Loves martyr or, Rosalins complaint. Allegorically shadowing the truth of Loue, in the constant Fate of the Phoenix and Turtle. A Poeme enterlaced with much varietie and raritie; now first translated out of the uenerable Italian Torquato Caeliano, by Robert Chester. With the true legend of famous King Arthur, the last of the nine Worthies, being the first Essay of a new British Poet: collected out of diuerse Authenticall Records. To these are added some new compositions, of seuerall moderne Writers whose names are subscribed to their seuerall workes, upon the first Subiect: viz. the Phoenix and Turtle |
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141
Cantoes Uerbally written.
1. Pittie me that dies for thee.
Pittie my plainings thou true nurse of pittie,Me hath thy piercing lookes enioynd to sighing,
That cannot be redressed, for thy beautie
Dies my sad heart, sad heart that's drown'd with weeping:
For what so ere I thinke, or what I doe,
Thee with mine eyes, my thoughts, my heart, I woe.
2. My life you saue, if you I haue.
My eyes, my hand, my heart seeke to maintaineLife for thy loue, therefore be gracious,
You with your kindnesse haue my true heart slaine,
Saue my poore life, and be not tyrannous,
If any grace do in thy breast remaine,
You women haue bene counted amorous;
I pine in sadnesse, all proceeds from thee,
Haue me in liking through thy clemencie.
3. Do thou by me, as I by thee.
Do not exchange thy loue, lest in exchanging,Thou beare the burd'nous blot of foule disgrace,
By that bad fault are many faults containing,
Me still assuring nothing is so base,
As in the worlds eye alwayes to be ranging:
I sweare sweete Phœnix in this holy case,
By all the sacred reliques of true loue,
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4. Voutsafe to thinke how I do pine,
In louing thee that art not mine.
Voutsafe with splendor of thy gracious looke,
To grace my passions, passions still increasing:
Thinke with thy selfe how I thy absence brooke,
How day by day, my plaints are neuer ceasing,
I haue for thee all companies forsooke;
Do thou reioyce, and in reioycing say,
Pine nere so much Ile take thy griefe away.
To grace my passions, passions still increasing:
Thinke with thy selfe how I thy absence brooke,
How day by day, my plaints are neuer ceasing,
I haue for thee all companies forsooke;
Do thou reioyce, and in reioycing say,
Pine nere so much Ile take thy griefe away.
In that great gracing word shalt thou be counted
Louing to him, that is thy true sworne louer,
Thee on the stage of honor haue I mounted,
That no base mistie cloud shall euer couer:
Art thou not faire? thy beautie do not smother;
Not in thy flouring youth, but still suppose
Mine owne to be, my neuer dying Rose.
Louing to him, that is thy true sworne louer,
Thee on the stage of honor haue I mounted,
That no base mistie cloud shall euer couer:
Art thou not faire? thy beautie do not smother;
Not in thy flouring youth, but still suppose
Mine owne to be, my neuer dying Rose.
5. My destinie to thee is knowne,
Cure thou my smart, I am thine owne.
My time in loues blind idlenesse is spent,
Destinie and Fates do will it so,
To Circes charming tongue mine eare I lent,
Thee louing that dost wish my ouerthrow:
Is not this world wrapt in inconstancie,
Knowne to most men as hels miserie?
Destinie and Fates do will it so,
To Circes charming tongue mine eare I lent,
Thee louing that dost wish my ouerthrow:
Is not this world wrapt in inconstancie,
Knowne to most men as hels miserie?
Cure of my wound is past all Phisickes skill,
Thou maist be gracious, at thy very looke
My wounds will close, that would my bodie kill,
Smart will be easde that could no plaisters brooke;
I of my Phœnix being quite forsooke,
Am like a man that nothing can fulfill:
Thine euer-piercing eye of force will make me,
Owne heart, owne loue, that neuer will forsake thee.
Thou maist be gracious, at thy very looke
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Smart will be easde that could no plaisters brooke;
I of my Phœnix being quite forsooke,
Am like a man that nothing can fulfill:
Thine euer-piercing eye of force will make me,
Owne heart, owne loue, that neuer will forsake thee.
6. Ore my heart your eyes do idolatrize.
Ore the wide world my loue-layes Ile be sending,My loue-layes in my Loues praise alwayes written,
Heart-comfortable motions still attending,
Your beautie and your vertuous zeale commending,
Eyes that no frosts-cold-rage hath euer bitten:
Do you then thinke that I in Loues hot fire,
Idolatrize and surphet in desire.
7. I had rather loue though in vaine that face,
Then haue of any other grace.
I being forc'd to carrie Venus shield,
Had rather beare a Phœnix for my crest,
Rather then any bird within the field,
Loue tels me that her beautie is the best:
Though some desire faire Vestas Turtle-doue,
In my Birds bosome resteth perfect loue.
Had rather beare a Phœnix for my crest,
Rather then any bird within the field,
Loue tels me that her beautie is the best:
Though some desire faire Vestas Turtle-doue,
In my Birds bosome resteth perfect loue.
Vaine is that blind vnskilfull herauldrie,
That will not cause my bird that is so rare,
Face all the world for her rarietie,
Then who with her for honor may compare?
Haue we onelike her for her pride of beautie,
Of all the feathered Quier in the aire?
Any but vnto her do owe their dutie:
Other may blaze, but I will alwaies say,
Grace whom thou list, she beares the palme away,
That will not cause my bird that is so rare,
Face all the world for her rarietie,
Then who with her for honor may compare?
