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 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
xiv
TO HIS MISTRISSE.
xv
[Grace full of grace, though in these verses heere]
Grace full of grace, though in these verses heere
My love complaynes of others then of thee,
Yet thee alone I lov'd, & they by mee
(Thow yet unknowne) only mistaken were.
My love complaynes of others then of thee,
Yet thee alone I lov'd, & they by mee
(Thow yet unknowne) only mistaken were.
Like him which feeles a heate, now heere, now there,
Blames now this cause, now that, untill he see
The fire indeed from whence they caused bee;
Which fire I now doe knowe is you, my deare!
Blames now this cause, now that, untill he see
The fire indeed from whence they caused bee;
Which fire I now doe knowe is you, my deare!
Thus diverse loves, dispersed in my verse,
In thee alone for ever I unite.
But follie unto thee more to rehearse:
To him I flye for grace that rules above,
That by my grace I may live in delight,
Or by his grace I never more may love.
In thee alone for ever I unite.
But follie unto thee more to rehearse:
To him I flye for grace that rules above,
That by my grace I may live in delight,
Or by his grace I never more may love.
xvi
[Resolv'd to love, unworthy to obtaine]
Resolv'd to love, unworthy to obtaine,
I doe no favour crave; but humble wise
To thee my sighes in verse I sacrifise,
Onely some pitty and no helpe to gaine.
I doe no favour crave; but humble wise
To thee my sighes in verse I sacrifise,
Onely some pitty and no helpe to gaine.
Heare then; and as my hart shall aye remaine
A patient object to thy lightning eyes,
A patient eare bring thou to thundring cryes;
Fear not the cracke, when I the blow sustaine.
A patient object to thy lightning eyes,
A patient eare bring thou to thundring cryes;
Fear not the cracke, when I the blow sustaine.
So, as thine eye bred mine ambitious thought,
So shall thine eare make proud my voyce for joy;
Lo (Deere) what wonders great by thee are wrought,
When I but little favours doe enjoy;
The voyce is made the eare for to rejoyce,
And your eare giveth pleasure to my voyce.
So shall thine eare make proud my voyce for joy;
Lo (Deere) what wonders great by thee are wrought,
When I but little favours doe enjoy;
The voyce is made the eare for to rejoyce,
And your eare giveth pleasure to my voyce.
xvii
[Fly low, deere Love, thy Sunne doost thou not see?]
Fly low, deere Love, thy Sunne doost thou not see?
Take heede; do not so neare his rayes aspyre,
Least (for thy pride, inflam'd with wreakful ire)
It burne thy wings, as it hath burned me.
Take heede; do not so neare his rayes aspyre,
Least (for thy pride, inflam'd with wreakful ire)
It burne thy wings, as it hath burned me.
Thou (haply) saist thy wings immortall bee,
And so cannot consumed be with fire;
The one is Hope, the other is Desire,
And that the heavens bestow'd them both on thee.
And so cannot consumed be with fire;
The one is Hope, the other is Desire,
And that the heavens bestow'd them both on thee.
A Muse's words made thee with Hope to flye,
An Angel's face Desire hath begot,
Thy selfe engendred of a Goddesse' eye:
Yet for all this, immortall thou are not.
Of heavenly eye though thou begotten art,
Yet art thou borne but of a mortall hart.
An Angel's face Desire hath begot,
Thy selfe engendred of a Goddesse' eye:
Yet for all this, immortall thou are not.
Of heavenly eye though thou begotten art,
Yet art thou borne but of a mortall hart.
xviii
[Thine eye, the glasse where I behold my hart]
Thine eye, the glasse where I behold my hart;
Mine eye, the window through the which thine eye
May see my hart, & there thy selfe espy
In bloody cullours how thou painted art;
Mine eye, the window through the which thine eye
May see my hart, & there thy selfe espy
In bloody cullours how thou painted art;
Thine eye the pyle is of a murdring dart,
Mine eye the sight thou tak'st thy levell by
To hit my hart, and never shootes awry;
Mine eye thus helpes thine eye to worke my smart;
Mine eye the sight thou tak'st thy levell by
To hit my hart, and never shootes awry;
Mine eye thus helpes thine eye to worke my smart;
Thine eye a fire is, both in heate and lighte;
Mine eye of teares a river doth become.
