vaine But they shall fret with spight To see thy glory bright And know themselues thereto cannot attaine MIne eies haue spent their teares now are drie My weary hand will guide my pen no more My voice is hoarse and can no longer cry My head hath left no new complaints in store My heart is ouerburdned so with paine That sence of griefe doth none therein remaine The teares you see distilling from mine eies My gentle Muse doth shed for this my griefe The plaints you heare are her incessant cries By which she calles in vaine for some reliefe She neuer parted since my griefe begunne In her I liue she dead my life were done Then louing Muse departe and let me die Some brauer Youth will sue to thee for grace That may aduance thy glory to the skie And make thee scorn blind Fortunes frowning face My heart and head that did thee entertaine Desire and Fortune with despite haue slaine My Lady dares not lodge thee in her brest For feare vnwares she let in Loue with thee For well she thinkes some part in thee must rest Of that which so possest each part of mee Then good my Muse flie back to heau'n againe And let me die to end this endlesse paine BReake heauy hart and rid mee of this paine This paine that still encreaseth day by day By day with sighes I spend my selfe in vaine In vayne by night with teares I waste away Away I waste with teares by night in vaine Teares sighs by night by day encrease this paine Mine Eyes no Eies but fountaines of my teares My teares no teares but floods to moyst my hart My hart no hart but harbour of my feares My feares no feares but feelings of my smart My smart my feares my hart my teares mine eies Are blind dryde spent past wasted with my cries And yet mine Eyes thogh blind see cause of greefe And yet my teares thogh dride run down amaine And yet my hart though spent attends releefe And yet my feares though past encrease my paine And yet I liue and liuing feele more smart And smarting cry in vaine breake heauy hart WHere witt is ouer-rulde by will And will is led by fond desire There Reason were as good bee still As speaking kindle greater fire For where desire doth beare the sway The hart must rule the head obay What bootes the cunning Pilots skill To tell which way to shape their course When hee that steers will haue his will And driue them where he list perforce So Reason shewes the truth in vaine Where fond desire as King doth raigne TWixt heate and colde twixt death and life I freeze and burne I liue and die Which ioyntly worke in me such strife 〈◊〉 liue in death in cold I fry Nor hot nor cold nor liue nor dead Neither and both this life I lead â—irst burning heate sets all one fire Whereby I seeme in flames to fry Then colde despayre kills hotte desire That drenched deepe in death I lie Heate driues out cold and keepes my life Cold quencheth heate no end of strife The lesse I hope to haue my will The more I feele desire encrease And as desire encreaseth still Despayre to quench it doth not cease So liue I as the Lampe whose light Oft comes oft goes now dim now bright A liuing death IF meanes be none to end my restlesse eare If needes I must orewhelm'd with sorrow lie What better way this sorrow to declare Then that I dying liue and cannot die If nought but losse I reape in steade of gaine If lasting paine doe euery day encrease To thee good Death alas I must complaine Thou art of force to make my sorrow cease If thou because I thee refusde sometime Now shut thine eares and my request deny Still must I loue and waile in woefull Rime That dying still I am and cannot die Spiro non viuo YE walles that shut me vp from sight of men Inclosde wherein aliue I buried lie And thou sometime my bed but now my den Where smothred vp the light of Sunne I flie O shut your selues ech chinke and creuis straine That none but you may heare me thus complain My hollow cries that beate thy stony side Vouchsafe to beate but beate them backe againe That when my griefe hath speech to me denide Mine eares may heare the witnes of my paine As for my Teares whose streames must euer last My silent cowch shall drinke them vp as fast Hopelesse desire soone withers and dies THough naked Trees seeme dead to sight When winter winde doth keenely blow â—et if the roote maintaine her right â—he Spring their hidden life will show But if the roote be dead and drie No maruell though the branches die While Hope did liue within my brest â—o winter storme could kill desire â—ut now disdaine hath hope opprest â—ead is the roote dead is the spire Hope was the roote the spire was Loue No sap beneath no life aboue â—nd as we see the rootelesse stocke â—â—taine some