Haue we onelike her for her pride of beautie,
Of all the feathered Quier in the aire?
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Other may blaze, but I will alwaies say,
Grace whom thou list, she beares the palme away,
8. What euer fall, I am at call.
What thunder stormes of enuie shall arise,Euer to thee my heart is durable,
Fall fortunes wheele on me to tyrrannize,
I will be alwayes found inexorable:
Am I not then to thee most stable?
At morne, midnight, and at mid-dayes sunne,
Call when thou wilt, my deare, to thee Ile runne.
9. I had rather loue, though in vaine that face,
Then haue of any other grace
I now do wish my loue should be relieued,
Had I my thoughts in compasse of my will,
Rather then liue and surfeit being grieued,
Loue in my breast doth wondrous things fulfill,
Though loues vnkindnesse many men do kill,
In her I trust, that is my true sworne louer,
Vaine he doth write that doth her vertues smother.
Had I my thoughts in compasse of my will,
Rather then liue and surfeit being grieued,
Loue in my breast doth wondrous things fulfill,
Though loues vnkindnesse many men do kill,
In her I trust, that is my true sworne louer,
Vaine he doth write that doth her vertues smother.
That she is faire, Nature her selfe alloweth,
Face full of beauty, eyes resembling fire,
Then my pure hart to loue thy hart still voweth,
Haue me in fauour for my good desire,
Of holy loue, Loues Temple to aspire;
Any but thee my thoughts will nere require,
Other sweet motions now I will conceale
Grace these rude lines that my hearts thoughts reueale,
Face full of beauty, eyes resembling fire,
Then my pure hart to loue thy hart still voweth,
Haue me in fauour for my good desire,
Of holy loue, Loues Temple to aspire;
Any but thee my thoughts will nere require,
Other sweet motions now I will conceale
Grace these rude lines that my hearts thoughts reueale,
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10. Disgrace not me, in louing thee.
Disgrace be banisht from thy heauenly brow,Not entertained of thy piercing eie,
Me thy sweete lippes, a sweet touch will allow,
In thy faire bosome would I alwayes lie,
Louing in such a downe-bed to be placed,
Thee for to please, my selfe for euer graced.
11. I had rather loue though in vaine that face,
Then haue of any other grace.
I liue enricht with gifts of great content,
Had my desires the guerdon of good will,
Rather then taste of Fortunes fickle bent,
Loue bids me die, and scorne her witlesse skill,
Though Loue command, Despaire doth stil attend,
In hazard proues oft times but doubtfull end.
Vaine is the loue encountred with denayes,
That yeelds but griefe, where grace should rather grow,
Face full of furie, voide of curteous praise:
Then since all loue consists of weale and woe,
Haue still in mind, that loue deserues the best,
Of hearts the touchstone, inward motions louing,
Any that yeelds the fruite of true-loues rest,
Other I loue vnworthie of commending,
Grac'd with bare beautie, beautie most offending.
12. My selfe and mine, are alwayes thine.
My care to haue my blooming Rose not wither,Selfe-louing Enuie shall it not denie,
And that base weed thy growth doth seeke to hinder,
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Are they not enuious monsters in thine eie,
Alwayes with vaine occasions to inclose
Thine euer growing beautie, like the Rose?
13. The darting of your eies, may heale or wound,
Let not empiring lookes my heart confound.
The ey-bals in your head are Cupids fire,
Darting such hot sparkles at my brest,
Of force I am enthrald, and do desire
Your gracious loue, to make me happie blest:
Eyes, lippes, and tongue haue caused my vnrest,
May I vnto the height of grace aspire,
Heale my ficke heart with loues great griefe opprest,
Or if to fire thou wilt not yeeld such fuell,
Wound me to death, and so be counted cruell.
Darting such hot sparkles at my brest,
Of force I am enthrald, and do desire
Your gracious loue, to make me happie blest:
Eyes, lippes, and tongue haue caused my vnrest,
May I vnto the height of grace aspire,
Heale my ficke heart with loues great griefe opprest,
Or if to fire thou wilt not yeeld such fuell,
Wound me to death, and so be counted cruell.
Let the wide ope-mouth'd world slaunder the guiltie,
Not my dead Phœnix, that doth scorne such shame,
Empiring honor blots such infamie,
Lookes dart away the blemish of that name;
My thoughts prognosticate thy Ladies pittie:
Hearts-ease to thee, this counsell will I giue,
Confound thy foes, but let true louers liue.
Not my dead Phœnix, that doth scorne such shame,
Empiring honor blots such infamie,
Lookes dart away the blemish of that name;
My thoughts prognosticate thy Ladies pittie:
Hearts-ease to thee, this counsell will I giue,
Confound thy foes, but let true louers liue.
14. You are my ioy, be not so coy.
You best belou'd, you honor of delight,Are the bright shining Starre that I adore,
My eyes like Watchmen gaze within the night,
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Be not disgrasiue to thy friend therefore:
Too glorious are thy lookes to entertaine
Coy thoughts, fell peeuish deeds, our base disdaine.
15. For you I die, being absent from mine eye.
For all the holy rites that Venus vseth,You I coniure to true obedience:
I offer faith, which no kind hart refuseth,
Die periur'd Enuie for thy late offence,
Being enamored of rich Beauties pride,
Absent, I freeze in Winters pining cold,
From thee I sit, as if thou hadst denide,
My loue-sicke passions twentie times retold:
Eye-dazling Mistris, with a looke of pittie,
Grace my sad Song, and my hearts pining Dittie.