Oh, that the water of mine eye had might
To quench the flames that from thine eye doth come;
Or that the fire kindled by thine eye
The flowing streames of mine eyes could make drie.
Mine eye of teares a river doth become.
Oh, that the water of mine eye had might
To quench the flames that from thine eye doth come;
Or that the fire kindled by thine eye
The flowing streames of mine eyes could make drie.
xix
[Delight in youre bright eyes my death did breede]
Delight in youre bright eyes my death did breede,
As light and glittering weapons babes allure
To play with fire and sworde, and so procure
Them to be burnt and hurt ere they take heed.
As light and glittering weapons babes allure
To play with fire and sworde, and so procure
Them to be burnt and hurt ere they take heed.
Thy beautie so hath made me burne and bleed;
Yet shall my ashes and my bloud assure
Thy beauty's fame for ever to endure;
For thy fame's life from my death doth proceed;
Yet shall my ashes and my bloud assure
Thy beauty's fame for ever to endure;
For thy fame's life from my death doth proceed;
Because my hearte, to ashes burned, giveth
Life to thy fame, thou right a phœnix art;
And like a pellican thy beautie liveth
By sucking bloud oute of my breast and hearte.
Loe! why with wonder we may thee compare
Unto the pelican and phœnix rare.
Life to thy fame, thou right a phœnix art;
And like a pellican thy beautie liveth
By sucking bloud oute of my breast and hearte.
Loe! why with wonder we may thee compare
Unto the pelican and phœnix rare.
xx
[When youre perfections to my thoughts appeare]
When youre perfections to my thoughts appeare,
They say among themselves: O happy wee
Which ever shall so rare an object see!
But happy hart, if thoughts lesse happy were.
They say among themselves: O happy wee
Which ever shall so rare an object see!
But happy hart, if thoughts lesse happy were.
For their delights have cost my hart full dere,
In whom of love a thousand causes be,
And each cause breeds a thousand loves in me,
And each love more then thousand harts can beare.
In whom of love a thousand causes be,
And each cause breeds a thousand loves in me,
And each love more then thousand harts can beare.
How can my hart so many loves then hold,
Which yet (by heapes) increase from day to day?
But, like a shyp that's overcharg'd with gold,
Must either sinke, or hurle the gold away.
But hurle out love; thou canst not, feeble hart!
In thine owne blood thou therefore drowned art.
Which yet (by heapes) increase from day to day?
But, like a shyp that's overcharg'd with gold,
Must either sinke, or hurle the gold away.
But hurle out love; thou canst not, feeble hart!
In thine owne blood thou therefore drowned art.
xxi
[It may be Love my death doth not pretend]
It may be Love my death doth not pretend,
Although he shoots at mee; but thinks it fit
Thus to bewitch thee for my benefit.
Causing thy will to my wish condiscend.
Although he shoots at mee; but thinks it fit
Thus to bewitch thee for my benefit.
Causing thy will to my wish condiscend.
For witches which some murther doe intend
Doe make a picture and doe shoote at it;
And in that part where they the picture hit
The party's selfe doth languish to his end.
Doe make a picture and doe shoote at it;
And in that part where they the picture hit
The party's selfe doth languish to his end.
So Love, too weake by force thy hart to taint,
Within my hart thy heavenly shape doth paint,
Suffring therein his arrowes to abide;
Onely to th' end he might, by witches' arte,
Within my hart pierce through thy picture's side,
And through thy picture's side might wound thy hart.
Within my hart thy heavenly shape doth paint,
Suffring therein his arrowes to abide;
Onely to th' end he might, by witches' arte,
Within my hart pierce through thy picture's side,
And through thy picture's side might wound thy hart.
xxii
[Blame not my hart for flying up too hie]
Blame not my hart for flying up too hie,
Sith thou art cause that it this flight begunne;
For earthly vapours, drawne up by the Sunne,
Comets begun, and night sunnes, in the skie.
Sith thou art cause that it this flight begunne;
For earthly vapours, drawne up by the Sunne,
Comets begun, and night sunnes, in the skie.
