 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
xxxvii
TO OVRE Q. AND THE K. OF SCOTS.
xxxviii
TO THE Q.: AFTER HIS RETURNE OUTE OF ITALYE.
Not longe agoe, in Poland traveiling,
Changing my tongue, my nation and my weede,
Mayne wordes I heard from forreyne mouth proceed,
Theyre wonder and thy glorie witnessing;
Changing my tongue, my nation and my weede,
Mayne wordes I heard from forreyne mouth proceed,
Theyre wonder and thy glorie witnessing;
How from thy wisdome did those conquests spring
Which ruin'd them thy ruine which decreed.
But such as envyed thee in this agreed:
Thy iland's seate did thee most succoure bring;
Which ruin'd them thy ruine which decreed.
But such as envyed thee in this agreed:
Thy iland's seate did thee most succoure bring;
So, if the sea by miracle were drye,
Easie thy foes thy kingdome might invade.
Fooles, which knowe not the power of thyne eye!
Thine eye hath made a thousand eyes to weepe,
And every eye a thousand seas hath made,
And each sea shall thyne ile in safetie keepe.
Easie thy foes thy kingdome might invade.
Fooles, which knowe not the power of thyne eye!
Thine eye hath made a thousand eyes to weepe,
And every eye a thousand seas hath made,
And each sea shall thyne ile in safetie keepe.
xxxix
TO THE QUEENE: TOUCHING THE CRUELL EFFECTS OF HER PERFECTIONS.
Most sacred Prince! why should I thee thus prayse
Which both of sin and sorrowe cawse has beene:
Proude hast thow made thy land of such a Queene;
Thy neighboures enviouse of thy happie dayes.
Which both of sin and sorrowe cawse has beene:
Proude hast thow made thy land of such a Queene;
Thy neighboures enviouse of thy happie dayes.
Whoe never saw the sunshine of thy rayes,
An everlasting night his life doth ween;
And he whose eyes thy eyes but once have seene
A thousand signes of burning thoughts bewrayes.
An everlasting night his life doth ween;
And he whose eyes thy eyes but once have seene
A thousand signes of burning thoughts bewrayes.
Thus sin thow caus'd, (envye, I meane, & pride)
Thus sin and darknesse doe proceed from thee;
The very paynes which men in hell abide.
Oh no; not hell, but purgatorie this,
Whose sowles some say by angells punish'd be,
For thou art shee from whome this torment is.
Thus sin and darknesse doe proceed from thee;
The very paynes which men in hell abide.
Oh no; not hell, but purgatorie this,
Whose sowles some say by angells punish'd be,
For thou art shee from whome this torment is.
xl
TO THE Q.: UPON OCCASION OF A BOOKE HE WROTE, IN AN ANSWER TO CERTAYNE OBJECTIONS AGAINST HER PROCEEDINGS IN THE LOW-COUNTRYES.
The love wherewith youre vertues chayne my sprite
Envyes the hate I beare unto your foe;
Since hatefull pen had meanes his hate to showe,
And love like means had not of love to wryte;
Envyes the hate I beare unto your foe;
Since hatefull pen had meanes his hate to showe,
And love like means had not of love to wryte;
I meane, write that your vertues doe endite,
From which spring all my conceyts doe flow,
And of my pen my sword doth enviouse growe,
That pen before my sword youre foes should smite.
From which spring all my conceyts doe flow,
And of my pen my sword doth enviouse growe,
That pen before my sword youre foes should smite.
And to my inke my bloud doth envie beare,
That in youre cause more inke then bloud I shed;
Which envie, though it be a vice, yet heere
'Tis vertue, sith youre vertues have it bred.
Thus powerfull youre sacred vertues be,
Which vice it selfe a vertue makes in me.
That in youre cause more inke then bloud I shed;
Which envie, though it be a vice, yet heere
'Tis vertue, sith youre vertues have it bred.
Thus powerfull youre sacred vertues be,
Which vice it selfe a vertue makes in me.
xli
TO THE K. OF SCOTS, WHOME AS YET HE HAD NOT SEENE.
Bloome of the rose! I hope those hands to kisse
Which yonge a scepter, which olde wisdome bore;
And offer up joy-sacrifice before
Thy altar-throne for that receaved blisse.
Which yonge a scepter, which olde wisdome bore;
And offer up joy-sacrifice before
Thy altar-throne for that receaved blisse.
