long I musing satte But that my thoughtes compell'd me to aspire A Laurell garland in my hande I gatte So the Muses I approch'd the nyer My sute was this a Poet to become To drinke with them and from the heavens be fedde Phaebus denyed and sware there was no roome Such to be Poets as fonde fancie ledde With that I mourn'd and sat me downe to weepe Venus she smil'd and smyling to me saide Come drinke with me and sitt thee still and sleepe This voyce I heard and Venus I obayde That poyson sweete hath done me all this wrong For nowe of love must needes be all my song Sonnet II. Wearie was love and sought to take his rest He made his choice uppon a virgins lappe And slylie crept from thence unto her breast Where still he meant to sport him in his happe The virgin frown'd like Phoebus in a cloude Go packe sir boy here is no roome for yâ—â— My breast no wanton foolish boyes must shroude This saide my Love did giue the wagge a tuch Then as the foot that treads the stinging snake Hastes to be gone for feare what may ensewe So love my love was forst for to forsake And for more speede without his arrowes flewe Pardon he saide for why you seem'd to me My mother Venus in her pride to be Sonnet III. The heavens beheld the beautie of my Queene And all amaz'd to wonder thus began Why dotes not Iove as erst we all have seene And shapes him selfe like to a seemely man Meane are the matches which he sought before Like bloomelesse buddes too base to make compate And she alone hath treasur'd beauties store In whome all giftes and princely graces are Cupid reyly'd I posted with the Sunne To viewe the maydes that lived in those dayes And none there was that might not well be wonne But she most hard most cold made of delayes Heavens were deceiv'd and wrong they doe esteeme She hath no heat although she living seeme Sonet IIII. Love and my love did range the forrest wilde Mounted alyke upon swift coursers both Love her encountred though he was a childe Let 's strive saith he whereat my love vvas vvroth And scorn'd the boy and checkt him with a smile I mounted am and armed with my speare Thou art too weake thy selfe doe not beguile I could thee conquere if I naked were With this love wept and then my love reply'd Kisse me sweet boy so weepe my boy no more Thus did my love and thus her force she try'd Love was made yee that fier was before A kisse of hers as I poore soule doe proove Can make the hottest freese and coldest love Sonnet V. Love with her haire my love by force hath ty'd To serve her lippes her eies her voice her hand I smil'd for joy when I the boye espy'd To lie inchain'd and live at her commaund She if she looke or kisse or sing or smile Cupid withall doth smile doth sing doth kisse Lippes handes voice eies all hearts that may beguile Bicause she scornes all hearts but onlie this Venus for this in pride began to frowne That Cupid borne a god inthrald should be She in disdaine her prettie sonne threwe downe And in his place with love she chained me So now sweet love though I my selfe be thrale Not her a goddesse but thy selfe I call Sonnet VI. My love amaz'd did blush her selfe to see Pictur'd by arte all naked as she was How could the Painter knowe so much by me Or Art effect what he hath brought to passe It is not lyke he naked me hath seene Or stoode so nigh for to observe so much No sweete his eyes so nere have never bene Nor could his handes by arte have cunning such I showed my heart wherein you printed were You naked you as here you painted are In that My Love your picture I must weare And show 't to all unlesse you have more care Then take my heart and place it with your owne So shall you naked never more be knowne Sonnet VII Death in a rage assaulted once my heart With love of her my love that doeth denie I scorn'd his force and wisht him to depart I heartlesse was and therefore could not die I live in her in her I plac'd my life She guydes my soule and her I honour must Nor is this life but yet a living strife A thing unmeet and yet a thing most just Cupid inrag'd did flie to make me love My heart lay garded with those burning eies The sparkes whereof denyed him to remoove So conquerd now he like a captive lies Thus two at once by love were both undone My heart not lov'd and armlesse Venus Sonet VIII Harde are the rockes the marble and the steele The auncient oake with wind and weather tost But you my love farre harder doe I feele Then flinte or these or is the winters frost My teares too weake your heart they can not moove My sighes that rocke like wind it cannot rent Too Tyger-like you sweare you cannot love But teares and sighes you fruitlesse backe have sent The frost too hard not melted with my flame I Cynders am and yet you feele no heate Surpasse not these sweet love for verie shame But let my teares my vowes my sighes entreat Then shall I say as I by triall finde These all are hard but you my love are kind Sonnet IX Love was layd downe all wearie fast asleepe Whereas my love his armour tooke away The boye awak'd and straight began to weepe But stood amaz'd and knew not what to say Weepe not my boy said Venus to her sonne Thy weapons non can weild but thou alone Lycia the faire this harme to thee hath done I sawe her here and presentlie was gone She will restore them for she hath no need To take thy weapons where thy valour lies For men to wound the Fates have her decreed With favour handes with beautie and with eies No Venus no she scornes them credite me But robb'd thy sonne that none might care for thee Sonnet X. A paynter drew the image of the boye Swift love with winges all naked and yet blind With bowe and arrowes bent for to destroye I blam'd his skill and fault I thus did fynde A needlesse taske I see thy cunning take Misled by love thy fancie thee betrayde Love is no boye nor blinde as men him make Nor weapons weares whereof to be affrayde But if thou love wilt paint with greatest skill A Love a mayde a goddesse and a Queene Woonder and viewe at Lycias picture still For other love the world hath never seene For she alone all hope all comfort gives Mens hearts soules all led by her favour lives Sonnet XI In Ida vale three Queenes the shepheard sawe Queenes of esteeme divine they were all three A sight of worth but I a wonder shawe There vertues all in one alone to be Lycia the fayre surpassing Venus pride The matchlesse Queene commaunder of the goddes When drawen with doves she in
