University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Works of William Fowler

Secretary to Queen Anne, Wife of James VI. Edited with introduction, appendix, notes and glossary by Henry W. Meikle

expand section 
expand section 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
 LI. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
 LX. 
 LXI. 
 LXII. 
 LXIII. 
 LXIV. 
 LXV. 
 LXVI. 
 LXVII. 
 LXVIII. 
 LXIX. 
 LXX. 
 LXXI. 
 LXXII. 
 LXXIII. 
 LXXIV. 
 LXXV. 
expand section 
expand section 
OF DEATH
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 
expand section 


231

OF DEATH

[_]

From the Hawthornden manuscript.


233

I. ELEGIE.

From teares to teares I passs, and spend my lothsome dayes;
I find na confort for the greif my heavye hairt assayes.
Alas, to think vpon the pleasours I posest!
Alas, to think vpon the pains which reaves me off my rest!
My Ioy was in his spring, my harvest now is past,
and wintar cumis by sturdie storms to schak thame by hir blast.
And as I so the breir enviround with the rose,
as darkfull nights the brightest day by mystie cludds do close,
as feare dois fallow hope, so sadnes dois my Ioye,
and sall till that the sisters thrie to earth my corpss convoy.
then fairweill confort now! awant ȝe from my pains!
both counsell, reasoun, hope, fairwell! to greif I lose the vains!
so off my freinds lat none, lat none with me conferr
of vther purpose then of graves, of bluid, of death, & warr!
thair spechthe must be of sights, thair talk of fearfull ghosts,
or off the roring foming seis quhilk brekks vpon the coasts:
then tell they how thair wawes hes drowned many a schipp,
and how the wandring pyratt hes the marchand spoyld and swipt
with thundring schott and fyre, and so be thair report
of wichthes, warlowes, who at night to buryed banis resort:
In this be all thair cair, for reasoun wauld it so,
that thair regretts and talking be conformed to my woe.

234

II. SONETT.

My witts and thoughts togeather ar att stryfe,
and with myself this questioun I debaitt:
sen love and death hes vext my weryed lyfe,
quha off thir two more troubled hes my state?
for love by cairs my youtheid hes defaitt,
and maed me oft for death to call and crye,
preserving it before that rage and hate
by which my hairt in burning fyre did frye.
bot to my self agane I do replye,
that loue hes lost the starne off his Impyre,
this lothsome earth hir grace & glore heirbye,
and I my hope with my deserved hyre.
must I then Iudge? o strainge vnhappie cace!
yit more than love death hes me wrought disgrace.

235

III. SONETT. A DREAME.

Sche quhome I loued, quhase death is all my woe,
to me In sleip this night did hir adress,
with sugred speache, to move me to forgoe
and leave these sobbs which dois my ioyes suppresss.
“can these availl” (quod sche) with plesant Ire,
“can these availl to rander me my lyfe?
no! no! my deire, it is not my desyre;
blist is my state which is exeimd from stryfe;
I ioy my ioyes with the celestiall troupe:
within my grave then troubill me na more,
raise vpp thy spreits, and longer do not droupe;
thy faithfull hairt dois weill my death decore:
adieu, my loue! receave off me this kiss,
for faith nor love no gretar I culd wiss.”

236

IV. DIAL.

Thow Cruall death, thow noysome plage and pest,
quhilk with thy dairt my derest hairt hes slaine,
quhy spairs thow me quhase bodye is adrest
to tak thy straiks to frie me of my paine?
hir love with myne so coupled did remaine,
hir hairt with myne so hairtfully conIoynde,
as I do muse, quhat suld my death restraine?
Ansuer.
thought hairts wer one yet bodyis war disjoyn[de];
and thought that I the for a tyme hes spaird
to waist with woe thy ouercummed corpse,
ȝit att the lenght my sling sal be prepaird
to end thy lyfe, and mak the feill my force.
Quest.
come quiklye then. A. no. q. quhy? A. I will prolon[ge]
in woe thy lyfe to sing a suanlyk songe.

237

V. RENPONIT.

O thow myne hairt full fraughted with regrett,
Quhat can the lett to sunder not for woe?
thow mynde also, with crabed cairs befrett,
with pains oursett, canst thow hir death forgoe?
Ans.
No! suirlye no! hir curtesie dois crave
that I suld have hir lasting in my thought,
Quhome death hes brought to sone vnto hir grave,
and dois receave the Mould that nature wrought.
might mends be sought off the, o murdring death,
that hes in wreath the glore of earth defaist?
then thow in haist, thought waisted be my breath,
euen as thou heath demereit, suld be chaist
quhair I have plast a flood out from myne [ene]
to drowne the, death, that hes so cruell bene.

238

VI. [My cheare and mirth, my plesour is exyld.]

My cheare and mirth, my plesour is exyld;
by duyning thoughts I feill my hairte conseume;
my daisled eyis by sorrows ar oursyld;
my peace and rest euanishis lyke fume;
gif any Ioy to me I do assume,
the same dois comm by memorie of my greif.
off better state how can I weill presume,
sen cruell death hes wrought me this mischeif?
o foolish I! how fonde was my beleif,
quhen as I thought the graces of my dame
and heuinly port might served for releif,
and stop these straits quhair cruel death did ame!
bot now I see the errour of my mynde,
sen farest things to wrak ar maist inclynde.

