Selected quad for the lemma: ground_n
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A20814
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Englands heroicall epistles. By Michaell Drayton; England's heroical epistles
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Drayton, Michael, 1563-1631.
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1597
(1597)
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STC 7193; ESTC S111950
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80,584
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164
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had I layne bedrid long One smile of thine againe could make me yong VVere there in Art a power but so diuine As is in that sweet Angell-tongue of thine That great Inchauntresse which once tooke such paines To force young blood in Aesons wither'd vaines And frō groues mountaines medowes marshe fen Brought all the simples were ordaind for men And of those plants those hearbs those flowers those weeds Vsed the roots the leaues the iuyce the seeds And in this powerfull potion that shee makes Puts blood of men of beasts of birds of snakes Neuer had needed to haue gone so far To seeke the soyles where all those simples are One accent from thy lypps the blood more warmes Then all her philtres exorcismes and charmes Thy presence hath repaired in one day VVhat manie yeeres and sorrowes did decay And made fresh beauties fairest branches spring From wrinckled furrowes of Times ruining Euen as the hungry winter-starued earth VVhen shee by nature labours towards her birth Still as the day vpon the darke world creepes One blossom foorth after another peepes Till the small flower whose roote is nowe vnbound Gets from the frostie prison of the ground Spreading the leaues vnto the powerfull noone Deck'd in fresh colours smiles vpon the sunne Neuer vnquiet care lodg'd in that brest VVhere but one thought of Rosamond dyd rest Nor thirst nor trauaile which on warre attend Ere brought the long day to desired end Nor yet did pale Feare or leane Famine liue vvhere hope of thee did any comfort giue Ah what iniustice then is this of thee That thus the guiltlesse doost condemne for me VVhen onely shee by meanes of my offence Redeemes thy purenes and thy innocence VVhen to our wills perforce obey they must That iust in them whatere in vs vniust Of what we doe not them account we make Thysserues for all they doe it for our sake And what to worke a Princes will may merit Hath deep'st impression in a gentle spirit Our powerfull wills drawne by attractiue beautie They to our wills arm'd by subiectiue dutie And true affection doth no bound reteane For this is sure firme loue had neuer meane And whilst the cause by reason is disputed Reason itselfe by loue is most confuted Ift be my name that doth thee so offend No more my selfe shall be mine owne names friend And ift be that which thou doost onely hate That name in my name lastly hath his date Say tis accurst and fatall and dispraise it If written blot it if engrauen raze it Say that of all names tis a name of woe Once a Kings name but now it is not so And when all this is done I know twill grieue thee And therefore sweet why should I now beleeue thee Nor shouldst thou thinke those eyes with enuie lower vvhich passing by thee gaze vp to thy tower But rather praise thine owne which be so cleere VVhich from the Turret like two starres appeare And in theyr moouings like a Christall glasse Make such reflection vnto all that passe Aboue the sunne doth shine beneath thine eyes As though two sunnes at once shin'd in two skyes The little streame which by thy tower doth glide VVhere oft thou spend'st the weary euening tide To view thee well his course would gladly stay As loth from thee to part so soone away And with salutes thy selfe would gladly greete And offer vp those small drops at thy feete But finding that the enuious bankes restraine it To'xcuse it selfe doth in this sort complaine it And therefore this sad bubling murmur keepes And in this sort within the channell weepes And as thou doost into the water looke The fishe which see thy shadow in the brooke Forget to feede and all amazed lye So daunted with the luster of thine eye And that sweet name which thou so much doost wrong In time shall be some famous Poets song And with the very sweetnes of that name Lyons and Tygars men shal learne to tame The carefull mother from her pensiue brest vvith Rosamond shall bring her babe to rest The little birds by mens continuall sound Shall learne to speake and prattle Rosamond And when in Aprill they begin to sing vvith Rosamond shall welcome in the spring