Mine humble hart, so with thy heavenly eie
Drawne up aloft, all low desires doth shunne;
Raise then me up, as thou my hart hast done;
So, during night, in heaven remaine may I.
Drawne up aloft, all low desires doth shunne;
Raise then me up, as thou my hart hast done;
So, during night, in heaven remaine may I.
I say againe: Blame not my high desire;
Sith of us both the cause thereof depends;
In thee doth shine, in mee doth burne, a fire.
Fire drawes up other and it selfe ascends:
Thine eye a fire, and so drawes up my love;
My love a fire, and so ascends above.
Sith of us both the cause thereof depends;
In thee doth shine, in mee doth burne, a fire.
Fire drawes up other and it selfe ascends:
Thine eye a fire, and so drawes up my love;
My love a fire, and so ascends above.
xxiii
[Eyes curiouse to behold what nature can create]
Eyes curiouse to behold what nature can create,
Come see, come see, and write what wonder yow doe see.
Causing by true reporte our nexte posteritye
Curse Fortune for that they were borne so late.
Come see, come see, and write what wonder yow doe see.
Causing by true reporte our nexte posteritye
Curse Fortune for that they were borne so late.
Come then and come ye all; come soone, least that
The tyme should be to shorte and men to few should be:
For all be few to write her least part's historie,
Though they should ever write, and never write but that.
The tyme should be to shorte and men to few should be:
For all be few to write her least part's historie,
Though they should ever write, and never write but that.
Millions looke on her eyes, millions thinke on her witte,
Millions speake of her, millions write of her hand,
The whole eye or the lip I doe not understand,
Millions to few to prayse but some one part of it.
As eyther of her eye or lip or hand to write,
The light or blacke, the tast or red, the soft or white.
Millions speake of her, millions write of her hand,
The whole eye or the lip I doe not understand,
Millions to few to prayse but some one part of it.
As eyther of her eye or lip or hand to write,
The light or blacke, the tast or red, the soft or white.
xxiv
[Ladie! in beautie and in favour rare]
Ladie! in beautie and in favour rare,
Of favour (not of due) I favour crave;
Nature to thee beauty and favour gave;
Faire then thou art, and favour thou maist spare;
Of favour (not of due) I favour crave;
Nature to thee beauty and favour gave;
Faire then thou art, and favour thou maist spare;
Nor when on mee bestow'd your favours are,
Lesse favour in your face you shall not have;
If favour then a wounded soule may save,
Of murther's guilt (deare Lady) then beware.
Lesse favour in your face you shall not have;
If favour then a wounded soule may save,
Of murther's guilt (deare Lady) then beware.
My losse of life a million fold were lesse
Than the least losse should unto you befall;
Yet graunt this gyft; which gift when I possesse,
Both I have life, and you no losse at all.
For by your favour onely I doe live;
And favour you may well both keepe and give.
Than the least losse should unto you befall;
Yet graunt this gyft; which gift when I possesse,
Both I have life, and you no losse at all.
For by your favour onely I doe live;
And favour you may well both keepe and give.
xxv
[Ladie of ladies, the delight alone]
Ladie of ladies, the delight alone
For which to heaven earth doth no envie beare;
Seeing and hearing thee we see and heare
Such voice, such light, as never sunge nor shone.
For which to heaven earth doth no envie beare;
Seeing and hearing thee we see and heare
Such voice, such light, as never sunge nor shone.
The want of heaven, I grant, yet we may moane,
Not for the pleasure of the angells there,
As though in face or voyce they like thee were,
But that they many bee and thow but one.
Not for the pleasure of the angells there,
As though in face or voyce they like thee were,
But that they many bee and thow but one.
The basest notes which from thy voyce proceed
The treble of the angells doe exceed.
So that I feare theyre quire to beautifie,
Lest thow to some in heaven shall singe & shine;
Loe! when I heare thee singe, the reason why
Sighes of my breast keepe tyme with notes of thine.
The treble of the angells doe exceed.