239

VII. [That farest things to wrak ar maist inclynde.]

That ‘farest things to wrak ar maist inclynde,’
ways me! alas! that saying is to trew.
the farest work of nature in hir kynde
and womans glore is deid without reskew,
quhose heavye losss with teares I sal persew,
lamenting sare that vnexspected chance.
bot weill I know, bycaus the heavens did rew
that earth so long was honourd by hir glance,
inforced death to stryke hir with hir lance,
to spoyle the earth thair place for to decore.
O blissed luk! my spreit no mair in trance
nor into dumps contenew sal thairfore:
god hes her taine in mercye not in yre,
that vnto him my thoughts may all aspyre.

240

VIII COMPLAINT.

O mournfull muse, Melpomene, bewaill!
o mournfull muse, lament hir loss & death
with trikling teares! thought they not muchte prevaill
In this behalf agane to vitall breath
hir to restore quhome atropos hes kild,
and cutt the threid quhilk did hir lyfe prolong,
ȝit lat your nots with sorrow fully fild
at hir disease resound this woefull song.
Alas! I see the tennor of my muse
by spytfull death is forst to chainge his tone,
and leave these noats quhilk he was wont to vse
to sound hir praise, as he suld allwayes done.
O cursed death! quhy haist thow made such wrak?
o cursed death! quhy haist thow me off Ioy
depryved clene, quhy haist thow maid such sak
off hir quhase want dois plundge me In anoy?
Culd not hir sight thy mortall straiks restrain[e]?
culd not hir face thy deidlie dairt resist?
culd not hir gifts compeld the to refraine
from wonding hir? quhairto sal I insist
to curss or crye on thy vntymlye wound,
quhilk hes not spaird the floure off all her kynde?
o heaven! o earth! how am I tort[urd] and[OMITTED]
with hellysh pains Insetled in my [mynde]!

241

O eyne of myne, myne eyne, poure furth ȝour teares!
gusch furth in floods to waill my wrethched state!
bedew my cheiks in quhome no Ioy appeirs,
sen all my mirth hes ȝeild without debait
to vapourd sights! and thow, o atropos,
vnfreind to hir, and to to freind to me,
my lyflye threid with speid in sunder loss,
dissolve this corpss quhilk languish after thee!
Disdaning death, quhy hes thow stop thyne eares?
wilt thow not list to heare my piteous plaint?
can thow prolong the lyfe conseumd with cair[s]?
gud death, draw neir, resolud with quhole In[tent]
to slay the man quha is resolud to die,
and frie the wight from his renewing smart,
quhase opned breist sic stoggs dois crave off [the]
as may it pearce to mortefie his hairt.
Bot, sluggish death, thow schaws thy self so slo[w]
to further me in this my bent desyre,
as I suld prease to latt the world know
quhat furious rage hes sett my thoughts in fyre.
gif feare of god had not represt my will,
[in]to my bluid my hands I suld Imbrew,
[to] [se]ik baith end of lyfe and pains which still
[in]c[re]isis [?] sore, and hourlye dois renew.
Bot as I may so sall I dryve my daye[s],
such crosss to me the heavens hes assingd;
and as my mynde such plags and pangs ass[ayes],
so sall my corpss be vnto these resingd.
thought thow, my deire, heirby sall rype not fruit,
thought thow, my deire, exspect not such of me,
ȝit sall our love rest fixed in this ruit,
and all wayes budd in memorie of the.

242

Petrarcha laure did never so lament,
nor pyramus his precious thisbe waill,
Guiscardus death maid not the hand relent
of sigismund so much as ȝours dois quaill
[my] restles mynd, my loveing dame, my deir,
your death, my deir, bereavis me of my rest;
your death, my love, hes alterd all my cheire;
your death, my love, my ioy hes dispossest.
It sall not then without lamenting passs
vpon thy grave these verse I will erect:
she, while she liud, off all beloued was,
she, quhyle she liud, quhome al men did respect;
ȝit after death refloorish sall hir fame
althought hir corpss interred be in clay;
and I with sobbs the echo off hir name
sal still resond til death my lyfe assay.

243

IX. A FANTASIE.

Thus as I wrett, with full Intent to end
these doolfull songs which dois hir death deplore,
me thought I saw downe from the heavens discend
that peirles perle quhome I in hairt adore,
In courtlye grace, in semlye schaw & glore,
In heuinlye [fr]ame, and beautye without blame,
with all these g[i]fts which she posest before,
most lovingly[e] to call me be my name:
O Fouler! o immortall be thy fame!
Lat never dame thy honest suit disdaine;
thy machth[l]es faith of trewth deservs the same;
though thow my loue by death did not obtea[ne],
thow death hes kild; thy verse dois mak me liue,
and with thy name my fame sal ay reviue.”
Finis.