And she in whom all rarities are found Shall still be said to be a Rosamond The little flowers which dropping honied dew which as thou writ'st do weepe vpon thy shue Not for thy fault sweet Rosamond doe mone But weep for griefe that thou so soone art gone For if thy foote tuch Hemlocke as it goes That Hemlock's made more sweeter then the Rose Of loue or Neptune how they did betray Nor speake of 1-0 or Amimone VVhen she for whom Ioue once became a Bull Compar'd with thee had been a tawny trull He a white Bull and shee a whiter Cow Yet he nor she nere halfe so white as thou Long since thou knowst my care prouided for To lodge thee safe from iealious Ellinor The Labyrinths conueyance guides thee so vvhich onely Vahan thou and I doe knowe If shee doe guard thee with a hundred eyes I haue an hundred subtile Mercuries To watch that Argus which my loue doth keep Vntill eye after eye fall all to sleepe Those starrs looke in by night looke in to see VVondring what starre heere on the earth should bee As oft the Moone amidst the silent night Hath come to ioy vs with her friendly light And by the Curtaine help'd mine eye to see VVhat enuious night and darknes hid from mee vvhen I haue wish'd that shee might euer stay And other worlds might still enioy the day VVhat should I say words teares and sighes be spent And want of time dooth further helps preuent My Campe resounds with feare sull shocks of war Yet in my breast the worser conflicts are Yet is my signall to the battailes sound The blessed name of beautious Rosamond Accursed be that hart that tongue that breath Should thinke should speake or whisper of thy death For in one smyle or lower from thy sweet eye Consists my life my hope my victorie Sweet VVoodstock where my Rosamond doth rest Blessed in her in whom thy King is blest For though in Fraunce a while my body bee Sweet Paradice my hart remaines in thee Notes of the Chronicle historie Am I at home pursued with priuate hate And warre comes raging to my Pallace gate RObert Earle of Leicester who tooke part with young king Henry entred into England with an Army of 3. thousand Flemmings and spoyled the Countryes of Norfolke and Suffolke beeing succoured by many of the Kings priuate enemies And am I branded with the curse of Roome King Henry the second the first Plantaginet accused for the death of Thomas Becket Archbishop of Canterbury slaine in the Cathedrall Church was accursed by Pope Alexander although he vrgd sufficient proofe of his innocencie in the same and offered to take vpon him any pennance so he might escape the curse interdiction of the Realme And by the pride
this slaunder doost thou bring To make my fault renowned by a King Fame neuer stoopes to things but meane and poore The more our greatnes makes our fault the more Lights on the ground themselues doe lessen farre But in the ayre each small sparke seemes a starre VVhy on a womans frailetie wouldst thou lay This subtile plot mine honour to betray Or thy vnlawfull pleasure should'st thou buy vvith vile expence of kinglie maiestie T'was not my minde consented to this ill Then had I beene transported by my will For what my body was enforst to doe Heauen knowes my soule did not consent vnto For through mine eyes had shee her liking seene Such as my loue such had my louer beene True loue is simple like his mother Truth Kindlie affection youth to loue with youth No sharper corsiue to our blooming yeares Then the cold badge of vvinter = blasted haires Thy kinglie power makes to withstand thy foes But canst not keepe backe age with time it growes Though honour our ambitious sexe doth please Yet in that honour age a foule disease Nature hath her free course in all and then Age is alike in Kings and other men VVhich all the world will to my shame impute That I my selfe did basely prostitute And say that gold was suell to the fire Gray haires in youth not kindling greene desire O no that wicked woman wrought by thee My temptor was to that forbidden tree That subtile serpent that seducing deuill vvhich bad mee taste the fruite of good and euill That Circe by whose magicke I was charm'd And to this monstrous shape am thus transform'd That viperous hagge the foe to her owne kind That wicked spirit vnto the weaker minde Our frailties plague our natures onely curse Hells deep'st damnation the worst euills worse But Henry how canst thou affect me thus T'vvhom thy remembrance now is odious My haplesse name with Henries name I found Cut in the glasse with Henries Diamond That glasse from thence fainc would I take away But then I feare the ayre would me betray Then doe I striue to wash it out with teares But then the same more euident