that faire unkinde Renewes my love and I no favour finde Sweete are my dreames my dreames that are not sweet Long are the nightes the nightes that are not long Meete are the panges these panges that are unmeet Wrong'd is my heart my heart that hath no wrong Thus dreames and night my heart my pangs and all In taste in length conspire to worke my fall Sweet are my dreames because my love they showe Vnsweet my dreames because but dreames they are Long are the nights because no helpe I know Short are the nights because the end my care Thus dreames and nightes wherein my love takes spor Are sweet unsweet are long and yet too short Meet are my panges because I was too bolde Vnmeet my panges because I lov'd so well Wrong'd was my heart because my griefe it tolde Not wrongd for why my griefe it could not tell Thus you my love unkindlie cause this smart That will not love to case my panges and heart Proud is her looke her looke that is not proude Done are my dayes my dayes that are not done Lowd are my sighes my sighes that are not lowd Begun my death my death not yet begunne Thus looks and dayes and sighs and death might move So kind so faire to give consent to love Proud is her looke because she scornes to see Not proud her looke for none dare say so much Done are my dayes because they haplesse be Not done my dayes because I wish them such Thus lookes and dayes increase this loving strife Not proude nor done nor dead nor giving life Loud are my sighes because they pearce the skie Not loud my sighes because they are not heard My death begunne because I heartlesse crie But not begunne because I am debard Thus sighes and death my heart no comfort give Both lyfe denie and both do make me live Bold are her smiles her smiles that are not bold Wise are her wordes those words that are not wise Cold are her lippes those lippes that are not colde I se are those hands those handes that are not I se Thus smiles and wordes her lippes her hands and she Bold wise cold I se loves cruell torments be Bold are her smiles because they anger slay Not bold her smiles because they blush so oft Wise are her wordes because they woonders say Not wise her wordes because they are not soft Thus smiles and wordes so cruell and so bold So blushing wise my thoughtes in prison hold Colde are her lippes because they breath no heate Not colde her lippes because my heart they burne I se are her handes because the snow's so great Not Ise her handes that all to ashes turne Thus lippes and handes cold Ise my sorrowe bred Hands warme-white-snow and lippes cold cherrie red Small was her wast the wast that was not small Gold was her haire the haire that was not gold Tall was her shape the shape that was not tall Folding the armes the armes that did not folde Thus haire and shape those folding armes and wast Did make me love and loving made me waste Small was her wast because I could it spanne Not small her wast because she wasted all Gold was her haire because a crowne it wanne Not gold her haire because it was more pale Thus smallest waste the greatest wast doth make And finest haire most fast a lover take Tall was her shape because she toucht the skie Not tall her shape because she comelie was Folding her armes because she hearts could tie Not folded armes because all bands they passe Thus shape and armes with love my heart did plie That hers I am and must be till I die Sad was her joy her joy that was not sadde Short was her staie her staie that was not short Glad was her speach her speach that was not glad Sporting those toyes those toyes that were not sport Thus was my heart with joy speach toyes and stay Possest with love and so stollen quite avvay Sadde was her joy because she did suspect Not sad her joy because her joy she had Short was her staie because to smal effect Long was her stay because I was so sadde Thus joy and staie both crost a lovers sporte The one was sadde the other too too short Glad was her speach because shee spake her mind Not glad her speach because affraid to speake Sporting her toyes because my love was kinde Not toyes in sport because my heart they breake Thus speach and toyes my love began in jest Sweet yeeld to love and make thy servant blest Tread you the Maze sweet love that I have run Marke but the steppes which I imprinted have End but your love whereas my thoughtes begun So shall I joye and you a servant have If not sweet loue then this my sute denie So shall you live and so your servant die AN ELEGIE Downe in a bed and on a bed of doune Love she and I to sleepe together lay She lyke a wanton kist me with a frowne Sleepe sleepe she saide but meant to steale away I could not choose but kisse but wake but smile To see how she thought us two to beguile She faind a sleepe I wakt her with a kisse A kisse to me she gave to make me sleepe If I did wrong sweete love my fault was this In that I did not you thus waking keepe Then kisse me sweet that so I sleepe may take Or let me kisse to keepe you still awake The night drew on and needs she must be gone She waked love and bid him learne to waite She sigh'd she said to leave me there alone And bid love stay but practise no deceit Love wept for griefe and sighing made great mone And could not sleepe nor staie if she were gone Then staie sweet love a kisse with that I gave She could not staie but gave my kisse againe A kisse was all that I could gett or crave And with a kisse she bound me to remaine A Licia still I in my dreames did crie Come Licia come or els my heart will die ELEGIE II. 1 Distance of place my love and me did part Yet both did sweare we never would remove In signe thereof I bid her take my heart Which did and doth and can not chuse but love Thus did we part in hope to meete againe Where both did vow most constant to remaine 2 A She there was that past betwixt us both By whome ech knew how others cause did fare For men to trust men in their love are loth Thus had we both of love a lovers care Haply he seekes his sorrowes to renue That for his love doth make another sue 3 By her a kisse a kisse to me she sent A kisse for price more worth then purest gold She gave it her to me the kisse was ment A she to kisse what harme if she were bold Happy those lippes that had so sweete a kisse For heaven it selfe scarce yeeldes so sweete a blisse 4 This modest she blushing for shame of
graces blottes not graces are Yf you my love of love doe doe take no care Sonnet XXXII Yeares months daies houres in sighes I sadlie spend I blacke the night wherein I sleeplesse tosse I love my griefs yet wish them at an end Thus tymes expence encreaseth but my losse I musing stand and woonder at my love That in so faire should be a heart of steele And then I thinke my fancie to remove But then more painfull I my passions feele Thus must I love sweet faire untill I die And your unkindnesse doth my love encrease I conquerd am I can it not denie My lyse must end yet shall my love not cease Then heavens make Licia faire most kind to me Or with my life my loue may finisht be Sonnet XXXV When as I wish faire Licia for a kisse From those sweet lippes where Rose and Lillies strive Straight doe mine eies repine at such a blisse And seeke my lippes thereof for to deprive When as I seeke to glut mine eies by sight My lippes repine and call mine eyes away Thus both contend to have each others right And both conspire to worke my full decay O force admyt'd of beautie in her pride In whose each part such strange effects there be That all my forces in themselves devide And make my senses plainlie disagree If all were mine this envie would be gone Then graunt me all faire sweet or grant me none Sonnet XXXVI Heare how my sighes are ecchoed of the wind See how my teares are pittied by the raine Feele what a flame possessed hath my mind Taste but the griefe which I possesse in vaine Then if my sighes the blustering windes surpasse And watrie teares the droppes of raine exceed And if no flame like mine nor is nor was Nor griefe like that wheron my soule doth feed Relent faire Licia when my sighes doe blowe Yeeld at my teares that flint-like droppes consume Accept the flame that doth