So that I feare theyre quire to beautifie,
Lest thow to some in heaven shall singe & shine;
Loe! when I heare thee singe, the reason why
Sighes of my breast keepe tyme with notes of thine.
xxvi
[Not that thy hand is soft, is sweete, is white]
Not that thy hand is soft, is sweete, is white,
Thy lippes sweet roses, breast sweet lylye is,
That love esteemes these three the chiefest blisse
Which nature ever made for lipps' delight;
Thy lippes sweet roses, breast sweet lylye is,
That love esteemes these three the chiefest blisse
Which nature ever made for lipps' delight;
But when these three, to shew theyre heavenlye might,
Such wonders doe, devotion then for this
Commandeth us with humble zeale to kisse
Such thinges as worke miracles in oure sight.
Such wonders doe, devotion then for this
Commandeth us with humble zeale to kisse
Such thinges as worke miracles in oure sight.
A lute of senselesse woode, by nature dumbe,
Toucht by her hand doth speak devinelye well;
And from thy lips and breast sweet tunes doe come
To my dead hearte, the which new life doe give.
Of greater wonders heard we never tell
Then for the dumbe to speak, the dead to live.
Toucht by her hand doth speak devinelye well;
And from thy lips and breast sweet tunes doe come
To my dead hearte, the which new life doe give.
Of greater wonders heard we never tell
Then for the dumbe to speak, the dead to live.
xxvii
[Sweete Soveraigne! sith so many minds remaine]
Sweete Soveraigne! sith so many minds remaine
Obedient subjects at thy beauty's call,
So many harts bound in thy haires as thrall,
So many eyes die with one look's disdaine;
Obedient subjects at thy beauty's call,
So many harts bound in thy haires as thrall,
So many eyes die with one look's disdaine;
Goe seeke the honour that doth thee pertaine,
That the fift Monarchie may thee befall;
Thou hast such meanes to conquer men withall,
As all the world must yeeld or els be slaine.
That the fift Monarchie may thee befall;
Thou hast such meanes to conquer men withall,
As all the world must yeeld or els be slaine.
To fight thou need'st no weapons but thine eyes;
Thine haire hath gold enough to pay thy men;
And for their foode thy beauty will suffise,
For men and armour (Lady) care have none;
For one will sooner yeeld unto thee then
When he shall meete thee naked all alone.
Thine haire hath gold enough to pay thy men;
And for their foode thy beauty will suffise,
For men and armour (Lady) care have none;
For one will sooner yeeld unto thee then
When he shall meete thee naked all alone.
xxviii
[When beautie to the world vouchsafes this blisse]
When beautie to the world vouchsafes this blisse,
To shew the one whose other there is not,
The whitest skinnes red blushing shame doth blot,
And in the reddest cheekes pale envie is.
To shew the one whose other there is not,
The whitest skinnes red blushing shame doth blot,
And in the reddest cheekes pale envie is.
The fayre and fowle come thus alike by this;
For when the sun hath oure horizon gott,
Venus her selfe doth shine no more (God wot)
Then the least starre that take the light from his.
For when the sun hath oure horizon gott,
Venus her selfe doth shine no more (God wot)
Then the least starre that take the light from his.
The poore in beautie thus content remayne
To see theyre jealouse cause reveng'd in thee,
And theyre fayre foes afflicted with the payne;
Loe, the cleare proofe of thy devinitye!
For unto God is only dew this prayse:
The highest to pluck downe, the low to rayse.
To see theyre jealouse cause reveng'd in thee,
And theyre fayre foes afflicted with the payne;
Loe, the cleare proofe of thy devinitye!
For unto God is only dew this prayse:
The highest to pluck downe, the low to rayse.
xxix
[Falsly doth envie of your praises blame]
Falsly doth envie of your praises blame
My tongue, my pen, my hart, of flattery;
Because I said there was no sunne but thee,
It call'd my tongue the partiall trumpe of Fame;
My tongue, my pen, my hart, of flattery;
Because I said there was no sunne but thee,
It call'd my tongue the partiall trumpe of Fame;
And saith my pen hath flattered thy name,
Because my pen did to my tongue agree;
And that my hart must needs a flattrer bee,
Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.
Because my pen did to my tongue agree;
And that my hart must needs a flattrer bee,
Which taught both tongue and pen to say the same.
