University of Virginia Library

MISCELLANEA.

[13]
Ad hoc creaturæ destinatæ sunt, vt in eis glorificetur Creator

This sonnet is printed at the end of Lepanto:—

The azured vault, the christall circles bright
The gleaming firie torches poudered thair
The changing rounde, the shining beamie light
The sadd and bearded fires, the monsters faire
The prodiges appearing in the aire
The rearding thunders and the blustering windes
The foules in hewe, in shape and nature rare
The prettie notts that wing'd musiciens findes
In earthe the sauourie flowres, the metall'd mindes
The wholesome herbes, the hautie pleasant trees
The siluer streames, the beasts of sundrie kindes
The bounded roares, and fishes of the seas
All these for teaching man the Lord did frame
To honoure him whose glorie shines in them.

14
A sonnet on Mr Pa. Adamsons paraphrase of Job

In wandring wealth through burbling brookes and bewes
Of tripping troupes and flocks on fertill grounde
In cattell great of sundrie shapes and hewes
With houues all whole, or in a parted rounde
In fields fullfild with cornes by shearers bounde
In heapes of golde, and ritches in all wayes
As Job excelled all others might be founde
Of Monarchs greate or Princes in his dayes
So this translatour merites no lesse praise
For gifts of sprit, then he for gifts of geare
And God in grace hath giuen suche conterpaise
As his translation to the worke is peere
God did his gifts in him so wiselie mell
Whose heauenlie wealth Jobs earthlie wealth doth tell.

15
A sonnet on Ticho Brahe

16
A sonnet on Du Bartas

SONNET

[Since ye immortall sisters nine hes left]

Since ye immortall sisters nine hes left
All other countries lying farre or nere:
To follovv him vvho from them all you reft,
And novv hes causde your residence be here
VVho though a straunger yet he lovde so dere
This Realme and me, so as he spoilde his avvne,
And all the brookes & banks, & fountains clere
That be therein of you as he hath shavvne
in this his vvork: then let your breath be blavvne,
In recompence of this his vvilling minde
On me: that sine may vvith my pen bee dravvne
His praise: for though himselfe be not inclynde
Nor preaseth but to touch the Laurer tre:
Yet vvell he merits crovvnd thervvith to be.

17
A Sonnet on Mr W. Fullers translation of Petrarchs triumphe of loue

We find by proofe that into euerie age
In Phœbus art sume glistring starre did shine
Who worthie schollers to the Muses sage
Fullfil'd there countries with there workes diuine
So Homere was a sounding trumpett fine
Amongst the Greeks into his learned dayes
So Virgill was amongst the Romanes sine
A spirit sublimed, a piller of there praise
So loftie Petrarch his renoume did blaze
In toungue Italique in a sugred stile
And to the circled skies his name did raise
For he by poëms that he did compile
In triumphe ledde loue, chastnes, deathe, and fame
Bot thou triumphes ouer Petrarchs propre name.

18
An Epitaphe on Sr Philip Sidney

Thou mightie Mars the God of souldiours braue
And thou Minerue that does in witt excell
And thou Apollo that does knowledge haue
Of euerie art that from Parnassus fell
With all the Sisters that theron doe dwell
Lament for him who dewlie seru'd yow all
Whome in, yow wiselie all your arts did mell
Bewaile I saye his vnexspected fall
I neede not in remembrance for to call
His youth, his race, the houpe hade of him aye
Since that in him doeth cruell deathe appall
Both manhoode, witt, and learning euerie waye
Now in the bed of honour doeth he rest
And euermore of him shall liue the best.

Sonnet to the authoure.

We finde by prwif that into euerie aige
In phœbus art sum glistring starr did shyne,
Who, worthye Scollaris to the muses saige,
Fulfild thair countreis with thair works dewyne:
So Homer was a sounding trumpet fyne
Amangst the Greikis into his learned dayes;
So Virgill was amongst the Romans syne
A spreit sublimed, a pillar of thair prayse;
So loftye Petrark his renoun did blayse
In tounge Italique in a sugred style,
and to the circled skyes his name did rayse;
For he by poems that he did compyle
Led in Triumphe lowe, chaistnes, death, and fame;
bot thow triumphs ouer PETRARCHS propper name.

IN PHILIPPI SIDNÆI interitum, Illustrissimi Scotorum Regis Carmen.