my incense showe Allowe the griefe that is my hearts perfume Thus sighes and teares flame griefe shall plead for me So shall I pray and you a goddesse be Sonnet XXXVIII I speake faire Licia what my torments be But then my speach too partiall doe I finde For hardlie words can with those thoughts agree Those thoughtes that swarme in such a troubled mind Then doe I vowe my tongue shall never speake Nor tell my griefe that in my heart doth lie But cannon-like I then surchardg'd doe breake And so my silence worse than speach I trie Thus speach or none they both doe breed my care I live dismayd and kill my heart with griefe In all respectes my case alyke doth fare To him that wants and dare not aske reliefe Then you faire Licia soveraigne of my heart Read to your selfe my anguish and my â—â—art Sonnet XXXVIII Sweet I protest and seale it with an oath I never saw that so my thoughtes did please And yet content displeas'd I see them wroth To love so much and cannot have their case I tolde my thoughts my soveraigne made a pause Dispos'd to graunt but willing to delay They then repin'd for that they knewe no cause And swore they wisht she flatlie would say nay Thus hath my love my thoughts with treason fild And gainst my soveraigne taught them to repine So thus my treason all my thoughts hath kill'd And made faire Licia say she is not mine But thoughts too rash my heart doth now repent And as you please they sweare they are content Sonnet XXXIX Faire matchlesse Nymph respect but what I crave My thoughts are true and honour is my love I fainting die whome yet a smile might save You gave the wound and can the hurt remove Those eyes like starres that twinkle in the night And cheeks like rubies pale in lilies dy'd Those Ebon hands hands that darting have such might That in my soule my loue and live devide Accept the passions of a man possest Let Love be lov'd and graunt me leave to live Disperse those clouds that darkened have my rest And let your heaven a sun-like smile but give Then shall I praise that heaven for such a sunne That saved my life when as my griefe begun Sonnet XL. My griefe begunne faire Saint when first I saw Love in those eyes sit ruling with disdaine Whose sweet commandes did keepe a world in awe And caus'd them serve your favour to obtaine I stood as one enchaunted with a frowne Yet smilde to see all creatures serue those eyes Where each with sighes paid tribute to that crowne And thought them graced by your dumme replyes But I ambitious could not be content Till that my service more than sighes made knowne And for that end my heart to you I sent To say and sweare that faire it is your owne Then greater graces Licia doe impart Not dumme replies unto a speaking heart A SONNET MADE VPON THE TWO Twinnes daughters of the Ladie Mollineux both passing like and exceeding faire Poets did faine that heavens a Venus had Matchlesse her selfe and Cupid was her sonne Men sew'd to these and of their smiles were glad By whome so manie famous were undone Now Cupid mournes that he hath lost his might And that these two so comelie are to see And Venus frowns because they have her right Yet both so like that both shall blamelesse be With heavens two twinnes for godhead these may strive And rule a world with least part of a frowne Fairer then these two twinnes are not alive Both conquering Queenes both deserve a crowne My thoughts presage which tyme to come shall trie That thousands conquerd for their love shall die Sonnet XLI If aged Charon when my life shall end I passe thy ferrye and my wafftage pay Thy oares shall fayle thy boate and maste shall rend And through the deepe shall be a drye foote-way For why my heart with sighs doth breath such flame That ayre and water both incensed be The boundlesse Ocean from whose mouth they came For from my heare not heaven it selfe is free Then since to me thy losse can be no gaine Avoyd thy harme and flye what I foretell Make thou my love with me for to be slaine That I with her and both with thee may dwel Thy fact thus Charon both of us shall blesse Thou save thy boat and I my love possesse Sonnet XLII For if alone thou thinke to waft my love Her cold is such as can the sea commaund And frolen Ice shall let thy boate to move Nor can thy forces rowe it from the land But if thou friendly both at once shalt take Thy selfe mayst rest for why my sighes will blowe Our colde and heate so sweete a thawe shall make As that thy boate without thy helpe shall rowe Then will I sitte and glut me on those eyes Where with my life my eyes could never fill Thus from thy boate that comfort shall arise The want whereof my life and hope did kill Together plac'd so thou her skorne shalt crosse Where if
some fewe Cynickes that commend none that do well that you would have thought England would haue striven for their spedie preferment but lyke a woonder it lasted but nine dayes and all is quiet and forgotten the best is they are yong men and may live to be preferred at another time so what am I worse if men mislike and vse tearmes I can say as much by them For our great men I am sure they want leasure to reade and if they had yet for the most part the worst speake worst Well let the Printer looke he grow not a begger by such bargaynes the Reader that he loose not his labour and for mine that is past and who so wiselie after an afternoones sleepe gapes and saith Oh howe yong men spend their time idlie first let him spende his tyme better than to sleepe Seeondlie he knowes not my age I feared a hot ague and with Tasso I was content to let my wit blood But leaving these to their dogged humour and wishing your Lady-ship all happinesse I humbly take my leave From my chamber Sept. 4. 1593. To the Reader I Had thought curteous and gentle Reader not to have troubled thy patience vvith these lines but that in the neglect thereof I shoulde either scorne thee as careless of thine opinion a thing savouring of a proud humour or dispaire to obtaine thy favor vvhich I am loth to conceive of thy good nature If I were knowne I vvould intreat in the best manner and speake for him vvhome thou knewest but beeing not knowne thou speakest not against me and therefore I much care not for this kinde of poetrie vvherein I vvrote I did it onelie to trie my humour and for the matter of love it may bee I am so devoted to some one into vvhose hands these may light by chance that she may say vvhich thou nowe saiest that surelie he is in love vvhich if she doe then have I the full recompence of my labour and the Poems have dealt sufficientlie for the discharge of their owne duetie This age is learnedlie vvise and faultles in this kind of making their vvittes knowne thinking so baselie of our bare English vvherein thousandes have traveilled vvith such ill lucke that they deeme themselves barbarous and the Iland barren unlesse they have borrowed from Italie Spaine and France their best and choicest conceites for my owne parte I am of this mind that our nation is so exqaisite neither vvoulde I overweininglie seeme to flatter our home-spunne stuffe or diminish the credite of our brave traveilers that neither Italie Spaine nor France can goe beiondvs for exact invention for if aniething be odious amongst vs it is the exile of our olde maners and some base-borne phrases