sap and spring a while â—et quickely prooue a lifelesse blocke â—â—cause the roote doth life beguile So liues Desire which Hope hath left As twylight shines when Sunne is reft ODE XII To his Heart NAy nay thou striu'st in vaine my Hart To mend thy misse Thou hast deseru'd to beare this smart And worse then this That wouldst thy selfe debase To serue in such a place Thou thoughtst thy selfe too long at rest Such was thy Pride Needes must thou seeke a nobler brest Wherein to bide Say now what hast thou found In fetters thou art bound What hath thy faithfull seruice wonne But high disdaine Broke is the threede thy fancie spunne Thy labour vaine Falne art thou now with paine And canst not rise againe And canst thou looke for helpe of mee In this distresse 〈◊〉 must confesse I pittie thee And can no lesse But beare a while thy paine For feare thou fall againe â—earne by thy hurt to shunne the fire Play not with all When clyming thoughts high things aspyre They seeke their fall Thou ween'st nought shone but golde So wast thou blind and bolde â—et lie not still for this disgrace But mount againe â—o that thou know the wished place Bee worth thy paine Then though thou fall and die Yet neuer feare to flie PHALEVCIACKS II. WIsdome warns me to shun that once I sought for And in time to retire my hasty footsteps Wisdome sent from aboue not earthly wisdome No such thoughts can arise from earthly wisdome Long too long haue I slept in ease vneasie On falce worldly releefe my trust reposing Health and wealth in a bote no sterne nor ankor Bold and blinde that I was to Sea be taking Scarce from shore had I lancht when all about mee Waues like hilles did arise till help from heauen Brought my Ship to the Porte of late repentance O nauis referent in mare te noui Fluctus ODE XIII NOw haue I learn'd with much a doo at last By true disdaine to
lie Vpon one of these of force Her Ignorance or Cruelty As shee is faire so cruell shee I sowe true loue but reape disdaining Her pleasure springeth from my paining Which Pitties source should bee Too well shee knowes how much I loue Yet doth knowledge in her moue No small remorce Then the guilt thereof must lie Vpon this a lone of force Her vndeserued Cruelty As shee is faire so were shee kinde Or beeing cruel could I wauer Soone should I either win her fauer Or a new Mistresse finde But neyther out alas may bee Scorne in her and loue in mee So fixed are Yet in whom most blame doth lie Iudge shee may if shee compare My loue vnto her Crueltie SONNET VI. Contention of Loue and Reason for his Hart. REason and Loue lately at strife contended Whose Right it was to haue my minds protectioÌ„ Reason on his side Natures wil pretended Loues Title was my Mistresse rare perfection Of power to ende this strife each makes election Reasons pretence discoursiue thoughts defended But loue soon broght those thoghts into subiectioÌ„ By Beauties troopes which on my saint depended Yet since to rule the minde was Reasons dutie On this Condition it by loue was rendred That endles Praise by Reason should be tendred As a due Tribute to her conquering Beautie Reason was pleasde withall and to loues Royalty He pledg'de my Hart as Hostage for his Loyalty SONNET IIII. That she hath greater power ouer his happines and life then either Fortune Fate or Starres LEt Fate my Fortune and my Starres conspire Ioâ—ntly to poure on me their worst disgrace So I be graeious in your heauenly Face I wey 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 expyre T' is your faire Eyes my Starres all blisse doo giue T is your disdaine my Fate hath power to kill T' is you my Fortune make me happy liue Though Fortune Fate Stars conspyre mine ill Then blessed Saint into your fauour take mee â—ortune nor Fate nor Stars can wretched make me SONNET VII Of his Ladies weeping WHat need I say how it doth wound my brest By fate to bee thus banisht from thine Eyes Since your own Tears with me doo Sympathize Pleading with slow departure there to rest For when with floods of teares they were opprest Ouer those Iuory banks they did not rise Till others enuying their felicities Did presse theÌ„ forth that they might there be blest Some of which Teares prest forth by violence Your lippes with greedy kissing strait did drinke And other some vnwilling to part thence Inamourd on your cheekes in them did sincke And some which from your Face were forc'd away In signe of Loue did on your Garments stay SONNET VIII Hee paints out his Torments SWeet to my cursed life some fauour showe Or let me not accurst in life remaine Let not my Senses sence of life retaine Since sence doth only yeeld mee