16. Send me your heart, to ease my smart.
Send but a glaunce of amours from thine eie,Me will it rauish with exceeding pleasure,
Your eye-bals do enwrap my destinie,
Heart sicke with sorrow, sorrow out of measure,
To thinke vpon my loues continuall folly:
Ease thou my paine from pitties golden treasure;
My griefe proceeds from thee, and I suppose
Smart of my smart, will my lifes bloud inclose.
17. Seeing you haue mine, let me haue thine.
Seeing my passions are so penetrable,You of all other should be pittifull,
Haue mind of me, and you'le be fauourable,
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Let my harts loue be alwayes violable,
Me haue you found in all things dutifull,
Haue me in fauour, and thy selfe shalt see,
Thine and none others, will I all wayes be.
18. Within thy brest, my hart doth rest.
Within the circuit of a Christall spheare,Thy eyes are plast, and vnderneath those eyes,
Brest of hard flint, eares that do scorne to heare
My dayes sad gronings, and night waking cries,
Hart sore sicke passions, and Loues agonies,
Doth it become thy beauty? no, astaine
Rests on thy bright brow wrinckled with disdaine.
19. O let me heare, from thee my deare.
O tongue thou hast blasphem'd thy holy Goddesse,Let me do penance for offending thee,
Me do thou blame for my forgetfulnesse:
Heare my submission, thou wilt succor me:
From thy harts closet commeth gentlenesse,
Thee hath the world admir'd for clemency,
My hart is sorrie, and Ile bite my tongue,
Deare that to thee, to thee I offred wrong.
20. My Phœnix rare, is all my care.
My life, my hart, my thoughts, I dedicate,Phœnix to thee, Phœnix of all beauty,
Rare things in hart of thee I meditate,
Is it not time, I come to shew my duty?
All fauors vnto thee I consecrate,
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Care those that list, so thou faire bird be mine.
21. I would I might, be thy delight.
I wish for things, would they might take effect,Would they might end, and we enioy our pleasure,
I vow I would not proffred time neglect,
Might I but gather such vnlook't for treasure,
Be all things enuious I would the respect,
Thy fauours in my hart I do enroule,
Delight matcht with delight, doth me controule.
22. If I you haue, none else I craue.
If adoration euer were created,I am a Maister of that holy Art,
You my aduotrix, whom I haue admired,
Haue of my true deuotion bore a part:
None but your selfe may here be nominated,
Else would my tongue my true obedience thwart:
I cannot flatter, Loue will not allow it,
Craue thou my hart, on thee I will bestow it.
23. Be you to me, as I to thee.
Bee the poore Bee, sucke hony from the flower,You haue a spacious odoriferous field,
To tast all moysture, where in sweet Floras bower,
Me shall you find submissiuely to yeeld,
As a poore Captiue looking for the hower;
I may haue gracious lookes, else am I kild,
To dye by you were life, and yet thy shame,
Thee would the wide world hate, my folly blame.
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24. You are the first, in whom I trust.
You in your bosome hauing plac'd a light,Are the chiefe admirall vnto my Fleet,
The Lanthorne for to guide me in the night,
First to the shore, where I may set my feet
In safegard, void of Dangers cruell spight,
Whom in disgrace Loue and fel Enuie meet,
I muster vp my spirits, and they flie;
Trust of thy faith controules mine enemie.
25. You are the last my loue shall taste.
You standing on the tower of hope and feare,Are timerous of selfe-will foolishnesse,
The onely Viper that doth loue-laies teare;
Last can it not, tis womans peeuishnesse,
My kind affections can it not forbeare,
Loue tels me that tis bred in idlenesse,
Shall such occasion hinder thee or me?
Taste first the fruit, and then commend the tree.
26. If you I had, I should be glad.
If the Sunne shine, the haruest man is glad,You are my Sunne, my dayes delightsome Queene,
I am your haruest laborer almost mad,
Had I not my glorious commet seene,
I wish that I might sit within thy shade,
Should I be welcome ere thy beautie fade:
Be not Narcissus, but be alwaies kind,
Glad to obtain the thing thou neare couldst find.
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27. Though place be far, my heart is nar.
Though thou my Doue from me be separated,Place, nor the distance shall not hinder me,
Be constant for a while, thou maist be thwarted,
Far am I not, Ile come to succour thee.
My heart and thine, my sweet shall nere be parted,
Heart made of loue, and true simplicitie:
Is not Loue lawlesse, full of powerfull might?
Nar to my heart that still with Loue doth fight.
28. My thoughts are dead, cause thou art sped.
My inward Muse can sing of nought but Loue,Thoughts are his Heralds, flying to my breast
Are entertained, if they thence remoue,
Dead shall their master be, and in vnrest;
Cause all the world thy hatred to reproue,
Thou art that All-in-all that I loue best:
Art thou then cruell? no thou canst not be
Sped with so foule a fiend as Crueltie.
29. I send my heart to thee, where gladly I would be.
I of all other am faire Venus thrall,
Send me but pleasant glances of thine eie,
My soule will leape with ioy and dance withall,
Heart of my heart, and soules felicitie:
To beauties Queene my heart is sanctified,
Thee aboue all things haue I deified.
Send me but pleasant glances of thine eie,
My soule will leape with ioy and dance withall,
Heart of my heart, and soules felicitie:
To beauties Queene my heart is sanctified,
Thee aboue all things haue I deified.
Where is Affections? fled to Enuies caue?
Gladlie my Thoughts would beare her companie,
I from foule bondage will my Phœnix saue,
Would she in loue requite my courtesie,
Be louing as thou art faire, else shall I sing,
Thy beautie a poisnous bitter thing.