stuft up vvith such newe tearmes as a man may sooner feele vs to slatter by our incrouching eloquence than suspect it from the eare And for the matter of love vvhere everie man takes upon him to court exactlie I could iustlie grace if it be a grace to be excellent in that kinde the Innes of Court and some Gentlemen like students in both Vniversities vvhose learning and bringing up together vvith their fine natures makes so sweet a harmonie as vvithout partialitie the most iniurious vvill preferre them before all others and therefore they onelie are fittest to vvrite of Love For others for the moste parte are men of meane reach vvhose imbased mindes praie uppon everie badde dish men unfitte to knowe vvhat love meanes deluded fondlie vvith their owne conceit misdeeming so divine a fancie taking it to bee the contentment of themselves the shame of others the vvrong of vertue and the refiner of the tongue boasting of some fewe favours These and such like errours errours hatefull to an upright minde commonlie by learnlesse heades are reputed for loves kingdome But vaine men naturallie led deluded themselves deceive others For Love is a Goddesse pardon me though I speake like a Poet not respecting the contentment of him that loves but the vertues of the beloved satisfied vvith vvoondering fedde vvith admiration respecting nothing but his Ladies vvoorthinesse made as happie by love as by all favours chaste by honour farre from violence respecting but one and that one in such kindnesse honestie trueth constancie and honoar as vvere all the vvorld offered to make a change yet the boote vvere too small and therefore bootles This is love and farre more than this vvhich I knowe a vulgare head a base minde an ordinarie conceit a common person will not nor cannot have thus doc I commende that love vvherewith in these poemes I have honoured the voorthie LICIA But the love vvhere with Venus sonne hath injuriouslie made spoile of thousandes is a cruell tyrant occasion of sighes oracle of lies enemie of pittie vvay of errour shape of inconstancie temple of treason faith vvithout assurance monarch of tears murtherer of ease prison of heartes monster of nature poisoned honney impndant courtizan furious bastard and in one vvord not Love Thue Reader take heede thou erre not aesteeme Love as thou ought If thou muse vvhat my LICIA is take her to be some Diana at the least chaste or some Minerva no Venus fairer farre it may be shee is Learnings image or some heavenlie vvoonder vvhich the precisest may not mislike perhaps under that name I have shadowed Discipline It may be I meane that kinde courtesie vvhich I found at the Patronesse of these Poems it may bee some Colledge it may bee my conceit and portende nothing vvhat soever it be if thou like it take it and thanke the vvorthie Ladie MOLLINEVX for whose sake thou hast it vvorthie indeed and so not onlie reputed by me in private affection of thankefulnesse but so equallie to be esteemed by all that knowe her For if I had not received of her and good Sir RICHARD of kind and vvise M. LEE of curteous M. HOVGHTON all matchlesse matched in one kindred those unrequitable favours I had not thus idlely toyed If thou mislike it yet she or they or both or divine LICIA shall patronize it or if none I vvill and can doe it my selfe yet I vvish thy favour do but say thou art content and I rest thine if not farewel till we both meete Septemb. 8. 1593. TO LICIA THE WISE KINDE Vertuous and fayre Bright matchles starre the honour of the skie From whose cleare shine heavens vawt hath all his light I send these Poems to your gracelesse eye Doe you but take them and they have their right I build besides a Temple to your name Wherein my thoughtes shall daily sing your praise And will erect an aulter for the same Which shall your vertues and your honour raise But heaven the Temple of your honour is Whose brasen toppes your worthie selfe made proude The ground an aulter base for such a blisse With pitie torne because I sigh'd so loude And since my skill no worship can impart Make you an incense of my loving heart Sonnet I. Sadde all alone not
her pompe doeth ride Hath farre more beautie and more grace by oddes Iuno Ioves wife unmeete to make compare I graunt a goddesse but not halfe so mylde Minerva wife a vertue but not rare Yet these are meane if that my love but smyl'de She them surpasseth when their prides are full As farre as they surpasse the meanest trull Sonnet XIII I wish sometimes although a wortlesse thing Spurd by ambition glad for to aspyre My selfe a Monarch or some mightie King And then my thoughtes doe wish for to be hyer But when I view what windes the Cedars tosse What stormes men seele that covet for renowne I blame my selfe that I have wisht my losse And scorne a kindgome though it give a crowne A'Licia thou the wonder of my thought My heartes content procurer of my blisse For whome a crowne I doe esteme as nought And Asias wealth too meane to buy a kisse Kisse me sweete love this favour doe for me Then Crownes and Kingdomes shall I scrone for thee Sonnet XIII Inamour'd Iove commaunding did intreat Cupid to wound my love which he deny'd And swore he could not for she wanted heate And would not love as he full oft had try'd Iove in a rage impatient this to heare Reply'd vvith threats I le make you to obey Whereat the boye did flie away for feare To Lycias eyes where safe intrench'd he lay Then Iove he scorn'd and darde him to his face For novv more safe than in the heavens he dwell'd Nor could Ioves wrath doe vvrong to such a place Where grace and honour have their kingdome helde Thus in the pride and beautie of her eyes The seelie boye the greatest god defies Sonnet XIIII My love lay sleeping where birdes musicke made Shutting her eies disdainfull of the light The heat was great but greater vvas the shade Which her defended from his burning sight This Cupid savv and came a kisse to take Sucking svveet Nectar from her sugred breath She felt the touch and blusht and did avvake Seeing t' was love which she did thinke was death She cut his vvinges and caused him to stay Making a vovve hee should not thence depart Vnlesse to her the vvanton boy could pay The truest kindest and most loving heart His feathers still she used for a fanne Till by exchange my heart his feathers vvan Sonnet XV. I stood amaz'd and sawe my Licia shine Fairer then Phoebus in his brightest pride Set foorth in colours by a hand divine Where naught was wanting but a soule to guide It was a picture that I could descrye Yet made with arte so as it seem'd to live Surpassing faire and yet it had no eye Whereof my senses could no reason give With that the Painter bidde me not to muse Her eyes are shut but I deserve no blame For if she saw in faith it could not chuse But that the worke had wholly beene a flame Then burne me sweete with brightnesse of your eyes That Phaenix like from thence I may arise Sonnet XVI Graunt fayrest kind a kisse unto thy friend A blush replyde and yet a kisse I had It is not heaven that can such nectar send Whereat my senses all amaz'd were glad This done she fled as one that was afrayde And I desyr'd to kisse by kissing more My love she frown'd and I my kissing stayde Yet wisht to kisse her as I did before Then as the vine