sence of woe For now mine Eyes only your frownes doo know Mine Eeares heare nothing els but your disdaine My lips taste nought but teares and smel is paine Banisht your lips where Indian Odours grow And my deuoted Hart your Beauties slaue Feeles nought but scorne oppression distresse Made eu'n of wretchednes the wretched Caue Nay too too wretched for vilde wretchednesse For euen sad sighes as loathing there to rest Struggle for passage from my Greefe-swolne brest ODE II. A dialogue betweene him and his Hart. AT her faire hands how haue I grace intreated With prayers oft repeated Yet still my loue is thwarted Hart let her goe for shee 'le not be conuarted Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no. Shee is most faire though shee be marble harted How often haue my sighs declar'de mine anguish Wherein I dayly languish Yet doth shee still procure it Hart let her goe for I can not endure it Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no. Shee gaue the wound and shee alone must cure it The trickling tears that down my cheeks haue flowed My loue haue often showed Yet still vnkind I proue her Hart let her goe for nought I do can moue her Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no. Though mee shee hate I can not chuse but loue her But shall I still a true affection owe her Which prayers sighs teares do shew her And shall shee still disdaine mee Hart let her goe if they no grace can gaine mee Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no. Shee made mee hers and hers shee will retaine mee But if the Loue that hath and still doth burne mee No loue at length returne mee Out of my thoughts I le set her Hart let her goe oh hart I pray thee let her Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no Fixt in the hart how can the hart forget her But if I weepe and sigh and often waile mee Till teares sighes prayers fayle mee Shall yet my Loue perseuer Hart let her goe if shee will right thee neuer Say shal shee goe Oh no no no no no Teares sighs praiers faile but true loue lasteth eueâ— SONNET IX His Sighes and Teares are bootlesse I Haue entreated and I haue complained I haue disprays'd and prayse I like wise 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 Tongue nor Pen to me her slaue Remaines whereby her Grace may be obtained Yet you my Sighs may purchace mee releefe And yee my Teares her rocky hart may moue Therefore my sighes sigh in her eares my greefe And in her Hart my Teares imprint my Loue. But cease vaine sighes cease cease yee fruitles teares Teares cannot pierce her Hart nor sighes hir Eares SONNET X. Her Beautie makes him loue euen in despaire WOunded with Greefe I weepe sigh plaine Yet neither plaints nor sighs nor tears do good But all in vaine I striue against the flood Gaining but greefe for greefe paine for paine Yet though in vaine my teares my cheekes distain Leauing ingrauen Sorrow where they stood And though my sighs consuming vp my blood For Loue deseru'd reape vndeseru'd Disdaine And though in vaine I know I beg remorce At your remorcelesse harte more hard then steele Yet such alas such is your Beauties force Charming my Sence that though this hâ—ll I feele Though neither plaints nor sighs nor tears caÌ„ moue you Yet must I still persist euer to loue you SONNET XI Why her Lips yeeld him no words of Comfort OFt doo I plaine and shee my plants doth reede Which in black colors do paint forth my wo So that of force she must my sorrow know And know for her disdaine my hart doth bleede And knowledge must of Force some pitty breede
Which makes me hope she wil some fauour show And from her sugred lippes cause comfort flowe Into mine Eares my hart with ioy to feede Yet though she reads and reading knowes my griefe And knowledge moues her pitie my distresse Yet do her lips sweet lips yeeld no releefe Much do I muse but find no cause but this That in her lips her heauenly lips that blisse them Her words loth thence to part stay there to kisse theÌ„ SONNET XII Comparison of his Hart to a Tempest-beaten Ship LIke a Sea-tossed Barke with tackling spent And Starres obscur'd his watry iornies guide By lowd tempestuous windes and raging tide From waue to waue with dreadfull fury sent Fares my poore Hart my Hart-strings being rent And quite disabled your fierce wrath to bide Since your faire eies my Stars theÌ„selues do hide Clouding their light in frownes and discontent For from your frowns do spring my sighes teares Teares flow like seas sighes like winds do bloe Whose ioyned rage most violently beares My Tempest-beaten hart from woe to woe And if your Eyes shine not that I may shun it On Rocke despaire