Gladlie my Thoughts would beare her companie,
I from foule bondage will my Phœnix saue,
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Be louing as thou art faire, else shall I sing,
Thy beautie a poisnous bitter thing.
30. If you me iust haue knowne,
Then take me for your owne.
If you be faire, why should you be vnkind?
You haue no perfect reason for the same,
Me thinkes it were your glorie for to find
Iust measure at my hands, but you to blame,
Haue from the deepest closet of your heart,
Knowne my pure thoughts, and yet I pine in smart.
You haue no perfect reason for the same,
Me thinkes it were your glorie for to find
Iust measure at my hands, but you to blame,
Haue from the deepest closet of your heart,
Knowne my pure thoughts, and yet I pine in smart.
Then in the deepest measure of pure loue,
Take pittie on the sad sicke pining soule,
Me may you count your vnknowne Turtle-Doue,
For in my bosomes chamber, I enroule
Your deepe loue-darting eie, and still will be
Owne of your owne, despight extremitie.
Take pittie on the sad sicke pining soule,
Me may you count your vnknowne Turtle-Doue,
For in my bosomes chamber, I enroule
Your deepe loue-darting eie, and still will be
Owne of your owne, despight extremitie.
31. My heart I send, to be your friend.
My deare soules comfort, and my hopes true solace,Heart of my heart, and my liues secret ioy,
I in conceit do thy sweete selfe embrace,
Send cloudie exhalations cleane away
To the blind mistie North, there for to stay:
Be thou my arbour and my dwelling place,
Your armes the circling folds that shall enclose me,
Friend me with this, and thou shalt neuer lose me.
32. I haue no loue, but you my Doue.
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Haue spent my time, my ditties harsh and ill,
No sight but thy faire sight would I be seeing:
Loue in my bosome keepes his castle still,
But being disseuered I sit alwayes pining,
You do procure me Niobes cup to fill,
My dutie yet remembred I dare proue,
Doues haue no power for to exchange their Loue,
34. I will not change, though some be strange.
I cannot stir one foote from Uenus gate,Will you come sit, and beare me company?
Not one but you can make me fortunate:
Change when thou wilt, it is but cruelty,
Though vnto women it is giuen by fate,
Some gentle minds these ranging thoughts do hate:
Be thou of that mind, else I will conclude,
Strange hast thou alter'd Loue, to be so rude.
Thoughts keepe me waking.
Thoughts like the ayrie puffing of the wind,Keepe a sweet faining in my Loue-sicke brest,
Me still assuring that thou art most kind,
Waking in pleasure, sleeping sure in rest:
That no sleepes dreamings, nor no waking cries,
To our sweet louing thoughts, sweet rest denies.
Seeing that my hart made choise of thee,
Then frame thy selfe to comfort me.
Seeing Loue is pleas'd with Loues enamor'd ioyes,
That Fortune cannot crosse sweet Cupids will,
My Loues content, not with fond wanton toyes:
Hart of my hart doth Loues vnkindnesse kill,
Made by fond tongues vpbraiding hurtfull skill:
Choise now is fram'd to further all annoyes:
Of all sweete thoughts, of all sweete happie rest,
Thee haue I chose, to make me three times blest.
That Fortune cannot crosse sweet Cupids will,
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Hart of my hart doth Loues vnkindnesse kill,
Made by fond tongues vpbraiding hurtfull skill:
Choise now is fram'd to further all annoyes:
Of all sweete thoughts, of all sweete happie rest,
Thee haue I chose, to make me three times blest.
Then let our holy true aspiring loue,
Frame vs the sweetest musicke of Desire:
Thy words shall make true concord, and remoue
Selfe-will it selfe, for Venus doth require
To be acquainted with thy beauties fire:
Comfort my heart, for comfort tels me this,
Me hast thou chose of all to be thy blisse.
Frame vs the sweetest musicke of Desire:
Thy words shall make true concord, and remoue
Selfe-will it selfe, for Venus doth require
To be acquainted with thy beauties fire:
Comfort my heart, for comfort tels me this,
Me hast thou chose of all to be thy blisse.
My heart is bound to fauour thee,
Then yeeld in time to pittie me.
My Phoenix hath two starre-resembling Eyes,
Heart full of pittie, and her smiling looke,
Is of the Sunnes complexion, and replies,
Bound for performance by faire Venus booke
To faithfulnesse, which from her nurse she tooke:
Fauour in her doth spring, in vertuous praise,
Thee Eloquence it selfe shall seeke to raise.
Heart full of pittie, and her smiling looke,
Is of the Sunnes complexion, and replies,
Bound for performance by faire Venus booke
To faithfulnesse, which from her nurse she tooke:
Fauour in her doth spring, in vertuous praise,
Thee Eloquence it selfe shall seeke to raise.
Then in performance of this gracious right,
Yeeld vp that piteous heart to be my Louer,
In recompence how I haue lou'd thy sight,
Time shall from time to time to thee discouer:
To thee is giuen the power of Cupids might,
Pittie is writ in gold vpon thy hart,
Me promising to cure a curelesse smart.
Yeeld vp that piteous heart to be my Louer,
In recompence how I haue lou'd thy sight,
Time shall from time to time to thee discouer:
To thee is giuen the power of Cupids might,
Pittie is writ in gold vpon thy hart,
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I ioy to find a constant mind.