the propping elme doeth claspe Lothe to depart till both together dye So folde me sweete untill my latest gaspe That in my armes to death I kist may lye Thus whilest I live for kisses I must call Still kisse me sweete or kisse me not at all Sonnet XVII As are the sandes faire Licia on the shore Or colourd floures garlands of the spring Or as the frosts not seene nor felt before Or as the fruites that Autume foorth doth bring As twinckling starres the tinsell of the night Or as the fish that gallope in the seas As aires each part that still escapes our sight So are my sighes controllers of my ease Yet these are such as needes must have an end For things finite none els hath nature done Onlie the sighes vvhich from my heart I send Will never cease but where they first begunne Accept them sweet as incense due to thee For you immottall made them so to be Sonnet XVIII I sweare faire Licia still for to be thine By heart by eies by what I held most deare Thou checkt mine oath and said these were not mine And that I had no right by them to sweare Then by my sighes my passions and my teares My vowes my prayers my sorrowe and my love My gtiefe my joy my hope and hopeles feares My heart is thine and never shall remoove These are not thine though sent unto thy viewe All els I graunt by right they are thine owne Let these suffice that what I sweare is true And more than this if that it could be known So shall all these though troubles ease my griefe If that they serve to worke in thee beliefe Sonnet XIX That tyme faire Licia when I stole a kisse From of those lippes where Cupid lovelie laide I quakt for colde and found the cause was this My life which lov'd for love behind me staid I sent my heart my life for to recall But that was held not able to returne And both detain'd as captives were in thrall And judg'd by her that both by sighes should burne Faire burne them both for that they were so bolde But let the altar be within thy heart And I shall live because my lyfe you holde You that give lyfe to everie living part A flame I tooke when as I stole the kisse Take you my lyfe yet can I live with this Sonnet XX. First did I feare when first my love began Possest in fittes by watchfull jealousie I sought to keepe what I by favour wanne And brookt no partner in my love to be But Tyrant sicknesse fedde upon my love And spred his ensignes dy'd with colour white Then was suspition glad for to remoove And loving much did feare to loose her quite Erect faire sweet the collours thou didst weare Dislodge thy griefes the shortners of content For now of lyfe not love is all my feare Least lyfe and love be both together spent Live but faire love and banish thy disease And love kind heart both when and whom thou please Sonnet XXI Lycia my love was sitting in a grove Tuning her smiles unto the chirping songs But straight she spy'd where two together strove Ech one complaining of the others wrongs Cupid did crie lamenting of the harme Ioves messenger thou wrong'st me too too farre Vse thou thy rodde relye upon thy charme Thinke not by speach my force thou canst debatre A rodde syrbâ—y were fitter for a childe My weapons oft and tongue and minde you tooke And in my wrong at my distresse thou smil'de And scorn'd to grace me with a loving looke Speake you sweet love for you did
all the wrong That broke his arrowes and did binde his tong Sonnet XXII I might have dyed before my lyfe begunne When as my father for his countries good The Persians favour and the Sophy vvonne But yet with daunger of his dearest blood Thy father sweet whome daunger did beset Escaped all and for no other end But onely this that you he might beget Whom heavens decreed into the world to send Then father thanke thy daughter for thy lvfe And Neptune praise that yeelded so to thee To calme the tempest when the stonnes were ryfe And that thy daughter should a Venus be I call thee Veâ—â—e sweet but be not wroth Thou art more chast yet seas did favour both Sonnet XXIII My love was maskt and armed with a fanne To see the Sunne so carelesse of his light Which stood and gaz'd and gazing waxed wanne To see a starre himselfe that was more bright Some did surmize she hidde her from the sunne Of whome in pride she scorn'd for to be kist Or fear'd the harme by him to others done But these the reason of this woonder mist Nor durst the Sunne if that her face were bare In greatest pride presume to take a kisse But she more kinde did shew she had more care Then with her eyes eclypse him of his blisse Vnmaske you sweet and spare not dimme the sunne Your light 's ynough although that his were done Sonnet XXIIII When as my love lay sicklie in her bedde Pale death did poste in hope to have a praie But she so spotlesse made him that he fledde Vnmeet to die he cry'd and could not staie Backe he retyr'd and thus the heavens he told All thinges that are are subject unto me Both townes and men and what the world doth hold But let faire Licia still immortall be The heauens did graunt a goddesse she was made Immortall faire unfit to suffer chaung So now she lives and never more shall fade In earth a goddesse what can be more strange Then will I hope a goddesse and so neare She cannot chuse my sighes and praiers but heare Sonnet XXV Seven are the lights that wander in the skies And at these seven I wonder in my love To see the Moone how pale she doeth arise Standing amaz'd as though she durst not move So is my sweet much paler than the snowe Constant her lookes those lookes that cannot change Mercurie the next a god sweet tong'd we know But her sweet voice doth woonders speake more strange The rising Sunne doeth boast him of his pride And yet my love is farre more faire than he The warlike Mars can weildles weapons guide But yet that god is farre more weake than she The lovelie Venus seemeth to be faire But at her best my love is farre more bright Saturne for age with groans doth dimme the aire Whereas my love with smiles doth give it light Gaze at her browes where heaven ingrafted is Then sigh and sweare there is no heaven but this Sonnet XXVI I live sweete love whereas the gentle winde Murmures with sport in midst of thickest bowes Where loving Wood-bine doth the Harbour binde And chirping birdes doe eccho foorth my vowes Where strongest elme can scarce support the vine And sweetest flowres enameld have the ground Where Muses dwell and yet hereat repine That on the earth so rare a place was found But windes delight I wish to be content I praise the Wood-bine but I take no joye I moane the birdes that musicke thus have spent As for the rest they breede but mine annoye Live thou fayre Licia in this place alone Then shall I joye though all of these were gone Sonnet XXVII The Chrystal streames wherein my love did swimme Melted in teares as partners of my woe Her shine was such as did the fountaine dimme The pearlike fountaine whiter than the snowe Then lyke perfume resolved with a heate The fountaine smoak'd as if it thought to burne A woonder strange to see the colde so great And yet the fountaine into smoake to turne I searcht the cause and found it to be this She toucht the water and it burnt with love Now by her meanes it purchast hath that blisse Which all diseases quicklie can remoove Then if by you these streames thus