my sighes and teares wil run it ELEGIE To his Lady who had vowel Virginitie EV'N as my hand my Pen on Paper laies My trembling hand my Pen from Paper staies â—est that thine eies which shining made me loue you Should frowning on my sute bid cease to moue you So that I fare like one at his wits end Hoping to gaine and fearing to offend What pleaseth Hope the same Dispaire mislikes What hope sets down those lines despair outstrikes So that my nursing-murthering Pen affords A Graue and Cradle to my new-borne words But whil'st like clowds tosst vp and downe the ayre 〈◊〉 racked hang twixt Hope and sadde Despaire Despaire is beaten vanquisht from the field And vnto conq'ring Hope my Hart doth yeeld For when mine eies vnpartially are fixed On thy Rose cheekes with Lillies intermixed And on thy forehead like a cloude of snow From vnder which thine eies like Sunnes do show And all those partes which curiously do meete Twixt thy large-spreading haire and pretty feete Yet looking on them all discerne no one That owes not homage vnto Cupids Throne Then Chastitie me thinkes no claime should lay To this faire Realme vnder Loues Scepters sway For onely to the Queene of amorous pleasure Belongs thy Beauties tributary treasure Treasure which doth more than those riches please For which men plow long furrowes in the Seas If you were wrinckled olde or Natures scorne Or time your beauties colours had out-worne Or were you mewed vp from gazing eies Like to a cloystred Nunne which liuing dies Then might you waite on Chastities pale Queene Not being faire or being faire not seene But you are faire so passing passing faire That loue I must though louing I despaire For when I saw your eies O cursed blisse Whose light I would not laue nor yet would misse For t is their light alone by which I liue And yet their sight alone my deaths wound giue Looking vpon your heart-entangling looke I like a heedelesse Bird was snar'de and tooke It lies not in our will to hate or loue For Natures influence our will doth moue And loue of Beauty Nature hath innated In Harts of men when first they were created For eu'n as Riuers to the Ocean runne Returning backe from whence they first begunne Or as the Skie about the Earth doth wheele Or giddy ayre like to a Drunkard reele So with the course of Nature doth agree That Eies which Beauties Adamant do see Should on Affections line trembling remayne True-subiect-like eying their Soueraigne If of mine Eies you also could bereaue me As you already of my hart deceiue me Or could shut vp my rauisht eares through which You likewise did m'inchaunted Heart bewitch Or had in Absence both these illes combinde For by your Absence I am deafe and blinde And neither Eares nor Eies in aught delight But in your charming speach and gratious sight To roote out Loue all meanes you can inuent Were all but labour lost and time ill spent For as the sparkes being spent which fier procure The fire doth brightly-burning still endure Though Absence so your sparkling Eies remoue My Hart still burnes in endles flames of Loue. Then striue not gainst the streame to none effect But let due Loue yeeld Loue a due respect Nor seeke to ruine what your selfe begunne Or loose a Knot that cannot be vndone But vnto Cupids bent conforme your will For will you nill you I must loue you stiâ—l But if your Will did swimme with Reasons tide Or followed Natures neuer-erring guide It cannot chuse but bring you vnto this To tender that which by you gotten is Why were you faire to be besought of many If you liue chaste not to be wonne of any For if that Nature loue to Beautie offers And Beauty shunne the loue that Nature proffer's Then either vniust Beauty is too blame With scorne to quench a lawfull kindled flame Or else vnlawfully if loue we must And be vnlou'de then Nature is vniust Vniustly then Nature hath heartes created There to loue most where most their loue is hated And flattering them with a faire-seeming ill To poyson them with Beauties sugred Pill Thinke you that Beauties admirable worth Was to no end or idle end brought forth No no from Nature neuer deede did passe But it by wisedomes hand subscribed was But you in vaine are faire if faire not viewed Or being seene mens hearts be not subdewed Or making each mans heart your Beauties thrall You be enioyed of no one at all For as the Lions strength to seize his pray And fearefull Hares light foote to runne away Are as an idle Talent but abused And fruitlesse had if had they be not vsed So you in vaine haue Beauties bonds to show By which mens Eies engaged Hearts do owe If Time shall cancell them before you gaine Th'indebted Tribute