I am encompast round about with ioy,Ioy to enioy my sweete, for she protesteth
To comfort me that languish in annoy,
Find ease if any sorrow me molesteth,
A happie man that such a loue possesseth:
Constant in words, and alwayes vowes to loue me,
Mind me she will, but yet she dares not proue me.
My heart by hope doth liue,
Desire no ioy doth giue.
My loue and dearest life to thee I consecrate,
Heart of my hearts deare treasure, for I striue
By thy deuinenesse too deuine to nominate,
Hope of approued faith in me must thriue:
Doth not the God of Loue that's most deuine,
Liue in thy bosomes closet and in mine?
Heart of my hearts deare treasure, for I striue
By thy deuinenesse too deuine to nominate,
Hope of approued faith in me must thriue:
Doth not the God of Loue that's most deuine,
Liue in thy bosomes closet and in mine?
Desire to that vnspeakable delight,
No sharpe conceited wit can nere set downe,
Ioy in the world to worldly mens ey-sight,
Doth but ignoble thy imperiall crowne:
Giue thou the onset and the foe will flie,
Amazed at thy great commanding beautie.
No sharpe conceited wit can nere set downe,
Ioy in the world to worldly mens ey-sight,
Doth but ignoble thy imperiall crowne:
Giue thou the onset and the foe will flie,
Amazed at thy great commanding beautie.
Death shall take my life away,
Before my friendship shall decay.
Death that heart-wounding Lord, sweet louers foe,
Shall lay his Ebone darts at thy faire feete,
Take them into thy hand and worke my woe,
My woe that thy minds anguish will regreet:
Life, hart, ioy, greeting and all my pleasure,
Away are gone and fled from my deare treasure.
Shall lay his Ebone darts at thy faire feete,
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My woe that thy minds anguish will regreet:
Life, hart, ioy, greeting and all my pleasure,
Away are gone and fled from my deare treasure.
Before one staine shal blot thy scarlet die,
My bloud shall like a fountaine wash the place,
Friendship it selfe knit with mortality,
Shall thy immortall blemish quite disgrace:
Decay shall all the world, my Loue in thee
Shall liue vnstain'd, vntoucht perpetually.
My bloud shall like a fountaine wash the place,
Friendship it selfe knit with mortality,
Shall thy immortall blemish quite disgrace:
Decay shall all the world, my Loue in thee
Shall liue vnstain'd, vntoucht perpetually.
Let truth report what hart I beare,
To her that is my dearest deare.
Let not foule pale-fac'd Enuy be my foe,
Truth must declare my spotlesse loyalty,
Report vnto the world shall plainely show
What hart deare Loue I alwayes bore to thee,
Hart fram'd of perfect Loues sincerity:
I cannot flatter, this I plainely say,
Beare with false words, ile beare the blame away.
Truth must declare my spotlesse loyalty,
Report vnto the world shall plainely show
What hart deare Loue I alwayes bore to thee,
Hart fram'd of perfect Loues sincerity:
I cannot flatter, this I plainely say,
Beare with false words, ile beare the blame away.
To change in loue is a base simple thing,
Her name will be ore stain'd with periury,
That doth delight in nothing but dissembling?
Is it not shame so for to wrong faire beauty,
My true approued toung must answer I
Dearest beware of this, and learne of me,
Deare is that Loue combin'd with Chastity.
Her name will be ore stain'd with periury,
That doth delight in nothing but dissembling?
Is it not shame so for to wrong faire beauty,
My true approued toung must answer I
Dearest beware of this, and learne of me,
Deare is that Loue combin'd with Chastity.
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Seene hath the eye, chosen hath the hart:
Firme is the faith, and loth to depart.
Seene in all learned arts is my beloued,
Hath anie one so faire a Loue as I?
The stony-hearted sauage hath she moued,
Eye for her eye tempts blushing chastitie,
Chosen to make their nine a perfect ten,
Hath the sweet Muses honored her agen.
Hath anie one so faire a Loue as I?
The stony-hearted sauage hath she moued,
Eye for her eye tempts blushing chastitie,
Chosen to make their nine a perfect ten,
Hath the sweet Muses honored her agen.
The bright-ey'd wandring world doth alwaies seeke,
Heart-curing comfort doth proceed from thee,
Firme trust, pure thoughts, a mind that's alwayes meeke,
Is the true Badge of my loues Soueraigntie:
The honor of our age, the onely faire,
Faiths mistris, and Truths deare adopted heire.
Heart-curing comfort doth proceed from thee,
Firme trust, pure thoughts, a mind that's alwayes meeke,
Is the true Badge of my loues Soueraigntie:
The honor of our age, the onely faire,
Faiths mistris, and Truths deare adopted heire.
And those that do behold thy heauenly beautie,
Loth to forsake thee, spoile themselues with gazing,
To thee all humane knees proffer their dutie,
Depart they will not but with sad amazing:
To dimme their ey-sight looking gainst the sunne,
Whose hot reflecting beames will neare be donne.
Loth to forsake thee, spoile themselues with gazing,
To thee all humane knees proffer their dutie,
Depart they will not but with sad amazing:
To dimme their ey-sight looking gainst the sunne,
Whose hot reflecting beames will neare be donne.
No woe so great in loue, not being heard,
No plague in loue, being long deferd.
No tongue can tell the world my hearts deepe anguish,
Woe, and the minds great perturbation
So trouble me, that day and night I languish,
Great cares in loue seeke my destruction:
In all things gracious, sauing onely this,
Loue is my foe, that I account my blisse.
Woe, and the minds great perturbation
So trouble me, that day and night I languish,
Great cares in loue seeke my destruction:
In all things gracious, sauing onely this,
Loue is my foe, that I account my blisse.