Yet, prince of hope! suppose not for all this
That I thy place and not thy guifts adore;
Thy scepter, no, thy pen, I honoure more;
More deare to me then crowne thy garland is;
That I thy place and not thy guifts adore;
Thy scepter, no, thy pen, I honoure more;
More deare to me then crowne thy garland is;
That laurell garland which, if hope say true,
To thee for deeds of prowesse shall belong,
And now allreadie unto thee is due,
As to a David for a kinglie throne.
The pen wherewith thou dost so heavenly singe
Made of a quill pluckt from an angell's winge.
To thee for deeds of prowesse shall belong,
And now allreadie unto thee is due,
As to a David for a kinglie throne.
The pen wherewith thou dost so heavenly singe
Made of a quill pluckt from an angell's winge.
xlii
TO THE K. OF SCOTS, TOUCHING THE SUBJECT OF HIS POEMS DEDICATED WHOLIE TO HEAVENLY MATTERS.
Where others hooded with blind love doe flie
Low on the ground with buzzard Cupid's wings,
A heavenlie love, from love of love thee brings,
And makes thy Muse to mount above the skie;
Low on the ground with buzzard Cupid's wings,
A heavenlie love, from love of love thee brings,
And makes thy Muse to mount above the skie;
Young Muses be not wont to flie too hie,
Age taught by Time such sober ditties sings;
But thy youth flies from love of youthfull things,
And so the wings of Time doth overflie.
Age taught by Time such sober ditties sings;
But thy youth flies from love of youthfull things,
And so the wings of Time doth overflie.
Thus thou disdainst all worldlie things as slow;
Because thy Muse, with Angel's wings, doth leave
Time's wings behind, and Cupid's wings below;
But take thou heed, least Fame's wings thee deceave.
With all thy speede from Fame thou canst not flee,
But more thou flees, the more it followes thee.
Because thy Muse, with Angel's wings, doth leave
Time's wings behind, and Cupid's wings below;
But take thou heed, least Fame's wings thee deceave.
With all thy speede from Fame thou canst not flee,
But more thou flees, the more it followes thee.
xliii
TO THE K. OF SCOTS, UPON OCCASION OF A SONNET THE K. WROTE IN COMPLAINT OF A CONTRARIE WIND WHICH HINDRED THE ARRIVALL OF THE QUEENE OUTE OF DENMARK. MDLXXXIX.
If I durst sigh still as I had begun,
Or durst shed teares in such abundant store,
You should have need to blame the sea no more,
Nor call upon the wind as you have done;
Or durst shed teares in such abundant store,
You should have need to blame the sea no more,
Nor call upon the wind as you have done;
For from myne eyes an ocean-sea should run
Which the desired ships should carrie o'r,
And my sighes blowe such winde from northern shore
As soone you should behold youre wished sun.
Which the desired ships should carrie o'r,
And my sighes blowe such winde from northern shore
As soone you should behold youre wished sun.
But with those sighes my deare displeased is,
Which should both hast your joye and slake my payne;
Yet for my good will, O kinge! grant me this:
When to the winds yow sacrifice agayne,
Sith I desir'd my sighes should blow for thee,
Desire thou the winds to sigh for me.
Which should both hast your joye and slake my payne;
Yet for my good will, O kinge! grant me this:
When to the winds yow sacrifice agayne,
Sith I desir'd my sighes should blow for thee,
Desire thou the winds to sigh for me.
xliv
TO THE K. OF SCOTS UPON OCCASION OF HIS LONGE STAY IN DENMARKE BY REASON OF THE COLDNESSE OF THE WINTER AND FREEZING OF THE SEA.
If I durst love as heertofore I have,
Or that my heart durst flame as it doth burne,
The ice should not so longe stay youre returne,
My heart should easely thaw the frozen wave;
Or that my heart durst flame as it doth burne,
The ice should not so longe stay youre returne,
My heart should easely thaw the frozen wave;
But when my payne makes me for pittie crave,
The blindest see with what just cause I mourne;
So least my torment to his blame should turne.
My hearte is forc'd to hide the fire she gave.
The blindest see with what just cause I mourne;
So least my torment to his blame should turne.
My hearte is forc'd to hide the fire she gave.
But what doth neede the sea my heart at all?
Thow and the spouse be suns; in beautye shee,
In wisdome thow; the sun we Phœbus call,
And Phœbus for thy wisdome we call thee;
Now if the sun can thaw the sea alone,
Cannot two suns supplie the want of one?
Thow and the spouse be suns; in beautye shee,
In wisdome thow; the sun we Phœbus call,
And Phœbus for thy wisdome we call thee;
Now if the sun can thaw the sea alone,
Cannot two suns supplie the want of one?
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |