University of Virginia Library

ELEGIES

ELEGIE 1.

[Why did the milke which first, Alcides nurrish't]

Why did the milke which first, Alcides nurrish't
(Ingendring with Cybele) breede the lillye?
Th' Assiriā hunters bloud why hath it florish't
The rose with red? why did the Daffadillye
Spring from Narcissus selfe conceited loue?
Why did great Ioue (for the Pæneian cowe)
Deuise the marble colour'd vyolet?
Or what for Phoebus loue, from mountaines hyllye
Did Hyacinthe to rosie blushes moue?
Since my sweet mystresse vnder Phoebes browe,
Iunoes and fayre Adonis flowers hath set:
Adowne her necke Narcissus golde doth bowe,
Ioes gray violettes in her Christall lightes,
Th' Oebalian boyes complection still alightes
Vpon her Hyacinthine lippes like Rubye:
And with loues purest sanguine Cupid writes
The prayse of bewtie through the vaynes which blew bee,
Conducted through loues sluice to thy face rosie,
Where doues, and redbrestes sit for Venus rightes:
In signe that I to the will euer true bee,
The rose, and lillyes shall adorne my poasie:
The vyolettes, and Hyacinthe shall knitte
With Daphadill, which shall embellish it
Such heauenly flowers in earthly poases few bee.

ELEGIE II.

[Oh that some time thou saw myne endlesse fittes]

Oh that some time thou saw myne endlesse fittes,
When I haue somewhat of thy bewtie pondred!
Thou could not be perswaded that my wittes
Could once retire so farre from sence asondred,
Furies them selues haue at my passions wondred,
Yet thou (Parthenophe) well pleased sittes
Whilst in me so thy moystures heate hath thondred,
And thine eyes dartes at euery colon hittes
My soule with double prickes which myne hart splittes.
Whose faintyng breath with sighing commaes broken
Drawes on the sentence of my death by pawses:
Euer prolonging out myne endlesse clauses
With iffs Parenthesis, yet finde no token
When with my greefe, I should stand euen or odde:
My life still making preparations
Through thy loues dartes to beare the periodde,
Yet stumbleth on Interrogations.
These are those scholler like vexations
Which greeue me when those studies I applye.
I misse my lesson still, but with loues rodde
For each small accent sounded but awrye
Am I tormented, yet I can not dye.

ELEGIE III.

[Sweet thralldome by loues sweet impression wrought]

Sweet thralldome by loues sweet impression wrought,
Loues in that bondage euer let me liue,
For loue hath brought me bondslaue with a thought
And to my thoughtes loue did me bondman giue.
Ah me my thoughtes poore prisoner shall I rest?
And shall my thoughtes make triumph ouer mee?
First to fierce famish't Lyons stand adrest,
Or let huge rockes, and mountaines couer thee.
Behold, one to his fancies made a praye,
A poore Actæon with his houndes deuour'd,
An oke with his greene Iuy worne awaye,
A wretch consum' with plenties great downe powr'd:
A garment with his moath, dispoyl'd, and rotten:
A thorne with his bred Caterpiller cancerd,
A buried Cæsar, with his fame forgotten,
A friend betrayd by those on whom he ancer'd,
Behold a fire consum'd with his owne heate,
An iron worne away with his owne rust,
But weare myne hart of oke, this rage would eate
Still fresh as Iuy myne hard oke to dust,
And were my pleasures durable as steele,
Dispaire would force they should times cancor feele.

ELEGIE IIII.

[This day sweet mistresse you to me did write]

This day sweet mistresse you to me did write,
(When for so many lynes I begg'd reply all)
That from all hope you would not barre me quite,
Nor graunt plaine placet, nor giue dead deny all:
But in my chamber window (while I read it)
A waspish bee flew round about me buzzing,
With fulfill'd flankes, when my tymes flower had fed it
(Which there lay strew'd) and in my necke with huzzing
She fixt her sting, then did I take her out
And in my window left her where she died:
My necke still smartes, and swelleth round about
By which her wrathes deare ran some may be tryed
A myrrour to (thee Lady) which I send
In this small schoede, with commendations tyed
Who (though the sting and anguish stay with mee)
Yet for reuenge saw his vnluckie ende)
Then note th' example of this haplesse bee,
And when to me thou doest thy sting intende.
Feare some such punishment should chance to thee.