to your Beauties raigne But if these Reasons being vainely spent You fight it out to the last Argument Tell me but how one Body can enclose As louing friends two deadly hating foes But when as Contraries are mixt together The colour made doth differ much from either Whil'st mutually at strife they doe impeach The glosse and lustre proper vnto each So where one body ioyntly doth inuest An Angells face and cruell Tygres brest There dieth both Allegeance and Command For self-deuided kingdomes cannot stand But as a Child that knowes not what is what Now craueth this and now affecteth that And hauing weyes not that which he requires But is vnpleasde euen in his pleasde desires Chaste Beauty so both will and will not haue The self-same thing it childishly doth craue And wanton-like now Loue now Hate affecteth And Loue or Hate obtain'd as fast neglecteth So like the Webb Penelope did weaue Which made by day shee did at night vnreaue Fruitlesse Affections endlesse threede is spunne At one selfe instant
still the farther off the more desire The absent fire doth burne with hotter paine My Ladies presence burnt me with desire Her absence turnes me into flaming fire Whoso hath seene the flame that burneth bright By outward colde in narrow roome supprest Encrease in heate and rage with greater might May ghesse what force of fire torments my brest So run the swelling streames with double force Where locks 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 cloasde it selfe to keepe those beames so cleere Which from her looke had pierst it through the Eie The firy beams which would breake out so faine By seeking vent encrease my burning paine But if my Deere returne aliue and found That these mine eyes may see her beautie bright My Hart shall spread with ioy that shall abound And open wide receiuing cleerer light Shee shall recouer that which I possesse And I thereby enioy no whit the lesse ODE V. Petition to haue her leaue to die WHen will the fountaine of my Teares be drie When will my sighes be spent When will Desire agree to let me die When will thy hart relent It is not for my life I pleade Since death the way to rest doth leade But stay for thy consent Lest thou be discontent For if my selfe without thy leaue I kill My Ghost will neuer rest So hath it sworne to worke thine only will And holds that euer best For since it only liues by thee Good reason thou the ruler bee Then giue me leaue to die And shew thy powre thereby THe frozen Snake opprest with heaped snowe By strugling hard gets out her tender head â—nd spies far off from where shee lies belowe The winter Sun that from the North is fled But all in vaine shee lookes vpon the light Where heate is wanting to restore her might What doth it helpe a wretch in prison pent â—ong time with biting hunger ouer-prest â—o see without or smell within the sent â—f daintie fare for others tables drest Yet Snake and pris'ner both behold the thing The which but not with sight might coÌ„fort bring â—ch is my state or worse if worse may bee â—y heart opprest with heauy frost of care â—ebar'd of that which is most deere to mee â—ld vp with colde and pinde with euill fare And yet I see the thing might yeeld reliefe And yet the sight doth breed my greater girefe Thisbe saw her louer through the wall â—â—d saw thereby shee wanted that shee saw â—â—d so I see and seeing want withall â—â—d wanting so vnto my drath I draw â—nd so my death were twenty times my frend â—f with this Verse my hated life might end ODE VI. IE my decay be your encrease If my distresse bee your delight If warre in me procure your peace If wrong to me to you be right I would decay distresse warre wrong Might end the life that ends so long Yet if by my decay you grow When I am spent your growth is past If from my griefe your Ioy do flow When my griefe ends your Ioy flies fast Then for your sake though to my paine I striue to liue to die full faine For if I die my warre must cease Then can I suffer wrong no more My warre once done farewel your peace My wrong your right doth still restore Thus for your right I suffer wrong And for your peace my warre prolong But since no thing can long indure That sometime hath not needefull rest What can my life your ioy assure If still I waile with griefe opprest The strongest stomacke faints at last For want of ease and due repast My restlesse sighes breake out so fast That time to breathe they quite deny Mine Eyes so many teares haue cast That now the springs themselues are dry Then grant some little ease from paine Vntill the springs bee full againe The Gyant whom the Vulture gnawes Vntill his heart be growne