blessed be Sweet graunt me love and be not woorse to me Sonnet XXVIII In tyme the strong and statelie torrets fall In tyme the Rose and silver Lillies die In tyme the Monarchs captives are and thrall In tyme the sea and rivers are made drie The hardest flint in tyme doth melt asunder Still living fame in tyme doth fade away The mountaines proud we see in tyme come under And earth for age we see in tyme decay The sunne in tyme forgets for to retire From out the east where he was woont to rise The basest thoughtes we see in time aspire And greedie minds in tyme do wealth dispise Thus all sweet faire in tyme must have an end Except thy beautie vertues and thy friend Sonnet XXIX Why dy'd I not when as I last did sleepe O sleepe too short that shadowed foorth my deare Heavens heare my prayers nor thus me waking keepe For this were heaven if thus I sleeping weare For in that darke there shone a Princely light Two milke-white hilles both full of Nectar sweete Her Ebon thighes the wonder of my sight Where all my senses with their objectes meete I passe those sportes in secret that are best Wherein my thoughtes did seeme alive to be We both did strive and wearie both did rest I kist her still and still she kissed me Heavens let me sleepe and shewes my senses feede Or let me wake and happie be indeede Sonnet XXI When as my Lycia sayled in the seas Viewing with pride god Neptunes stately crowne A calme she made and brought the merchant ease The strome she stayed and checkt him with a frowne Love at the stearne sate smiling and did sing To see howe seas had learnd for to obey And balles of fire into the waves did fling And still the boy full wanton thus did say Both poles we burnt whereon the world doeth turne The rownd of heaven from earth unto the skies And nowe the seas we both intend to burne I with my bowe and Licia with her eyes Then since thy force heavens earth nor seas can move I conquer'd yeeld and doe confesse I love Sonnet XXXI When as her lute is tuned to her voyce The aire growes proude for honour of that sound And rockes doe leape to shewe howe they rejoyce That in the earth such Musicke should be found When as her haire more worth more pale then golde Like silver threed lies waffting in the ayre Diana like she lookes but yet more bolde Cruell in chase more chaste and yet more fayre When as she smyles the cloudes for envie breakes She Iove in pride encounters with a checke The Sunne doeth shine for joye when as she speakes Thus heaven and earth doe homage at her becke Yet all these
we part thy boate must suffer losse Sonnet XLIII Are those two starres her eyes my lifes light gone By which my soule was freed from all darke And am I left distres'd to live alone Where none my teares and mournefull tale shall marke Ah Sunne why shine thy lookes thy lookes like gold When horseman brave thou risest in the East Ah Cynthia pale to whome my griefes I told Why doe you both rejoyce both man and beast And I alone alone that darke possesse By Licias absence brighter then the Sunne Whose smyling light did ease my sadde distresse And broke the clowdes when teares like rayne begun Heavens graunt that light and so me waking keepe Or shut my eyes and rocke me fast a-sleepe Sonnet XLIIII Cruell fayre Love I justly do complaine Of too much rigour and thy heart unkind That for mine eyes thou hast my bodie staine And would not graunt that I should favour find I look'd fayre Love and you my love lookt fayre I sigh'd for love and you for sport did smyle Your smyles were such as did perfume the ayre And this perfumed did my heart beguyle Thus I confesse the fault was in mine eyes Begun with sighes and ended with a flame I for your love did all the world despise And in these poems honour'd have your name Then let your love so with my fault dispense That all my parts feele not mine eyes offense Sonnet XLV There shone a Comet and it was full west my thoughts presaged what it did portend I found it threatned to my heart unrest And might in tyme my joyes and comfort end I further sought and found it was a Sunne Which day nor night did never use to set It constant stood when heavens did restlesse run And did their vertues and their forces let The world did muse and wonder what it meant A Sunne to shine and in the west to rise To search the trueth I strength and spirits spent At length I found it was my Licias eyes Now never after soule shall live in darke That hath the hap this westerne Sunne to marke Sonnet XLVI If he be dead in whome no hart remaines Or livelesse be in whome no lyse is found If he doe pyne that never comfort gaines And be distrest that hath his deadlie wound Then must I dye whose heart els where is clad And livelesse passe the greedie wormes to feed Then must I pine that never comfort had And be distrest whose wound with teares doth bleed Which if I doe why doe I not waxe cold Why rest I not lyke one that wants a hart Why moove I still lyke him that lyfe doth hold And sense enjoy both of my joy and sinart Lyke Nyobe Queene which made a stone did weepe Licia my heart dead and alive doth keepe Sonnet XLVII Lyke Memnons rocke toucht with the rising Sunne Which yeelds a sownd and ecchoes foorth a voice But when its ' drownde in westerne seas is dunne And drousie lyke leaves off to make a noice So I my love inlightned with your shyne A Poets skill within my soule I shroud Not rude lyke that which finer wittes declyne But such as Muses to the best allowde But when your figure and your shape is gone I speechlesse am lyke as I was before Or if I write my verse is fill'd with moane and blurd with teares by falling in such store Then muse not Licia if my Muse be slacke For when I wrote I did thy beautie lacke Sonnet XLVIII I saw sweet Licia when the spydar ranne Within your house to weave a woorthlesse web You present were and feard her with your fanne So that amazed speedilie she fled She in your house such sweete perfumes did smell And heard the Muses with their notes refin'd Thus fill'd with envie could no longer dwell But straight return'd and at your house repin'd Then tell me spidar why of late I sawe Thee loose thy poison and thy bowels gone Did these enchaunt and keepe thy limmes in awe And made thy forces to be small or none No. no thou didst by chaunce my Licia fee Who for her looke Minerva seem'd to thee Sonnet XLIX If that I dye fayre Lycia with disdaine Or hartlesse live surprised with thy wrong Then heavens and earth shall accent both my paine And curse the time so cruell and so long If you be kinde my Queene as you are fayre And ayde my thoughtes that still for conquest strive Then will I sing and never more dispayre And praise your kindnesse whylst I am alive Till then I pay the tribute of my teares To moove thy mercie and thy constant trueth Respect fayre love howe these with sorrowe weares The truest heart unlesse it finde some ruthe Then grace me sweet and with thy favour rayse me So shall I live and all the world shall praise thee Sonnet L. A Licia sigh and say thou art my owne Nay be my owne as you full oft have sayd So shall your trueth unto the world be knowne And I resolv'd where now I am afrayd And if my tongue aeternize can your prayse Or silly speech increase your worthy fame If ought I can to heaven your worth can rayse The age