appeares Then doe I couer it with my guiltie hand vvhich that names witnes doth against mee stand Once did I sinne which memory doth cherrish Once I offended but I euer perrish VVhat griefe can be but time dooth make it lesse But infamy tyme neuer can suppresse Some-times to passe the tedious irkesome howres I clymbe the top of Woodstocks mounting towers VVhere in a Turret secretly I lye To viewe from farre such as doe trauaile by VVhether mee thinks all cast theyr eyes at mee As through the stones my shame did make them see And with such hate the harmles walls doe view As vnto death theyr eyes would mee pursue The married women curse my hatefull life VVhich wrong a lawfull bed a Queene a wife The maydens wish I buried quicke may die The lothsome staine to their virginitie VVell knew'st thou what a monster I would bee VVhen thou didst builde this Labyrinth for mee VVhose strange Meanders turning euery way Be like the course wherein my youth did stray Onely a Clue to guide mee out and in But yet still walke I circuler in sinne As in the Tarras heere this other day My maide and I did passe the time away Mongst manie pictures which we passed by The silly girle at length hapt to espie Chast Lucrece picture and desires to know VVhat shee should be herselfe that murdred so VVhy girle quoth I this is that Romaine dame Not able then to tell the rest for shame My tougue doth mine owne guiltines betray VVith that I send the pratling girle away Least when my lisping guiltie tongue should hault My lookes should be the Index to my fault As that life blood which from the hart is sent In beauties fielde pitching his Crimson Tent In louely sanguine sutes the Lilly cheeke VVhilst it but for a resting place dooth seeke And changing often-times with sweet delight Conuerts the white to red the red to white The louely blush the palenes dooth distaine The palenes makes the blush more faire againe Thus in my breast a thousand thoughts I carry vvhich in my passion diuersly doe varry VVhen as the sunne hales towards the westerne slade And the trees shadowes three times greater made Foorth goe I to a little Current neere VVhich like a wanton trayle creepes heere and there VVhere with mine angle casting in my baite The little fishes dreading the deceit vvith fearefull nibbling flie th'inticing gin By nature taught what danger lyes therein Things reasonlesse thus warnd by nature bee Yet I deuourd the baite was layd for mee Thinking thereon and breaking into grones The bubling spring which trypps vppon the stones Chides mee away least sitting but too nie I should pollute that natiue puritie Rose of the VVorld so dooth import my name Shame of the worlde my life hath made the same And to th'vnchast thys name shall giuen bee Of Rosamond deriu'd from sinne and mee The Clyffords take from mee that name of theirs Famous for vertue many hundred yeeres They blot my birth with hatefull bastardie That I sprang not from their Nobilitie They my alliance vtterly refuse Nor will a strumpet shall their name abuse Heere in the Garden wrought by curious hands Naked Diana in the fountaine standes vvith all her Nimphs got round about to hide her As when Acteon had by chaunce espvde her This sacred image I no sooner view'd But as that meta morphosd man pursu'd By his owne hounds so by my thoughts am I vvhich chase mee still which way so ere I flie Touching the grasse the honny-dropping dew vvhich falls in teares before my limber shue Vpon my foote consumes in weeping still As it would say Why went'st thou vnto ill Thus to no place in safetie can I goe But euery thing 〈◊〉 giue mee cause of woe In that faire Casket of such wondrous cost Thou sent'st the night before mine honour lost Amimone was wrought a harmelesse maide By Neptune that adulterous God betrayd Shee prostrate at his feete begging with prayers vvringing her hands her eyes swolne vp with teares This was not the entrapping baite of men But by thy vertue gentlie warning then To shew to mee for what intent it came Least I therein should euer keepe my shame And in this Casket ill I see it now VVas loues-loue l-o turnd into a Cowe Yet was shee kept with Argus hundred eyes So wakefull still be lunos iealousies By this I well might haue fore-warned beene T'haue cleerd my selfe to thy suspecting Queene vvho with more hundred eyes attendeth mee Then had poore Argus single eyes to see In this thou righthe imitatest loue Into a beast thou hast transformd thyloue Nay worser farre degenerate from kinde A monster both in body and in minde The waxen Taper which I burne by night vvith his dull vapory dimnes mocks my sight As though the dampe which hinders his cleere flame Came from