hath peace And Sisyphus by hellish lawes Whilste that the stone rowles downe doth cease But all in vaine I striue for rest Which breedes more sorrow in my brest Let my Decay bee your encrease Let my distresse bee your delight Let warre in mee procure your peace Let wrong in mee to you bee right That by my Griefe your Ioy may liue Vouchsafe some little rest to giue ODE VII CLose your lids vnhappy Eyes From the sight of such a change â—oue hath learned to despise â—elfe-conceit hath made him strange Inward now his sight he turneth With himselfe in loue hee burneth If abroad he beautie spie As by chance he lookes abroad Or it is wrought by his eye Or forc'de out by Painters fraude Saue himselfe none faire he deemeth That himselfe too much esteemeth â—oy disdaine hath kindnes place Kindnes forc'de to hide his head True Desire is counted base Hope with hope is hardly fed Loue is thought a fury needlesse Hee that hath it shal die speedlesse Then mine eies why gaze you so Beautie scornes the Teares you shed Death you seeke to end my woe O that you of death were sped But with Loue hath death conspired To kill none whom Loue haue fired CVpid at length I spie thy crafty wile Though for a time thou didst me sore beguile When first thy shaft did wound my tender hart â—t toucht mee light mee thought I felt some paine Some litle prick at first did make mee smart But yet that griefe was quickly gone againe â—ull small account I made of such a sore As now doth ranckle inward more and more So poyson first the sinewes lightly straines Then straies and after spreads through al the vaines No otherwise then he that prickt with thorne Starts at the first and feeles no other griefe As one whose hart so litle hurt did scorne And deigned not to seek despis'd reliefe At last when rest doth after trauaile come That litle pricke the joynt with paine doth numme What may I thinke the cause of this thy craft That at the first thou stick'st not deepe thy shaft If at the first I had thy stroke espi'de Alas I thought thou wouldst not dally so To keepe my selfe all wayes I would haue tride At least I thinke I might haue cur'd my woe Yet truth to say I did suspect no lesse And knew it too at least I so did ghesse I saw and yet would willingly be blinde I felt the sting yet flatt'red still my minde And now too late I know my former guilt And seeke in vaine to heale my curelesse sore My life I doubt my health I know is spilt A iust reward for dallying so before For I that would not when I might haue ease No maruell though I cannot when I please Clipeum post vulnera A Paraphrasticall translation of Petrarkes Sonnet beginning S' Amor non è che dunque è quel ch'io sento IF Loue bee nothing but an idle name A vaine deuise of foolish Poets skill A fained fire
kill desire This was the marke at which I shot so fast Vnto this height I did aspire Proud Loue now do thy worst and spare not â—or thee and all thy shafts I care not What hast thou left wherewith to moue my minde What life to quicken dead Desire 〈◊〉 count thy words and oathes as light as winde I feele no heate in all thy fire So change thy bow and get a stronger So breake thy shafts and buy thee longer â—n vaine thou bait'st thy hooke with beauties blaze In vaine thy wanton Eyes allure These are but toyes for them that loue to gaze I know what harme thy lookes procure â—ome strange conceit must be deuised Or thou and all thy skill despised Scilicet asserui iam me fugÃque catenas Being scorned and disdained hee inueighs against his Lady SInce iust disdaine began to rise And cry reuenge for spitefull wrong What erst I praisde I now despise And thinke my Loue was all too long I tread in durt that scornefull pride Which in thy lookes I haue descride Thy beautie is a painted skin For fooles to see their faces in Thine Eyes that some as Starres esteeme From whence themselues they say take light Like to thee foolish fire I deeme That leades men to their death by night Thy words and othes are light as winde And yet farre lighter is thy minde Thy friendship is a broken reede That failes thy friends in greatest neede Vitijs patientia victa est ODE XIIII The Tombe of dead Desire WHen Venus saw Desire must die Whom high disdayne Had iustly slaine For killing Truth with scornefull Eye The Earth shee leaues and gets her to the skie Her golden hayre shee teares Blacke weedes of woe shee weares For helpe vnto her father doth shee cry Who biddes her stay a space And hope for better grace To saue his life shee hath no skill Whom should shee pray What doo or say But weepe for wanting of her will Meane time Desire hath tane his last farewell And