to come shall wonder at the same In this respect your love sweete love I told My faith and trueth I vow'd should be for ever You were the cause if that I was too bold Then pardon this my fault or love me never But if you frowne I wish that none beleeve me For slayne with sighes I le dye before I greeve thee Sonnet LI. When first the Sunne whome all my senses serve Began to shine upon this earthly round The heav'ns for her all graces did reserve That Pandor-like with all she might abound Apollo plac'd his brightnesse in her eyes His skill presaging and his musicke sweete Mars gave his force all force she now defyes Venus her smyles where with she Mars did meete Python a voyce Dyana made her chaste Ceres gave plentie Cupid lent his bowe Thetis his feete there Pallas wisdome plac't With these she Queene-like kept a world in awe Yet all these honours deemed are but pelfe For she is much more worthie of her selfe Sonnet LII O sugred talke where with my thoughtes doe live O browes loves Trophee and my senses shine O charming smyles that death or life can give O heavenly kisses from a mouth devine O wreaths too strong and tramels made of hayre O pearles inclosed in an Ebon pale O Rose and Lillyes in a field most fayre Where modest whyte doth make the red seeme pale O voyce whose accents live within my heart O heavenly hand that more then Atlas holds O sighes perfum'd that can release my smart O happy they whome in her armes she folds Nowe if you aske where dwelleth all this blisse Seeke out my love and she will shew you this AN ODE LOVE I repent me that I thought My sighes and languish dearely bought For sighes and languish both did prove That he that languisht sight for love
Cruell rigour foe to state Lookes disdainfull fraught with hate I did blame but had no cause Love hath eyes but hath no lawes She was sadde and could not chuse To see me sigh and sitt and muse We both did love and both did doubt Least any should our love finde out Our heartes did speake by signes most hidden This meanes was left all els forbidden I did frowne her love to trye She did sigh and straight did crye Both of us did signes beleeve Yet either grieved friend to greeve I did looke and then did smyle She left sighing all that whyle Both were glad to see that change Things in love that are not strange Suspicion foolish foe to reason Caus'd me seeke to finde some treason I did court another Dame False in love it is a shame She was sorrie this to vewe Thinking faith was prov'd untrewe Then she swore she would not love One whome false she once did prove I did vowe I never ment From promise matle for to relent The more I said the worse she thought My othes and vowes were dem'd as nought False she sayde howe can it be To court another yet love me Crownes and Love no partners brooke If she be lyk'd I am forsooke Farewell false and love her still Your chaunce was good but mine was ill No harme to you but this I crave That your newe love may you desave And jeast with you as you have donne For light 's the love that 's quickely wonne Kinde and fayre-sweete once beleeve me Ieast I did but not to greeve thee Court I did but did not love All my speach was you to prove Wordes and sighes and what I spent In shewe to her to you were ment Fond I was your love to crosse Ieasting love oft brings this losse Forget this fault and love your frend Which vowes his trueth unto the end Content she sayd if this you keepe Thus both did kisse and both did weepe For women long they can not chyde As I by proofe in this have tryde A dialogue betwixt two Sea-nymphes DORIS and GALATEA concerning 〈◊〉 briefely translated out of Lucian THE Sea Nymphes late did play them on the shore And smyl'd to see such sport was new begunne A strife in love the like not heard before Two Nymphes contend which had the conquest wonne Doris the fayre with Galate did chyd She lyk't her choyce and to her taunts replyd Doris Thy love fayre Nymph that courts thee on this plaine As shepheards say and all the world can tell Is that foule rude Sicilian Cyclop-swayne A shame sweete Nymph that he with thee should mell Galatea Smyle not fayre Doris though he foule doe seeme Let passe thy wordes that savour of disgrace He 's worth my love and so I him esteeme Renownd by birth and comon of Neptunes race Neptune that doth the glassye Ocean tame Neptune by birth from mighty Iove which came Doris I grauntan honour to be Neptunes chyld A grace to be so neere with Iove allyde But yet sweete Nymph with this be not beguyld Where natures graces are by lookes descryde So foule so rough so ugglye like a Clowne And worse then this a Monster with one eye Foule is not graced though it weare a Crowne But fayre is Bewtie none can that denye Galatea Nor is he foule or shapelesse as you say Or worse for that he clownish seem's to be Rough Satyr-like the better he will play And manly lookes the fitter are for me His frowning smyles are graced by his beard His eye-light Sunne-like shrowded is in one This me contents and others makes afeard He sees ynough and therefore wanteth none Doris Nay then I see sweete Nimph thou art in love And loving doates and doating doest commend Foule to be fayre this oft doe lovers proove I wish him fayrer or thy love an end Galatea Doris I love not yet I hardly beare Disgracefull tearms which you have spoke in scorne You are not lov'd and that 's the cause I feare For why my love of Iove him selfe was borne Feeding his sheepe of late amidst this plaine When as we Nymphes did sport us on this shore He skorn'd you all my love for to obtaine That greev'd your hearts I knew as much before Nay smyle not Nymphes the trueth I onely tell 〈…〉 that others should excell Doris Shoud I envie that blinde did you that spite Or that your shape doeth pleease so foule a groome The shepheard thought of milke you look'd so white The downe did erre and foolish was his doome Your looke was pale and so his stomach fed But farre from faire where white doth want his red Galatea Though pale my looke yet he my love did crave And lovelie you unlyk'd unlov'd I view It 's better farre one base than none to have Your faire is foule to whome there 's none will sew My love doth tune his love unto his harpe His shape is rude but yet his witt is sharpe Doris Leave off sweet Nymph to grace a woorthlesse clowne He itch'd with love and then did sing or say The noise was such as all the Nymphes did frowne And well suspected that some Asse did bray The woods did chyde to heare this uglie sound The prating Eccho scorn'd for to repeate This grislie voice did feare the hollow ground Whilst artlesse fingers did his harpstrings beat Two Bear-whelps in his armes this monster bore With these new puppies did this wanton play Their skinnes was rough but yet your loves was more He fouler was and farre more fierce than they I cannot chuse 〈…〉 Galatia Scorne not my Iove it can be knowne That you have one that 's better of your owne Doris I have no love 〈◊〉 if I had 〈…〉 Yet 〈◊〉 have 〈◊〉 by 〈◊〉 as well might speed But him to love the shame of all the coast So uglie foule as yet I have no need Now thus we learne what 〈◊〉 love can doe To thinke him 〈◊〉 that 's and 〈◊〉 to To heare this talke I sate 〈◊〉 an oake And mark'd their wordes to pend them as they spoke AD LECTOREM DISTICHON cujusdam de Amore. Lasci viquaeres fuerit cur carminis autor Carmine laselvus mente pudicus erat A LOVERS MAZE TReweare my thoughts my thoughts that are untrue Blinde are my eies my eyes that are not blinde New is my love my love that is not nowe Kind is that faire that faire that is not kinde Thus eyes and thoughts that fairest faire my love Blind and untrue unkind unconstant prove True are my thoughts because they never flitte Vntrew my thoughtes because they me betraide Blinde are my eyes because in cloudes I sitte Not blinde my eyes because I lookes obeyed Thus eyes and thoughtes my dearest faire may vewe In sight in love nor blinde nor yet untrew Newe is my love because it never dies Olde is my love because it ever lives Kinde is that faire because it hate denyes Vnkinde that faire because no hope it gives Thus new my love and still