Thou mighty Mars the Lord of Souldiers brave,
And thou, Minerve, that dois in wit excell,
And thou Apollo who dois knowledge have,
Of euery art that from Parnassus fell
With all your Sisters that thaireon do dwell,
Lament for him, who duelie serv'd you all
Whome in you wisely all your arts did mell,
Bewaile (I say) his inexspected fall,
I neede not in remembrance for to call
His race, his youth, the hope had of him ay
Since that in him doth cruell death appall
Both manhood, wit, and learning euery way,
Bot yet he doth in bed of honor rest,
And euermore of him shall liue the best.

19
An epitaphe on John Shaw

A vertuous life procures a happie deathe
And raires to loftie skies there noble name
Then blest is he who looseth thus his breathe
Though to his friends it be a griefe the same
This may be saide of thy immortall fame
Who here reposes closed in honours laire
For as of trewe and noble race thou came
So honestie and trueth was all thy caire
Thy kinn was honoured by thy vertues raire
Thy place of creditt did thy friends defend.
Then noble mindes aspire and doe not spaire
With such a life to conquise such an end
Bot here my inward greefe does make me staye
I minde with deeds, and not with wordes to paye.

20
Votum

Thy kindenes kithed in loosing life for me
My kindnesse on thy friends I vtter shall
My perrill kindled courage into the
Mine shall reuenge thy saikles famous fall
Thy constant seruice euer shall remaine
As freshe with me as if thou liued againe.

21
A Sonnet to Chanceller Maitlane:

Vigiliæ nostræ

If he who valliant euen within the space
That Titan six tymes twise his course does end
Did conquise olde Dame Rheas fruictfull face
And did his raigne from pole to pole extend
Hade thought him happier if that greeke hade penn'd
His worthie praise who traced the Troiane sacke
Then all his actes that forth his fame did send
Or his triumphant trophees might him make.
Then what am I who on Pegasian backe
Does flee amongs the Nymphes immortall faire
For thou ô Maitland does occasion take
Euen by my verse to spreade my name allwhere
For what in barbarous leide I blocke and frames
Thou learnedlie in Mineru's tongue proclames.

22
An epitaphe on Montgomrie

What drousie sleepe doth syle your eyes allace
Ye sacred brethren of Castalian band
And shall the prince of Poëts in our land
Goe thus to graue vnmurned in anie cace
No; whett your pens ye imps of heauenlie grace
And toone me wp your sweete resounding strings
And mounte him so on your immortall wings
That euer he may liue in euerie place
Remember on Montgomries flowand grace
His suggred stile his weightie words diuine
And how he made the sacred Sisters nine
There montaine quitte to followe on his trace
Though to his buriall was refused the bell
The bell of fame, shall aye his praises knell.

23
A Sonnet on the moneth of May

Haill mirthfull May the moneth full of ioye
Haill mother milde of hartsume herbes and floures
Haill fostrer faire of euerie sporte and toye
And of Auroras dewis and summer shoures
Haill friend to Phœbus and his glancing houres
Haill sister scheine to Nature breeding all
Who by the raine that cloudie skies out pouris
And Titans heate, reformes the faided fall
In woefull winter by the frostie gall
Of sadd Saturnus tirrar of the trees
And now by Natures might and thine they shall
Be florish'd faire with colours that agrees
Then lett ws all be gladd to honour the
As in olde tymes was euer wonte to be.

24
An ænigme of sleepe

Life is my selfe, I keepe the life of all
Without my helpe all liuing things they die
Small, greate, poore, ritche, obeye vnto my call
Feirce lions, foules, and whaills into the sie
With meete and drinke the hungrie I supplie
Deade drunken als I quicken newe againe
Dearer to Kings, nor crownes and sceptours hie
Vnto the riche, nor all there wealth and gaine
I am not nyse, the poore I'le not disdaine
Poore wretches more then Kings may me command
Where I cumme in all senses man refraine
Softer nor silke, and sadder nor the sand
I hurte, I helpe, I slaye, and cuire the same
Sleepe, and aduise, and panse well what I am.

25
A sonnet when the King was surprised by the Earle Bothwell

A faschious fight does force my freest minde
Betwixt two valliant champions I persaue
The one trewe courage rightlie is defin'd
The other wisedome temperat and graue
Thy selfe vndanted showe quoth courage braue
Bot wisedome wishes for a while to staye
Quoth courage rather die then liue a slaue
Quoth wisedome true, if so should be for aye
Bot wracke the not vpon thy selfe I praye
Since keeping wp thy selfe bot for a space
On others sine thy courage kithe thou may
Quoth courage, lingring is a great disgrace
Of all these straits the best is out of doubte
That courage wise, and wisedome should be stoute.

