VII. YOU MEANER BEAUTIES.
[_]
This little Sonnet was written by Sir Henry Wotton
Knight, on that amiable Princess, Elizabeth daughter of
James I. and wife of the Elector Palatine, who was chosen
King of Bohemia, Sept. 5. 1619. The consequences of this fatal
election are well known: Sir Henry Wotton, who in that
and the following year was employed in several embassies in
Germany on behalf of this unfortunate lady, seems to have
had an uncommon attachment to her merit and fortunes, for
he gave away a jewel worth a thousand pounds, that was
presented to him by the Emperor, “because it came from an
enemy to his royal mistress the Queen of Bohemia.”
See Biog. Britan.
This song is printed from the Reliquiæ Wottonianæ
1651. with some corrections from an old MS. copy.
You meaner beauties of the night,
Which poorly satisfie our eies
More by your number, then your light;
You common people of the skies,
What are you when the Sun shall rise?
Ye violets that first appeare,
By your pure purple mantles known
Like the proud virgins of the yeare,
As if the Spring were all your own;
What are you when the Rose is blown?
Ye curious chaunters of the wood,
That warble forth dame Nature's layes,
Thinking your passions understood
By your weak accents: what's your praise,
When Philomell her voyce shall raise?
So when my mistris shal be seene
In sweetnesse of her looks and minde;
By virtue first, then choyce a queen;
Tell me, if she was not design'd
Th'eclypse and glory of her kind?