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Not all the world could profer me disgrace,
Being maintained fairest faire by thee,
Hard-fortune shall thy feruant nere outface,
No stormes of Discord should discomfort me:
Plague all the world with frownes my Turtle-doue,
So that thou smile on me and be my loue.
Being maintained fairest faire by thee,
Hard-fortune shall thy feruant nere outface,
No stormes of Discord should discomfort me:
Plague all the world with frownes my Turtle-doue,
So that thou smile on me and be my loue.
Great Mistris, matchlesse in thy soueraigntie,
In lue and recompence of my affection,
Loue me againe, this do I beg of thee,
Being bound by Cupids kind direction:
Long haue I su'd for grace, yet stil I find,
Deferd I am by her that's most vnkind.
In lue and recompence of my affection,
Loue me againe, this do I beg of thee,
Being bound by Cupids kind direction:
Long haue I su'd for grace, yet stil I find,
Deferd I am by her that's most vnkind.
And if my loue shall be releeu'd by thee,
My heart is thine, and so account of me.
And yet a stedfast hope maintaines my hart,
If anie fauour fauourably proceede
My deare from thee, the curer of my smart,
Loue that easeth minds opprest with neede,
Shall be the true Phisition of my griefe,
Releeu'd alone by thee that yeeld'st reliefe.
If anie fauour fauourably proceede
My deare from thee, the curer of my smart,
Loue that easeth minds opprest with neede,
Shall be the true Phisition of my griefe,
Releeu'd alone by thee that yeeld'st reliefe.
By all the holy rites that Loue adoreth,
Thee haue I lou'd aboue the loue of any,
My heart in truth thee alwayes fauoureth,
Heart freed from any one, then freed from many:
Is it not base to change? yea so they say,
Thine owne confession loue denies delay.
Thee haue I lou'd aboue the loue of any,
My heart in truth thee alwayes fauoureth,
Heart freed from any one, then freed from many:
Is it not base to change? yea so they say,
Thine owne confession loue denies delay.
And by the high imperiall seate of Ioue,
So am I forc'd by Cupid for to sweare,
Account I must of thee my Turtle-doue,
Of thee that Times long memorie shall outweare:
Me by thy stedfast truth and faith denying,
To promise any hope on thee relying.
So am I forc'd by Cupid for to sweare,
Account I must of thee my Turtle-doue,
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Me by thy stedfast truth and faith denying,
To promise any hope on thee relying.
My passions are a hell and death to me,
Vnlesse you feele remorce and pitie me.
My sweetest thoughts sweet loue to thee I send,
Passions deeply ingrafted, vnremouable
Are my affections, and I must commend
A stedfast trust in thee most admirable:
Hell round enwraps my bodie by disdaine,
And then a heauen if thou loue againe.
Passions deeply ingrafted, vnremouable
Are my affections, and I must commend
A stedfast trust in thee most admirable:
Hell round enwraps my bodie by disdaine,
And then a heauen if thou loue againe.
Death haunts me at the heeles, yet is affraid,
To touch my bosome, knowing thou lou'st me,
Me sometimes terrifying by him betraid,
Vnlesse sweete helpfull succour come from thee:
You well I know, the honor of mine eie,
Feele some remorcefull helpe in miserie.
To touch my bosome, knowing thou lou'st me,
Me sometimes terrifying by him betraid,
Vnlesse sweete helpfull succour come from thee:
You well I know, the honor of mine eie,
Feele some remorcefull helpe in miserie.
Remorce sits on thy brow triumphantly,
And smiles vpon my face with gentle cheere;
Pittie, loues gracious mother dwels in thee,
Me fauouring, abandoning base feare,
Death is amazed, viewing of thy beautie,
Thinking thy selfe perfect eternitie.
And smiles vpon my face with gentle cheere;
Pittie, loues gracious mother dwels in thee,
Me fauouring, abandoning base feare,
Death is amazed, viewing of thy beautie,
Thinking thy selfe perfect eternitie.
My purest loue doth none but thee adore,
My heartie thoughts are thine, I loue no more.
My comfortable sweete approued Mistris,
Purest of all the pure that nature framed,
Loue in the height of all our happinesse,
Doth tell me that thy vertues are not named:
None can giue forth thy constancie approued,
But I that tride thy faith, my best beloued.
Purest of all the pure that nature framed,
Loue in the height of all our happinesse,
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None can giue forth thy constancie approued,
But I that tride thy faith, my best beloued.
Thee in the temple of faire Venus shrine
Adore I must, and kneele vpon my knee,
My fortunes tell me plaine that thou art mine,
Heartie in kindnesse, yeelding vnto me:
Thoughts the much-great disturbers of our rest
Are fled, and lodge in some vnquiet brest.
Adore I must, and kneele vpon my knee,
My fortunes tell me plaine that thou art mine,
Heartie in kindnesse, yeelding vnto me:
Thoughts the much-great disturbers of our rest
Are fled, and lodge in some vnquiet brest.
Thine euer vnremou'd and still kept word,
I pondred oftentimes within my mind:
Loue told me that thou neuer wouldst afford,
None other grace but that which I did find,
More comfortable did this sound in mine eare,
Then sweete releasement to a man in feare.
I pondred oftentimes within my mind:
Loue told me that thou neuer wouldst afford,
None other grace but that which I did find,
More comfortable did this sound in mine eare,
Then sweete releasement to a man in feare.
I do resolue to loue no loue but thee,
Therefore be kind, and fauour none but me.