ELEGIE V. To Parthenophil.

Are you so waspish, that from time, to time
You nurrish bees and to so good an ende,
That hauing suck't your honnie they must clyme
Into your bosome, to bethanke their frend:
And for a signe, that they come to defend
Reward you with such weapons as they haue:
Nor was it more then your desartes did craue
Not much vnlike vnto the Vipers yongling,
Who nurrish't with the breeders dearest bloud
Snarles with his teeth, nor can endure the bongling
Within the Vipers belly, but makes food
Of her, thus nature worketh in her brood:
So you (forsooth) nor was it much amisse,
Feede snakes which thankefully both sting, and hisse.
But if that any of our sexe did sting you,
Know this (moreouer) though you beare the pricke,
And though their frownes to melancholie bring you
Yet are we seldome, or else neuer sicke:
Nor do we dye like bees, but still be quicke
And soone recouering what we lost before,
We sting apace, yet still keepe stinges in store.

ELEGIE VI.

Behold these teares my loues true tribute payment,
These plaintiffe Elegies my greefes bewrayers,
Acoutred as is meete in mournefull rayment:
My red-swolne eyne, which were mine harts betrayers.
And yet my rebell eye excuse prepaires
That he was neuer worker of my wayment,
Plaining my thoughtes, that my confusion they ment:
VVhich thoughtes with sighes (for incense) make dumme prayers,
T'appease the furies in my martyr'd brest,
VVhich witnesse my true loues, in long lament,
And with what agonies I am possest.
Ah me poore man, where shall I finde some rest!
Not in thine eyes with promise fearefull hope,
Thine hart hath vow'd I shall be still distrest,
To rest within thine hart there is no scope.
All other places, made for bodies ease
As bed, field, forrest, and a quiet chamber,
There euer am I with sad cares opprest,
Each pleasaunt spectacle doth me displease,
Greefe, and dispaire so sore on me did sease
That day with tediousnesse doth me molest
And (Phoebe carryed in her coach of Amber)
Can not close vp the fountaines of my woe:
Thus dayes from nightes my charg'd hart doth not know,
Nor nightes from dayes, all howers to sorrowes goe:
Then punish fancie, cause of thy disease.

ELEGIE VII.

Youth full of errour, whether doest thou hayle me?
Downe to the dungeon of myne owne conceite:
Let me before take some deuine receite,
For will I know my gaoler will not bayle me:
Then if thou fauour not, all helpes will fayle me,
That fearefull dungeon poysoned with dispaire
Affordes no casement to receaue sweet ayer,
There ougly visions euer will apayle me
Vayne youth misguideth soone with loues deceite
Deeming false painted lookes most firmely fayre.
Now to remorselesse iudges must I sewe
For gracious pardon, whiles they do repeate
Your bold presumption, threatning me with you:
Yet am I innocent, though none bewayle me.
Ah pardon, pardon, childish youth did vew
Those two forbidden apples which they wish't for,
And children long for that with once the rew.
Suffice he found repentance which he fish't for
With great expence of bates, and golden hookes.
Those liuing apples do the suite pursue
And are you Iudges, see their angry lookes
VVhere vnderneath that wrath-full Canopie
The vse to open their condemning bookes:
Expect now nothing but extremitie,
Since they be Iudges, and in their owne cause.
Their sightes are fixte on nought but crueltie,
Ruling with rigour (as they list) their lawes
Oh graunt some pittie, plac'd in pitties hall!
Since our forefather for the like offence
With vs receiu'd sufficient recompence,
For two fayre apples, which procur'd his fall:

ELEGIE VIII.

