The complete works of John Lyly now for the first time collected and edited from the earliest quartos with life, bibliography, essays, notes and index by R. Warwick Bond |
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The complete works of John Lyly | ||
1.
[When I behoulde the trees in the earthes fayre lyuerye clothed]
When I behoulde the trees in the earthes fayre lyuerye clothedEase I do feele, suche ease as faulles to me wholy diseased
For that I fynde in them parte of my state represented
Lawrell showes what I seek, by ye Myrr is showde how I seek it
Olyue poyntes me the pryce that I muste aspyre to by conquest
Myrtle makes me requeste, my requeste is vnsealde by a Willowe
Cipruss promisethe healpe, but healp yt bringes me no comfort
Sweet Iuniper sayes thus, thoughe I burne, yet I burn in a sweet fyre
Ewe dothe make me thinke what kynd of bowe the boye houldethe,
Whiche shootes throughe wthout any noyse and deadlye wthout smarte.
Firr tree is great and greene fyxte one a hye hill but a barren.
Lyke to my noble thoughtes styll newe, well plaste, to me fruteless.
Figg that yealdes moste pleasaunt frute his shadow is hurtefull.
Thus be her guifts most sweet thus most dawnger to be neere her
But in Palme when I mark howe he dothe ryse vnder a burthen
And maye not I saye than get vp thoughe grefes be so wayghtye
Pyne is a maste to a shipp, to my shipp shall hope for a mast serue
Pyne is hyghe, hope is as hyghe, yet be my hopes budded.
Elme imbraste by a Vine, embracinge fancye reuiuethe.
Popler chaungethe his hewe, from a rysinge sun̄ to a settinge.
Thus to my sunn do I yealde, suche lookes her beames do afford me,
Ould aged oke cutt doune for new workes serues to the buildinge
So my desyrs by feare cut downe for ye frames of her honor
Palmes do reioyse to be ioynde wth ye matche of a male to a femall
And shall sensiue thinges be so sensless as to resist sense
Ashe makes speare wch sheilds do resiste, hir force no repuls takes
Thus be my thoughts disperst thus thinkinge nowrsest a thought still
But to the Cædar queen of woodes when I lyft my betrayde eys
Than do I shape my selfe that forme wch raygnes so within me
And thinke ther she dothe dwell and here wt pllaynts I do vtter
When that noble topp dothe nodd I beleiue she salutes me
Than kneelinge often thus I do speake to her image.
Onlye Iewell, all onlye Iewell, whiche onlye deserueste
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O descend for a whill from this great hyghte to behoulde me
But nought else do behoulde or it is not worthe the behouldinge
Se what a thought is wrought by thy selfe! and since I am alltred
Thus by thy werck disdayne not[e] that wch is by thy selfe done.
In meane caues oft treasuer abydes, to an hostry a kinge comes
—And so behind black cloudes full oft fayer streams do ly hidden.
FINIS.
The complete works of John Lyly | ||