope let him dye MYy heauy heart which griefe and hope torment Beates all in vaine against my weary breast As if it thought with force to make a vent That death might enter to procure my rest But foolish heart thy paines are last I see For death and life both flie and follow thee When weight of care would presse me down with paine That I might sinke to depth of death below Hope lends me wings and lifts me vp againe To striue for life and liue in greater woe So fares the Boate which windes driue to the shore And tides driue backward where it was before Thus neither hope will let me die with care Nor Care consent that hope assure my life I seeke for life death doth his stroke prepare I come to death and life renewes my strife All as the shadow followes them that flie And flies from them that after it doe hie What is my hope that hope will faile at last And griefe get strength to worke his will on me Either the waxe with which hopes wings are fast By scalding sighes mine eies shall melted see Or else my teares shall wet the feathers so That I shall fall and drowne in waues of woe XXIX CANZONET In praise of the Sunne THE Golden Sunne that brings the day And lends men light to see withall In vaine doth cast his beames away Where they are blind on whom they fall There is no force in all his light To giue the Mole a perfect sight But thou my Sunne more bright
But mighty Oakes may scorne the Summer Sun Small cure will serue where Bees the wound haue made But Dragons poyson through each part doth run Light is the loue that beggars bosome stings Deepe is the wound that Cupid makes in Kings Small channels serue where shallow springs do slide And little helpe will turne or stay their course The highest bankes scarce hold the swelling tide Which ouerthrowes all stops with raging force The baser sort scarce wet them in the springs Which ouer-whelme the head of mighty Kings What though in both the heart be seat of loue The selfe-same ground both corne and cockle breeds Fast by the Bryar the Pine tree mounts aboue One kinde of grasse the Iade and Iennet feeds So from the heart by secret vertue springs Vnlike desire in beggars and in Kings XXXIX CANZONET A song in praise of a Beggars life BRight shines the Sunne Play Beggars play Heere 's scraps enough to serue to day What noise of Viols is so sweete As when our merry clappers ring What mirth doth want where Beggars meete A beggars life is for a King Eate drinke and play sleepe when we list Go where we will so stockes be mist Bright shines c. The world is ours and ours alone For we alone haue world at will We purchase not all is our owne Both fields and streetes we beggars fill Nor care to get nor feare to keepe Did euer breake a beggars sleepe Bright shines c. A hundred head of blacke and white Vpon our gownes securely feede If any dares his Master bite He dies therefore as sure as Creede Thus beggars lord it as they please And none but beggers liue at ease Bright shines the Sun c. XL. CANZONET To Time ETernall Time that wastest without wast That art and art not diest and liuest still Most slow of all and yet of greatest hast Both ill and good and neither good nor ill How can I iustly praise thee or dispraise Darke are thy nights but bright and cleare thy daies Both free and scarce thou giu'st and tak'st againe Thy wombe that all doth breede is Tombe to all What so by thee hath life by thee is slaine From thee do all things rise to thee they fall Constant inconstant mouing standing still Was is shall be doe thee both breede and kill I lose thee while I seek to find thee out The farther off the more I follow thee The faster hold the greater cause of doubt Was is I know but shall I cannot see All things by thee are measured thou by none All are in thee thou in thy selfe alone XLI CANZONET A hymne in praise of Musicke PRaise pleasure profite is that threefold band Which ties mens minds more fast theÌ„ Gordions knot Each one some drawes all three none can withstand Of force conioynd Conquest is hardly got Then Musicke may of hearts a Monarch be Wherein prayse pleasure profite so agree Praise-worthy Musicke is for God it praiseth And pleasant for brute beasts therein delight Great profit from it flowes for why it raiseth The mind ouerwhelmed with rude passions might When against reason passions fond rebell Musicke doth that confirme and those expell If Musicke did not merit endlesse praise Would heauenly Spheares delight in siluer round If ioyous pleasure were not in sweet layes Would they in Court and Country so abound And profitable needes we must that call Which pleasure linkt with praise doth bring to all Heroicke minds with praises most incited Seeke praise in Musicke and therein excell God man beasts birds with Musicke are delighted And pleasant t' is which pleaseth all so well No greater profit is then selfe content And this will Musicke bring and care preuent When antique Poets Musicks praises tell They say it beasts did please and stones did moue To proue more dull then stones then beasts more 〈◊〉 Those men which pleasing Musicke did not loue They fain'd it Cities built and states defended To shew the profite great on it depended Sweete birds poore mens Musitians neuer slake To sing sweet Musickes praises day and night The dying Swans in Musicke pleasures take To shew that it the dying can delight In sicknesse health peace warre we do it need Which proues sweet Musicks profit doth exceed But I by niggard praising do dispraise Praise-worthy musicke in my worthlesse Rime Ne can the pleasing profit of sweet laies Any saue learned Muses well define Yet all by these rude lines may clearely see Praise pleasure profite in sweet musicke be XLII CANZONET Or a Hymne in praise of Neptune OF Neptunes Empire le vs sing At whose command the waues o bay To whom the riuers tribute pay Downe the high mountaines sliding To whom the scaly Nation yeelds Homage for the Christall fields Wherein they dwell And euery Sea-God paies a lem Yeerely out of his watry Cell To deck great Neptunes Diadem The Tritons dancing in a ring Before his Pallace gates do make The waters with their ecchoes quake Like the great thunder sounding The Sea-Nimphs chant their accents shrill And the Syrens taught to kill With their sweet voyce Make euery ecchoing rock reply Vnto their gentle murmuring noyse The praise of Neptunes Empery Th. Campion XLIII CANZONET Or a Hymne that was sung by Amphitryte Thamasis other Sea Nimphs in Graies-Inne Maske at the Court. 1594. Of his Mistresses face ANd would you see my mistresse face It is a flowry garden place Where knots of beauty haue such grace That all is worke and no where space It is a sweete delicious morne Where day is breeding neuer borne It is a meadow yet vnshorne Which thousand flowers do adorne It is the heauens bright reflexe Weake eyes to dazle and to vexe It is th'Idaea of her sexe Enuy of whom doth world perplexe It is a face of death that smiles Pleasing though it kill the whiles Where death and loue in pretty wiles Each other mutually beguiles It is faire beauties freshest youth It is a fain'd Eliziums truth The spring that wintred hearts renu'th And this is that my soule pursu'th XLIIII CANZONET Vpon her palenesse BLame not my checks though pile with loue they be The kindly heare into my heart is flowue To cherrish it that is dismayd by thee Who art so cruell and vnstedfast growne For â—ature cald for by distressed hearts Neglects and quite forsakes the outward parts But they whose cheekes with carelesse bloud are staind Nurse not one sparke of loue within their hearts And when they woo they speake with passion faind For their fat loue lies in their outward parts But in their breasts where loue his court should hold Poore Cupid sits and blowes his nayles for cold Tho. Campion XLV CANZONET Of Corinnaes singing VVHen to her Lute Corinna sings Her voyce reuiues the leaden strings And doth in highest notes appeare As any challeng'd eccho cleere But when she doth of mourning speake Eu'n with her sighs the strings do breake And as her Lute doth liue or die Led by her passions