I sometime sitting by my selfe alone,
Do meditate of things that are ensuing,
Resolue I do that thou must end my mone,
To strengthen Loue if loue should be declining.
Loue in thy bosome dwels, and tels me still,
No enuious stormes shall thwart affections will.
Do meditate of things that are ensuing,
Resolue I do that thou must end my mone,
To strengthen Loue if loue should be declining.
Loue in thy bosome dwels, and tels me still,
No enuious stormes shall thwart affections will.
Loue hath amaz'd the world, plac'd in thy brow,
But yet slauish disdaine seekes for to crosse
Thee and my selfe, that haue combin'd our vow,
Therefore that monster cannot worke our losse:
Be all the winds of Anger bent to rage,
Kind shalt thou find me, thus my hart I gage.
But yet slauish disdaine seekes for to crosse
Thee and my selfe, that haue combin'd our vow,
Therefore that monster cannot worke our losse:
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Kind shalt thou find me, thus my hart I gage.
And from my faith that's vnremoueable,
Fauour be seated in thy maiden eie,
None can receiue it loue more acceptable
But I my selfe, waiting thy pittying mercie:
Me hast thou made the substance of delight,
By thy faire sunne-resembling heauenly sight.
Fauour be seated in thy maiden eie,
None can receiue it loue more acceptable
But I my selfe, waiting thy pittying mercie:
Me hast thou made the substance of delight,
By thy faire sunne-resembling heauenly sight.
[Ah quoth she, but where is true Loue?]
Ah quoth she, but where is true Loue?Where quoth he? where you and I loue.
I quoth she, were thine like my loue.
Why quoth he, as you loue I loue.
Ah thou imperious high commaunding Lord,
(Quoth he) to Cupid gentle god of Loue,
He that I honor most will not accord,
But striues against thy Iustice from aboue,
Where I haue promist faith, my plighted word
Is quite refused with a base reproue:
True louing honour this I onely will thee,
Loue thy true loue, or else false loue will kill me.
Where shall I find a heart that's free from guile?
Quoth Faithfulnesse, within my louers brest.
He at these pleasing words began to smile,
Where Anguish wrapt his thoughts in much vnrest:
You did with pretie tales the time beguile,
And made him in conceited pleasure blest,
I grac'd the words spoke with so sweet a tong,
Loue being the holy burden of your song.
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(Quoth true Experience,) sit and you shall see,
She will enchaunt you with her heauenly lay:
Were you fram'd all of heauenly Pollicie,
Thine eares should drinke the poison of Delay,
Like as I said, so did it proue to be,
My Mistris beautie grac'd my Mistris song,
Loue pleasd more with her Eyes then with her Tong.
Why then in deepenesse of sweete Loues delight,
Quoth she, the perfect Mistris of Desire,
He that I honor most bard from my sight,
As a bright Lampe kindles Affections fire:
You Magicke operations worke your spight,
Loue to the mountaine top of will aspires:
I chalenge all in all, and this I sing,
Loue is a holy Saint, a Lord, a King.
Ah Loue, where is thy faith in sweete loue?
Why loue where hearts conioyne in true loue:
Why then my heart hopes of thy Loues loue,
Else let my heart be plagu'd with false loue.
Why loue where hearts conioyne in true loue:
Why then my heart hopes of thy Loues loue,
Else let my heart be plagu'd with false loue.
Why art thou strange to me my Deare?
Not strange when as I loue my deare:
But thou esteem'st not of thy deare.
Yes when I know my dearest deare.
Not strange when as I loue my deare:
But thou esteem'st not of thy deare.
Yes when I know my dearest deare.
Why is my Loue so false to me?
My loue is thine if thou lou'st me:
Thee I loue, else none contents me.
If thou lou'st me, it not repents me.
My loue is thine if thou lou'st me:
Thee I loue, else none contents me.
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Ah quoth he, wher's faith in sweete loue?
Why quoth she, conioynd in true loue.
Ah quoth he, I hope of thy loue:
Else quoth she, Ile die a false loue.
Why quoth she, conioynd in true loue.
Ah quoth he, I hope of thy loue:
Else quoth she, Ile die a false loue.
Ah my Deare, why dost thou kill me?
No my deare, Loue doth not will me.
Then in thine armes thou shalt enfould me.
I, my deare, there thou shalt hold me:
And holding me betweene thine armes,
I shall embrace sweete Louers Charmes.
No my deare, Loue doth not will me.
Then in thine armes thou shalt enfould me.
I, my deare, there thou shalt hold me:
And holding me betweene thine armes,
I shall embrace sweete Louers Charmes.
Though death from life my bodie part,
Yet neare the lesse keepe thou my hart.
Though some men are inconstant, fond, and fickle,
Deaths ashie count'nance shall not alter me:
From glasse they take their substance being brittle,
Life, Heart, and Hand shall awaies fauour thee,
My Pen shall write thy vertues registrie,
Bodie conioyn'd with bodie, free from strife,
Part not in sunder till we part our life.
Deaths ashie count'nance shall not alter me:
From glasse they take their substance being brittle,
Life, Heart, and Hand shall awaies fauour thee,
My Pen shall write thy vertues registrie,
Bodie conioyn'd with bodie, free from strife,
Part not in sunder till we part our life.
Yet my soules life to my deare lifes concluding,
Nere let Absurditie that villaine, theefe,
The monster of our time, mens praise deriding,
Lesse in perseuerance, of small knowledge chiefe,
Keep the base Gate to things that are excelling,
Thou by faire vertues praise maist yeeld reliefe,
My lines are thine, then tell Absurditie,
Hart of my deare, shall blot his villanie.
