University of Virginia Library

previous section The thre first bookes of Ouids De Tristibvs
next section

To his frendes that ware his Image ingraude.

Elegia. 6.

VVhat frende thou be that Image haue, in forme made like to mee,
No Garlands gaye wyth Iuye wrought, about his head let be.
These happye synes most comlye be, that pleasaunt Poets were,
My troublous time is farre vnfitte, the Lawrell crowne to beare.
And thou that beares about of mee, in ringe the picture prest,
Fayne yt these thinges were neuer spoke, althoughe thou knowes them best.
The countenance deare of mee, that am, in exile sent beholde,
The likenes of my louring lookes, which thou hast graude in goulde.
Whereon when thou shalt cast thine eyes, then haplye thou may say,
Howe farre from vs is Naso now, our fellowe sent away.
Thy loue I well alowe but yet, my verses print more plaine
My forme: which as they be, I bid, to reade do not disdayne.
My verse I saye that doth declare, howe men straung shapes did shade,
Unhappye worke whose maister fled, and left vnperfit made.
The same wyth heauy hande full sadde, in flaming fyre I thrust,
With much more of my greuous goods, when needes depart I must
[7]

And as they say that Thestias, did burne with fatall fire,
Her sonne: and sister kinder was, then mother moude wyth ire:
So I my bookes my bowels deare, which no desert did show,
To dye away with mee did then, in flashing flames bestowe.
Which eyther was because my muse, as hurtfull I did hate,
Or els for that my verse was rude, and not in perfit state.
Which as they be not quite extinct, but partlye yet appere,
In volumes mo then one I thincke, that then they written were.
So now I wishe them still remayne, none idle slouth that bee,
The reader to delight but may, remember him of mee.
But yet no man with pacient cares, to read them can abide,
Except he know that vncorrect, from me the same did slide.
That worke was pluckt away when halfe, he had his labour skant,
The trimming tricke that last should come, my wrytinges clearely want.
For painted prayse thy pardon craue, thy prayse shall wel suffice,
If thou that chaunce to reade this booke, my worke do not despise.
And here also sixe verses haue, which if thou thincke it best,
In formest front of that my booke, see that thou let them rest.
What man thou be these volumes touch, of father now bereft,
At lest wyse graunt within your house, a place for them be left.
And that thou should more fauor them, of him they were not sent,
In publike prease: but as it were, the maisters herse of rent.
If that vnlearned verse therefore, shal shew forth any cryme,
The maister would haue mended it, if he had longer time.
previous section The thre first bookes of Ouids De Tristibvs
next section