No, no, I flatter not, when thee I call
The sunne, sith that the sunne was never such;
But when the sunne thee I compar'd withall
Doubtles the sunne I flattered too much.
Witnes mine eyes, I say the trueth in this:
They have seene thee, and know that so it is.
The sunne, sith that the sunne was never such;
But when the sunne thee I compar'd withall
Doubtles the sunne I flattered too much.
Witnes mine eyes, I say the trueth in this:
They have seene thee, and know that so it is.
xxx
[My Lady's presence makes the Roses red]
My Lady's presence makes the Roses red,
Because to see her lips they blush for shame;
The Lyllies' leaves (for envy) pale became,
And her white hands in them this envie bred.
Because to see her lips they blush for shame;
The Lyllies' leaves (for envy) pale became,
And her white hands in them this envie bred.
The Marigold the leaves abroad doth spred,
Because the sunne's and her power is the same;
The Violet of purple cullour came,
Di'd in the blood shee made my hart to shed.
Because the sunne's and her power is the same;
The Violet of purple cullour came,
Di'd in the blood shee made my hart to shed.
In briefe, all flowers from her their vertue take;
From her sweet breath their sweet smels do proceede;
The living heate which her eye beames doth make
Warmeth the grounde, & quickeneth the seede.
The raine wherewith shee watereth the flowers
Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers.
From her sweet breath their sweet smels do proceede;
The living heate which her eye beames doth make
Warmeth the grounde, & quickeneth the seede.
The raine wherewith shee watereth the flowers
Falls from mine eyes, which she dissolves in showers.
xxxi
[Sweet hand! the sweet but cruell bowe thou art]
Sweet hand! the sweet but cruell bowe thou art,
From whence at mee five yvorie arrowes flie;
So with five woundes at once I wounded lie,
Bearing my brest the print of every dart.
From whence at mee five yvorie arrowes flie;
So with five woundes at once I wounded lie,
Bearing my brest the print of every dart.
Saint Fraunces had the like, yet felt no smart,
Where I in living torments never die;
His woundes were in his hands and feete, where I
All these five helplesse wounds feele in my hart.
Where I in living torments never die;
His woundes were in his hands and feete, where I
All these five helplesse wounds feele in my hart.
Now (as Saint Fraunces) if a Saint am I,
The bowe that shot these shafts a relique is;
I meane the hand; which is the reason why
So many for devotion thee would kisse;
And some thy glove kisse, as a thing divine:
This arrowes' quiver, and this relique's shrine.
The bowe that shot these shafts a relique is;
I meane the hand; which is the reason why
So many for devotion thee would kisse;
And some thy glove kisse, as a thing divine:
This arrowes' quiver, and this relique's shrine.
xxxii
[The Fouler hides, (as closely as he may)]
The Fouler hides, (as closely as he may)
The net where caught the sillie bird should be;
Least he the threatning pryson should but see,
And so for feare be forc'd to flye away.
The net where caught the sillie bird should be;
Least he the threatning pryson should but see,
And so for feare be forc'd to flye away.
My Ladye so, the while shee doth assay
In curled knots fast to entangle me,
Puts on her vaile, to th' end I should not flee
The golden net wherein I am a pray.
In curled knots fast to entangle me,
Puts on her vaile, to th' end I should not flee
The golden net wherein I am a pray.
Alas (most sweet!) what neede is of a net
To catch a byrd that is already tame?
Sith with your hand alone you may it get,
For it desires to flie into the same;
What needes such arte, my thoughts then to intrap,
When of themselves they flye into your lap?
To catch a byrd that is already tame?
Sith with your hand alone you may it get,
For it desires to flie into the same;
What needes such arte, my thoughts then to intrap,
When of themselves they flye into your lap?
xxxiii
TO HIS MISTRISSE UPON THE OCCASION OF A PETRARCH HE GAVE HER.
Miracle of the world! I never will denye
That former poets prayse the beautie of theyre dayes;
But all those beauties were but figures of thy prayse,
And all those poets did of thee but prophecye.
That former poets prayse the beautie of theyre dayes;
But all those beauties were but figures of thy prayse,
And all those poets did of thee but prophecye.