Nere let Absurditie that villaine, theefe,
The monster of our time, mens praise deriding,
Lesse in perseuerance, of small knowledge chiefe,
Keep the base Gate to things that are excelling,
Thou by faire vertues praise maist yeeld reliefe,
160
Hart of my deare, shall blot his villanie.
Where hearts agree, no strife can be.
Where faithfulnesse vnites it selfe with loue,Hearts pin'd with sorrow cannot disagree:
Agree they must of force, for from aboue
No wind oppressing mischiefe may we see:
Strife is quite banisht from our companie.
Can I be sad? no, Pleasure bids me sing,
Be blessed, for sweete Loue's a happie thing.
Thy vowes my loue and heart hath wonne,
Till thy vntruth hath it vndonne.
Thy true vnspeakable fidelitie,
Vowes made to Cupid and his faire-fac'd mother,
My thoughts haue wonne to vertuous chastitie:
Loue thee alone I will, and loue none other,
And if thou find not my loues secrecie,
Heart fauoring thee, then do thou Fancie smother.
Hath all the world such a true Bird as I,
Wonne to this fauour by my constancie?
Vowes made to Cupid and his faire-fac'd mother,
My thoughts haue wonne to vertuous chastitie:
Loue thee alone I will, and loue none other,
And if thou find not my loues secrecie,
Heart fauoring thee, then do thou Fancie smother.
Hath all the world such a true Bird as I,
Wonne to this fauour by my constancie?
Till that leane fleshles cripple, pale-fac'd Death,
Thy louely Doue shall pierce with his fell dart,
Vntruth in my faire bosome nere takes breath:
Hath any loue such a firme constant heart?
It is thine owne, vnlesse thou keepe it still
Vndone shall I be, cleane against my will.
Thy louely Doue shall pierce with his fell dart,
Vntruth in my faire bosome nere takes breath:
Hath any loue such a firme constant heart?
It is thine owne, vnlesse thou keepe it still
Vndone shall I be, cleane against my will.
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Time shall tell thee, how well I loue thee
Time the true proportioner of things,Shall in the end shew my affection,
Tell thee from whence all these my passions spring,
Thee honoring that of loue haue made election:
How often I haue made my offerings,
Well knowne to Venus and her louely sonne,
I to the wide world shall my passions runne:
Loue is a Lord of hearts, a great Commander,
Thee chalenging to be my chiefe defender.
Most deuine and sacred,
Haue I found your loue vnspotted.
Most reuerend Mistris honor of mine eie,
Deuine, most holy in religious loue,
And Lord it selfe of my hearts emperie,
Sacred in thoughts admitted from aboue,
Haue in remembrance what affection willeth:
I it reuiues the mind, and the mind killeth.
Found haue I written in your skie-like brow,
Your neuer ceasing kind humilitie,
Loue for your sake to me hath made a vow,
Vnspotted shall I find your constancie,
And without staine, to thy pure stainlesse beautie,
Shall my hearts bosome offer vp his dutie.
The want of thee is death to me.
The day shall be all night, and night all day,Want of the Sunne and Moone to giue vs light,
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Thee from thy pleasure of thy hearts delight.
Is not Affection nurse to long Delay?
Deaths Messenger, that barres me from thy sight?
To be in absence, is to burne in fire,
Me round enwrapping with hot Loues desire.
I loue to be beloued.
I do acknowledge of all constant pure,Loue is my true thoughts herrald, and Ile sing
To be of thy thoughts closet, firme and sure,
Be the world still thy vertues deifying:
Beloued of the most, yet most of many,
Affirme my deare, thou art belou'd of any.
I scorne if I be scorned.
I being not belou'd by my affection,Scorne within my thoughts such bad disgrace,
If thou of me do make thy firme election,
I to none other loue will giue my place:
Be thou my Saint, my bosomes Lord to proue,
Scorned of all, Ile be thy truest loue.
The heart's in paine, that loues in vaine.
The griefe poore louers feele being not beloued,Hearts anguish, and sad lookes may testifie:
In night they sleepe not, and in day perplexed,
Paine of this sorrow makes them melancholy,
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Loues terror is so sharpe, so strong, so mightie,
In all things vnresistable, being aliue,
Vaine he resists that gainst loues force doth striue.
What greater ioy can be then this,
Where loue enioyes each louers wish?
What may we count the world if loue were dead?
Greater in woe, then woe it selfe can be,
Ioy from mans secret bosome being fled,
Cannot but kill the heart immediatly,
Because by ioy the heart is nourished:
Then entertaine sweete loue within thy brest,
This motion in the end will make thee blest.
Greater in woe, then woe it selfe can be,
Ioy from mans secret bosome being fled,
Cannot but kill the heart immediatly,
Because by ioy the heart is nourished:
Then entertaine sweete loue within thy brest,
This motion in the end will make thee blest.
Where two harts are vnited all in one,
Loue like a King, a Lord, a Soueraigne,
Enioyes the throne of blisse to sit vpon,
Each sad heart crauing aid, by Cupid slaine:
Louers be merrie, Loue being dignified,
Wish what you will, it shall not be denied.
Loue like a King, a Lord, a Soueraigne,
Enioyes the throne of blisse to sit vpon,
Each sad heart crauing aid, by Cupid slaine:
Louers be merrie, Loue being dignified,
Wish what you will, it shall not be denied.
Finis.
quoth R. Chester.
| Loves martyr | |