Cease sorrow, cease, oh cease thy rage alittle,
Ah litle ease, oh graunt some little ease:
Oh fortune euer constante, neuer brittle!
For as thou gan so doest thou still displease.
Ah ceaselesse sorrow, take some truice with mee,
Remorselesse tyrantes, sometime will take peace
(Vpon conditions) and I'le take of thee
Conditions, so thou wilt thy furie cease.
And deare conditions, for to forfect life
So thou wilt ende thy plagues, and vexe no more.
But out alas! he will not cease his strife
Least he should loose his priuiledge before:
For were I dead, my sorrowes rule were nought,
And whiles I liue, he like a tyrant rageth:
Ah rage fierce tyrant, for this greefe is wrought
By loue thy counsell which my minde ingageth.
To thy fierce thralldome, whiles he spoyles myne hart,
So be my minde, and hart imprisoned fast,
To two fierce tyrantes, which this empyer part.
Oh mylder goddes shall this for euer last,
If that I haue these bitter plagues deseru'de,
Yet let repentance which my soule doth melt
Obtaine some fauour, if you be not sueru'de
From lawes of mercy, know what plagues I felt.
Yea but I doubt inchantment in my brest,
For neuer man, so much agreeu'd as I
Could liue with ceaselesse sorrowes weight opprest,
But twentie thousand times perforce should dye:
And with her eyes she did bewitche mine hart,
Which lettes it liue, but feele an endlesse smart.

ELEGIE IX.

With humble suite vpon my bended knee,
(Though absent farre from hence not to be seene)
Yet in thy power still present as goddes bee
I speake these wordes, whose bleeding woundes be greene,
To thee drad Cupid, and thy mother Queene:
If it at any time hath lawfull beene
Men mortall to speake with adietie,
Oh you great guiders of yong springing age,
VVhose power immortall euer was I weene
(As mightie as your spatious Monarchie)
Oh spare me, spare my tedious pilgrimage!
Take hence the least brand of your extreame fiers,
Do not gainst those (which yeelde) fierce battell wage:
I know by this, you will alaye your rage,
That you giue life vnto my long desiers,
VVhich still persuades me, you will pittie take:
Life is farre more, then my vext soule desiers:
Oh take my life, and after death torment mee,
Then (though in absence of my cheefe delight)
I shall lament alone, my soule requires,
And longes to visite sweet Elizian fieldes:
Then that I lou'd it neuer shall repent me,
There (till those dayes of Iubile shall comme)
VVould I walke pensiue, pleas'd, alone and dumme:
Graunt this petition sweet loues Queene which weeldes
The hart of forlorne louers euermore:
Or else Zanclæan Charibd me deuoure,
And through his waters sent to Stigian power,
Or patient let me burne in Aetnaes flame:
Or fling my selfe in furie from the shore
Into deepe waues of the Leucadean god,
Rather then beare this tumulte and vproare,
And through your meanes be scourg'd with mine owne rod:
Oh let me dye, and not endure the same:
The suite I make, is to be punish't still,
Nor would I wish not to be wretched there,
But that I might remaine in hope, and feare:
Sweet louely saintes, let my suite like your will.

ELEGIE X.

In quiet silence of the shadie night,
All places free from noyse of men, and dogges,
When Phoebe caried in her chariot bright
Had clear'd the mistie vapours, and night fogges:
Then (when no care the quiet shepheard clogges,
Hauing his flocke safe fodder'd in the fould)
A liuely vision to my fancies sight
Appear'd, which me thought wake I did behould,
A fierie boye, outmatching the moone light,
VVho softly wispering in mine eare, had tould
There thou thy fayre Parthenophe may see:
I quickly turning, in an hebene bedde,
VVith sable couering and blacke curtanes spredde,
VVith many little loues in blacke by thee,
Thee thee Parthenophe left almost dedde
(Paile cold, with feare) I did behold ay mee!
Ah me! left almost sencelesse in my bed:
My groanes perceiu'd by those which neare me lay,
By them with much ado recouered:
VVhich fearefull vision so did me afray
That (in a furie set beside my witte)
Sicke as before, me thought I saw thee yitt:
Venus thy face there couered with a vayle,
Mine hart with horror chilles, to thinke on it:
The graces kist thy lippes and went away.
Then I with furious raging did assaile
To kisse thee, least thou should depart before,
And then (in sight of those which there did stand)
Thinking that I should neuer see thee more,
Mistaking thee, I kist a fire-brande:
Burnt with the fire (my sences which did fayle
Freshly recall'd into their wittes againe)
I found it was a dreame, but sweet expound it,
For that strange dreame, with teares renewes my paine,
And I shall neuer rest, till I haue found it.