Thy coming to the world hath taught us to descrie
What Petrarch's Laura meant, for truth the lips bewrayes,
Loe! why th' Italians, yet which never saw thy rayes,
To finde oute Petrarch's sence such forged glosses trye.
What Petrarch's Laura meant, for truth the lips bewrayes,
Loe! why th' Italians, yet which never saw thy rayes,
To finde oute Petrarch's sence such forged glosses trye.
The beauties which he in a vayle enclos'd beheld
But revelations were within his secreat heart,
By which in parables thy coming he foretold;
His songes were hymnes of thee, which only now before
Thy image should be sunge; for thou that goddesse art
Which onlye we withoute idolatrye adore.
But revelations were within his secreat heart,
By which in parables thy coming he foretold;
His songes were hymnes of thee, which only now before
Thy image should be sunge; for thou that goddesse art
Which onlye we withoute idolatrye adore.
xxxiv
[A friend of mine, pittying my hopelesse love]
A friend of mine, pittying my hopelesse love,
Hoping (by killing hope) my love to slay,
Let not (quoth he) thy hope thy hart betray,
Impossible it is her hart to move.
Hoping (by killing hope) my love to slay,
Let not (quoth he) thy hope thy hart betray,
Impossible it is her hart to move.
But, sith resolved love cannot remove
As long as thy divine perfections stay,
Thy Godhead then he sought to take away.
Deere! seeke revenge, and him a lyar prove;
As long as thy divine perfections stay,
Thy Godhead then he sought to take away.
Deere! seeke revenge, and him a lyar prove;
Gods onely doe impossibilities.
Impossible (saith he) thy grace to gaine.
Show then the power of thy divinities
By graunting me thy favour to obtaine;
So shall thy foe give to himselfe the lie,
A Goddesse thou shalt prove, and happy I.
Impossible (saith he) thy grace to gaine.
Show then the power of thy divinities
By graunting me thy favour to obtaine;
So shall thy foe give to himselfe the lie,
A Goddesse thou shalt prove, and happy I.
xxxv
[Faire Sunne! if you would have me praise your light]
Faire Sunne! if you would have me praise your light,
When night approcheth, wherefore doe you flie?
Time is so short, beauties so many be,
That I have neede to see them day and night;
When night approcheth, wherefore doe you flie?
Time is so short, beauties so many be,
That I have neede to see them day and night;
That by continuall view my verses might
Tell all the beames of your divinitie;
Which praise to you, and joy should be to mee:
You living by my verse, I by your sight.
Tell all the beames of your divinitie;
Which praise to you, and joy should be to mee:
You living by my verse, I by your sight.
I by your sight, but not you by my verse;
Neede mortall skill immortall praise rehearse?
No, no; though eyes were blinde, & verse were dumb,
Your beautie should be seene, & your fame known;
For by the winde which from my sighes doe come
Your praises round about the world be blowne.
Neede mortall skill immortall praise rehearse?
No, no; though eyes were blinde, & verse were dumb,
Your beautie should be seene, & your fame known;
For by the winde which from my sighes doe come
Your praises round about the world be blowne.
xxxvi
[The sunne, his journey ending in the West]
The sunne, his journey ending in the West,
Taking his lodging up in Thetis' bed,
Though from our eyes his beames he banished,
Yet with his light th' antipodes be blest.
Taking his lodging up in Thetis' bed,
Though from our eyes his beames he banished,
Yet with his light th' antipodes be blest.
Now when the sun-time brings my sunne to rest,
(Which mee too oft of rest hath hindered)
And whiter skinne with white sheetes covered,
And softer cheeke doth on soft pillow rest;
(Which mee too oft of rest hath hindered)
And whiter skinne with white sheetes covered,
And softer cheeke doth on soft pillow rest;
Then I (oh sunne of sunnes, and light of lights!)
Wish mee with those Antipodes to be,
Which see and feele thy beames and heate by nights,
Well though the night both cold and darksome is;
Yet halfe the day's delight the night graunts mee:
I feele my sunne's heate though his light I misse.
Wish mee with those Antipodes to be,
Which see and feele thy beames and heate by nights,
Well though the night both cold and darksome is;
Yet halfe the day's delight the night graunts mee:
I feele my sunne's heate though his light I misse.
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |