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The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable

Constable, Henry (1562-1613)

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THE SHEEPHEARD'S SONG OF VENUS & ADONIS
 
DAMELUS' SONG TO HIS DIAPHENIA.
 
A PASTORALL SONG BETWEENE PHILLIS AND AMARILLIS, TWO NIMPHES, EACH AUNSWERING OTHER LINE FOR LINE.
 
TO HIS FLOCKS.
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[dedication]
 
[Grace full of grace, though in these verses heere]
 
[Resolv'd to love, unworthy to obtaine]
 
[Fly low, deere Love, thy Sunne doost thou not see?]
 
[Thine eye, the glasse where I behold my hart]
 
[Delight in youre bright eyes my death did breede]
 
[When youre perfections to my thoughts appeare]
 
[It may be Love my death doth not pretend]
 
[Blame not my hart for flying up too hie]
 
[Eyes curiouse to behold what nature can create]
 
[Ladie! in beautie and in favour rare]
 
[Ladie of ladies, the delight alone]
 
[Not that thy hand is soft, is sweete, is white]
 
[Sweete Soveraigne! sith so many minds remaine]
 
[When beautie to the world vouchsafes this blisse]
 
[Falsly doth envie of your praises blame]
 
[My Lady's presence makes the Roses red]
 
[Sweet hand! the sweet but cruell bowe thou art]
 
[The Fouler hides, (as closely as he may)]
 
TO HIS MISTRISSE UPON THE OCCASION OF A PETRARCH HE GAVE HER.
 
[A friend of mine, pittying my hopelesse love]
 
[Faire Sunne! if you would have me praise your light]
 
[The sunne, his journey ending in the West]
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[dedication]
 
TO THE Q.: AFTER HIS RETURNE OUTE OF ITALYE.
 
TO THE QUEENE: TOUCHING THE CRUELL EFFECTS OF HER PERFECTIONS.
 
TO THE Q.: UPON OCCASION OF A BOOKE HE WROTE, IN AN ANSWER TO CERTAYNE OBJECTIONS AGAINST HER PROCEEDINGS IN THE LOW-COUNTRYES.
 
TO THE K. OF SCOTS, WHOME AS YET HE HAD NOT SEENE.
 
TO THE K. OF SCOTS, TOUCHING THE SUBJECT OF HIS POEMS DEDICATED WHOLIE TO HEAVENLY MATTERS.
 
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.
 
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.
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[dedication]
 
TO THE PRINCESS OF ORANGE.
 
TO THE COUNTESSE OF SHREWSBURYE.
 
TO THE COUNTESSES OF CUMBERLAND AND WARWICK, SISTERS.
 
TO MY LADIE ARBELLA.
 
TO THE LADY ARBELLA.
 
TO MY LADIE RICH.
 
TO THE LADIE RICH.
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TO SEVERALL PERSONS UPON SUNDRYE OCCASIONS.
 
TO THE PRINCESSE OF ORANGE, UPON OCCASION OF THE MURTHER OF HER FATHER AND HUSBAND.
 
To the COUNTESSE of SHREWSBURYE, UPON OCCASION OF HIS DEARE MISTRESSE, WHO LIV'D UNDER HER GOVERNMENT.
 
TO THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKE.
 
TO THE COUNTESSE of ESSEX, UPON OCCASION OF THE DEATH OF HER FIRST HUSBAND, SIR PHILIP SYDNEY.
 
TO THE LADIE CLINTON.
 
A CALCULATION UPON THE BIRTH OF AN HONOURABLE LADY'S DAUGHTER, BORNE IN THE YEERE MDLXXXVIII, AND ON A FRIDAY.
 
TO MR. HILLIARD, UPON OCCASION OF A PICTURE HE MADE OF MY LADIE RICH.
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COMPLAYNTS OF MISFORTUNES IN LOVE.
 
[Now, now I love indeed, and suffer more]
 
[Wonder it is, and pittie is't that shee]
 
[Pitty refusing my poore Love to feede]
 
[If that one care had oure two hearts possest]
 
[Vncivill sickness! hast thou no regard]
 
[Deare! though from me youre gratiouse lookes depart]
 
[If ever any justlye might complayne]
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OF THE END AND DEATH OF HIS LOVE.
 
[Much sorrow in it selfe my love doth move]
 
[Needes must I leave, and yet needes must I love]
 
[My Reason, absent, did mine eyes require]
 
[Each day new proofes of newe dispaire I finde]
 
[Mine eye with all the deadly sinnes is fraught]
 
[If true love might true love's reward obtaine]
 
[Somtimes in verse I praisd, somtime I sigh'd]
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FOURE SONNETS TO SIR PHILLIP SIDNEY'S SOULE.
 
[Give pardon (blessed soule) to my bold cryes]
 
[Sweet soule! which now with heav'nly songs doost tel]
 
[Even as when great men's heires cannot agree]
 
[Great Alexander then did well declare]
 
TO THE DIVINE PROTECTION OF THE LADIE ARBELLA, THE AUTHOR COMMENDETH BOTH HIS GRACE'S HONOURE AND HIS MVSE'S ÆTERNITIE.
 
OF THE DEATH OF MY LADIE RICH'S DAUGHTER. SHEWING THE REASON OF HER UNTIMELY DEATH HINDRED HER EFFECTING THOSE THINGS WHICH BY THE FORMER CALCULATION OF HER NATIVITYE HE FORETOLD.
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SPIRITUALL SONNETTES TO THE HONOUR OF GOD & HYS SAYNTES. BY H. C.
 
TO GOD THE FATHER.
 
TO GOD THE SONNE.
 
TO GOD THE HOLY-GHOST.
 
TO THE BLESSED SACRAMENT.
 
TO OUR BLESSED LADY.
 
To ST. MYCHAELL THE ARCHANGEL.
 
TO ST. JHON BAPTIST.
 
TO ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL.
 
TO ST. MARY MAGDALEN.
 
TO ST. KATHARYNE.
 
TO ST. MARGARETT.
 
TO OUR BLESSED LADY.
 
TO OUR BLESSED LADY.
 
TO OUR BLESSED LADY.
 
TO ST. MARY MAGDALEN.
 
TO ST. MARY MAGDALEN.
 
TO ST. MARY MAGDALEN.

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lxii

[Now, now I love indeed, and suffer more]

Now, now I love indeed, and suffer more
In one day now then I did in a yeare;
Great flames they be which but small sparkles were,
And wounded now, I was but prickt before.
No mervayle then, though more then heretofore
I weepe and sigh: how can great wounds be there
Where moysture runs not oute? and ever where
The fire is great of smoke there must be store.
My heart was hetherto but like green wood,
Which must be dry'd before it will burn bright;
My former love served but my heart to drye;
Now Cupid for his fire doth find it good;
For now it burneth cleare, and shall give light
For all the worlde youre beautie to espie.
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