this Or loth to part from that she lik't so well Did play false play and gave me not the kisse Yet my loves kindnesse could not chuse to tell Then blame me not that kissing sigh'd and swore I kist but her whome you had kist before 5 Sweete love me more and blame me not sweet love I kist those lippes yet harmlesle I doe vowe Scarse would my lippes from off those lippes remoove For still me thought sweet fayre I kissed you And thus kinde love the summe of all my blisse Was both begunne and ended in a kisse 6 Then send me moe but send them by your frend Kisse none but her nor her nor none at all Beware by whome such treasures you doe send I must them loose except I for them call Yet love me deare and still still kissing be Both like and love but none sweete love but me ELEGIE III. 1 If sadde complaint would shewe a lovers payne Or teares expresle the torments of my hart If melting sighes would ruth and pitty gaine Or true Laments but case a lovers smart 2 Then should my plaints the thunders noyse surmount And teares like seas should flowe from out my eyes Then sighes like ayre should farre exceede all count And true laments with sorrow dimme the skyes 3 But plaintes and teares laments and sighes I spend Yet greater torments doe my heart destroy I could all these from out my heart still send If after these I might my love enjoy 4 But heavens conspyre and heavens I must obey That seeking love I still must want my ease For greatest joyes are temperd with delay Things soone obtain'd do least of all us please 5 My thoughtes repyne and thinke the time too long My love impatient wisheth to obtaine I blame the heavens that do me all this wrong To make me lov'd and will not ease my payne 6 No payne like this to love and not enjoye No griefe like this to mourne and not be heard No time so long as that which breed's annoy No hell like this to love and be deferd 7 But heaven shall stand and earth inconstant flye The Sunne shall freese and Ice inconstant burne The mountaines flowe and all the earth be drye Ear time shall force my loving thoughtes to turne 8 Doe you resolve sweete love to doe the same Say that you doe and seale it with a kisse Then shall our truthes the heav'ns unkindnesse blame That can not hurt yet shewes their spyte in this 9 The sillye prentice bound for many yeeres Doeth hope that time his service will release The towne besieg'd that lives in midst of feares Doeth hope in time the cruell warres will cease 10 The toyling plough-man sings in hope to reape The tossed barke expecteth for a shore The boy at schoole to be at play doeth leape And straight forget's the feare he had before 11 If these by hope doe joye in their distresse And constant are in hope to conquer tyme. Then let not hope in us sweete friend be lesse And cause our love to wither in the Pryme Let us conspyre and time will have an end So both of us in time shall have a frend FINIS THE RISING TO THE CROWNE of RICHARD the third VVritten by him selfe THE RISING TO the Crovvne of RICHARD the third Written by him selfe THE Stage is set for Stately matter fitte Three partes are past which Prince-like acted were To play the fourth requires a Kingly witte Els shall my muse their muses not come nere Sorrow sit downe and helpe my muse to sing For weepe he may not that was cal'da King Shores wife a subject though a Princesse mate Had little cause her fortune to lament Her birth was meane and yet she liv'd with State The King was dead before her honour went Shores wife might fall and none can justly wonder To see her fall that useth to lye under Rosamond was fayre and farre more fayre then she Her fall was great and but a womans fall Tryfles are these compare them but with me My fortunes farre were higher then they all I left this land possest with Civill strife And lost a Crowne mine honour and my life Elstred I pitie for she was a Queene But for my selfe to sigh I sorrow want Her fall was great but greater falles have beene Some falles they have that use the Court to haunt A toye did happen and this Queene dismayd But yet I see not why she was afrayd Fortune and I for so the match began Two games we play'd at tennyse for a Crowne I play'd right well and so the first I wan She skorn'd the losse whereat she straight did frowne We play'd againe and then I caught my fall England the Court and Richard was the ball Nor weepe I nowe as children that have lost But smyle to see the Poets of this age Like silly boates in shallow rivers tost Loosing their paynes and lacking still their wage To write of women and of womens falles Who are too light for to be fortunes balles A King I was and Richard was my name Borne to a Crowne when first my life began My thoughtes ambitious venterd for the same And from my nephewes I the kingdom wan Nor doe I thinke that this my honour stayn'd A Crowne I sought and I a kingdome gayn'd Tyme-tyrant fate did fitte me for a Crowne My fathers fall did teach me to aspire He meant by force his brother to put downe That so himselfe might hap to rise the higher And what he lost by fortune I have wonne A Duke the father yet a king the sonne My father Richard duke of Yorke was call'd Three sonnes he had all matchlesse at that tyme I Richard yongest to them both was thrall'd Yet two of us unto the crowne did clyme Edward and I this realme as kinges did holde But George of Clarence could not though he would Sad Muse set downe in tearmes not heard before My sable fortune and my mournfull tale Say what thou canst and wish thou could say more My blisse was great but greater was my bale I rose with speed and so did fall as fast Great was my glorie but it would not last My brother George did plot for to be king Sparkes of ambition did possesse us all His thoughtes were wise but did no profite bring I fear'd his rising and did make him fall My reaching braine did dout what might ensew I scorn'd his lyfe and so he found it trew My brother George men say was slaine by me A brothers part to give his brother wine And for a crowne I would his butcher be For crownes with blood the brighter they will shine To gaine a kingdome still it me behoov'd That all my lettes full soundlie were remoov'd Henrie the sixt depriued of his crowne Fame doeth report I put him to the death Thus fottune smyl'd though after she did frowne A daggers stab men say did stop his breath I carelesse was both how and who were slaine So that thereby a kingdome I could gaine