Another on the same

26
A Sonnet painting out the perfect Poët:

This sonnet is alreadie printed and prefixed to the treatise of Scottish poësie:

A ripe ingine, a quicke and walkened witt
With summaire raisons suddainlie applied
For euerie purpose vsing raisons fitt
With skillfulnes where learning may be spied
With pitthie wordes for to expresse yow by it
His full intention in his propre leide
The propertie wherof well hes he tryit
With memorie to keepe what he doth reide
With skillfulnes and figures which proceede
From rhetorick, with euerlasting fame
With others wondering preassing with all speede
For to attaine to merite such a name
All these into the perfect Poëte be
Gods grante I may obtaine the laurell tre.

27
A Sonnet to the reader prefixed to the treatise of the arte of poesie:

This sonnet is prefixed to the treatise of Scottish poësie and is alreadie printed:—

Since for your sake I wrytte vpon your art
Apollo, Pan, and ye ô Muses nine
And thou ô Mercure for to helpe thy part
I the emplore since thou by thy ingine
Nixt after Pan hade founde the whissell, sine
Thou did perfect that, which he bot espied
And after that made Argos for to tine
Who keeped Io, all his windowes by it
Concurre ye Gods I can not be denied
Since of your art of poësie I writte
that birds will learne by teaching it is tried
Sic docens discam, if ye helpe to dicte
Then reader see of nature thou haue part
Sine lackes thou noght, bot here to reade the art.

28

[O mightie Gods since I with pen and poëts art]

30
A Sonett: on Sr William Alexanders harshe vearses after the Inglishe fasone

Hould hould your hand, hould, mercy, mercy, spare
Those sacred nine that nurst you many a yeare
Full oft alas with comfort and with care
Wee bath'd you in Castalias fountaine cleare
Then on our winges aloft wee did you beare
And set you on our stately forked hill
Where you our heaunly harmonyes did heare
The rockes resoundinge with there Echoes still
Although your neighbours haue conspir'd to spill
That art which did the Laurel crowne obtaine
And borowing from the raven there ragged quill
Bewray there harsh hard trotting tumbling wayne
Such hamringe hard the mettalls hard require
Our songs ar fil'd with smoothly flowing fire

31
A Sonet against the could that was in January 1616

How cruely these catiffs doe conspire
What loathsome loue breeds such a baleful band,
Betwixt the cancred Kinge of Creta land
That melancholy ould and angry syre
And him who wont to quench debaite and ire
Amongst the Romains when his ports were clos'd
But now his double face is still dispos'd
With Saturns helpe to freeze vs at the fire
The earth or'e-couered with a sheete of snow
Refuses foode to foule to bird and beast
The chillinge cold letts every thing to grow
And surfets cattil with a starving feast
Curst bee that loue and may't continue short
That kills all creaturs and doth spoile our sport.

32

[Not orientall Indus cristall streames]

33
Vpon occasion of some great disorders in Scotland.

O cruell constellation that conspird
Before my birth my bale sa sharpe & saire
O miserable Mother that desir'd
The Midwife wise na paines on me to spaire
In vaine wase milke my meate a yeare & maire
In vaine therafter wase I speand alace
In vaine ye wise Pierides tooke a caire
To bring me brauely up in euerie cace
In vaine ye made me syne to take a place
Vpon that forked hill in honnour hie
In vaine descended I of Royal race
Which by succession made a King of me
All were but shawes Marcellus sure am I
Or Job whaise patience Sathan thinkes to try.

[In wandring wealth through bubbling brookes & bewes]

In wandring wealth through bubbling brookes & bewes
Of tripping troupes & flocks on fertill grounde
In cattell great of sindrie shapes & hewes
With hooffes all whole or in a parted rounde
In fields fulle filld with cornes by shearers bounde
In heapes of golde & ritches in all wayes
As Job excelld all others might be founde
Of Monarchs great or Princes in his dayes
So this translator merites no lesse praise
For gifts of sprite then he for gifts of geare
And God in grace hath giuen such conter[paise]
As his translation to the worke is peere
God did in him his gifts sa wyslie mell
Whos heauenly wealth Jobs earthlie wealth doeth tell.

34
An admonition to the Master poët to be warr of great bragging hereafter, lest he not onlie slander himselfe; bot also the whole professours of the art

35
Ex Lucano libro quinto

36
Song. the first verses that euer the King made.