in a Meddow faire To which the Nymphs repayre His breathles Corps is laid with wormes to dwell So Glory doth decay When Death takes life away When Morning Starre had chafde the night The Queene of Loue Lookt from aboue To see the Graue of her delight And as with heedfull Eye shee viewd the place Shee spide a flower vnknowne That on his graue was growne â—n stead of learned Verse his Tombe to grace If you the Name require Hearts-ease from dead Desire An Altare and Sacrifice to Disdaine for freeing him from loue My Muse by thee restor'd to life To thee Disdaine this Altare reares Whereon she offers causlesse strife Self-spending sighs and bootlesse teares Long Sutes in vaine Hate for Good will Still-dying paine Yet liuing still Selfe-louing pride Lookes coyly strange Will Reasons guide Desire of change And last of all Blinde Fancies fire False Beauties thrall That bindes desire All these I offer to Disdaine By whome I liue from fancie free With vow that if I loue againe My life the sacrifice shall bee Vicimus dominum pedibus calcamus amorem ANOMOS Certaine other Poems vpon diuerse Subiects by the same Author Three Odes translated out of Anacreon the Greeke Lyrick Poet. ODE I. OF Atreus Sonnes faine would I write And faine of Cadmus would I sing My Lute is set on Loues delight And onely Loue sounds eu'ry string Of late my Lute I alt'red quite Both frets and strings for tunes aboue I sung of fierce Alcides might My Lute would sound no tune but Loue Wherefore yee worthles all farewell No tune but Loue my Lute can tell ODE II. THe Bull by nature hath his hornes The Horse his hooues to daunt their foes The light-foot Hare the hunter scornes The Lions teeth his strength disclose The Fish by swimming scapes the wee le The Bird by slight the fowlers net With wisedome Man is arm'd as steele Poore women none of these can get What haue they then faire Beauties grace A two-edg'd Sworde a trusty Shielde No force resists a louely face Both fire and sworde to Beautie yielde ODE III. OF late what time the Beare turnd round At midnight in her woonted way â—nd men of all sorts slept full sound â—'re come with labour of the day The God of Loue came to my dore â—nd tooke the ring and knockt it hard â—ho's there quoth I that knocks so sore â—ou breake my sleepe my dreames are marde A little boy forsooth quoth hee Dung-wet with raine this Moonelesse night With that mee thought it pittied mee I ope the dore and candle light And straight a little boy I spide A winged Boy with shaftes and bow I tooke him to the fire side And set him downe to warme him so His little hands in mine I straine To rub and warme them therewithall Out of his locks I crush the raine From which the drops apace downe fall At last when he was waxen warme Now let me try my bow quoth hee I feare my string hath caught some harme And wet will proue too slacke for mee Hee said and bent his bow and shot And wightly hit me in the hart The wound was sore and raging hot The heate like fury rekes my smart Mine host quoth he my string is well And laugh't so that he leapt againe Looke to your wound for feare it swell Your heart may hap to feele the paine Anacreons second Ode otherwise NAture in her worke doth giue To each thing that by her doth liue A proper gift whereby shee may Preuent in time her owne decay The Bull a horne the horse a hoofe The light-foote hare to run aloofe The Lyons strength who may resist The birds aloft flie where they list The fish swimmes safe in waters deepe The silly worme at least can creepe What is to come men can forecast And learne more witt by that is past The womans gift what might it bee The same for which the Ladies three Pallas Iuno Venus straue When each desired it to haue T. S. Anacreons third Ode otherwise CVpid abroad was lated in the night His Wings were wett with ranging in the raine Harbour hee sought to mee hee tooke his flight To dry his plumes I heard the Boy complayne I opte the doore and granted his desire I rose my selfe and made the Wag a fire Prying more narrow by the fiers flame I spide his Quiuer hanging at his backe Doubting the Boy might my misfortune frame I would haue gone for feare of further wracke But what I feard did mee poore wretch betide For forth hee drew an Arrow from his side Hee pierst the quicke and I began to start A pleasing wound but that it was too high His shaft procurde a sharpe yet sugred smart Away hee flew for now his wings were dry But left the Arrow sticking in my Brest That sore I greeue I welcom'd such a Guest R. G. THe lowest Trees haue tops the Ante her gall The flie her splene the little sparkes their heate The slender haires