ELEGIE XI.

VVas it decreed by fates too certaine doome,
That vnder Cancer's Tropique (where the Sunne
Still doth his race in hottest circuite runne)
My minde should dwell, and in none other roome,
Where comfortes all be burnt, before the bloome?
Was it concluded (by remorse-lesse fate)
That vnder-neath Th' Erimanthian beare,
Beneath the Lycaenian Axel-tree,
(Where ceaselesse snowes and frostes extremitie
Hold Iurisdiction) should remaine my feare,
VVhere all mine hopes be nip'te, before the beare?
VVas it thus ordred that (till my deathes date)
VVhen Phoebus runnes on our Meridian lyne,
VVhen mistes fall downe beneath our Hemi-sphoere,
And Cynthia with darke Antipod's doth shine,
That my dispaier should hold his mansion there?
Where did the fatall sisters this assigne?
Euen when this Iudgement to them was awarded,
The silent sentence issew'd from her eyne,
Which neither pittie, nor my cares regarded.

ELEGIE XII.

Oh neuer can I see that sunnie light,
That bright contriuer of my fierie rage,
Those precious golden apples shinning bright,
But out alas, me thinckes some fearefull sight
Should battell with the deare beholders wage.
I feare such pretious thinges should haue some force
Them to preserue, lest some beholders might
Procure those precious apples by their slight:
Then cruell Atlas banisht from remorse
Enters my thoughtes, and how be fear'de away.
The poore inhabitantes which dwelt about
(Least some af his rich fruite should make a pray)
Although the Orchard, circummur'de throughout
With walles of steele was, and a vigil stoute
Of watchfull Dragons guarded euery where,
Which bold attemptors vext with hot pursuite,
So that none durst approch his fruite for feare.
Thus (Atlas-like) thine hart hath Dragons set
Tyrannous hatred, and a proud disdaine,
Which in that Orchard cruellie did raine,
And with much rigour rule thy louely eyes,
Immur'd in steelie walles of chaste desier,
Which entrance to poore passengers denyes,
And deathes high daunger to them that requier:
And euen as Atlas (through fierce crueltie
And breache to lawes of hospitalitie
When lodging to a straunger he denied)
Was turned to a stonie mountaine straight,
Which on his shoulders now support's heauens waight,
A iust reuenge for crueltie and pride:
Euen so, thine hart (for inhumanitie,
And wrath to those that thine eyes apples loue,
And that it will not lodge a louely guest)
Is turn'd to rocke, and doth the burthen beare
Of thousand zealous louers deare complaintes:
Whom thou with thy fierce crueltie diost teare,
An huge hard rocke, which none can euer moue
And of whose fruite, no man can be possest:
Thy golden smiles make none attemp'ts to deare,
But when attempted once those apples bee,
The vayne attemptour, after feeles the smart:
Who by thy Dragons, hatred, and disdaine
Are torne in sonder, with extremitie:
For hauing entred, no man can get forth
(So those inchaunting apples hinder thee)
Of such deare prize, be things of such rare worth.
But euen as Perseus, Ioues thrise valiant sonne
(Begot of Danae in a golden shower)
Huge Atlas conquer'd, when he first begonne:
Then kill'd the Dragons with his matchlesse power,
At length the bewteous golden apples wonne:
So right is he borne in a golden hower,
(And for his fortune may from Ioue discend)
Who first thine hart an Atlas hath subdue'd,
Next, hatred, and disdaine brought to their end
Fierce Dragons, which attemptours all purseu'de,
And which before, none euer haue eschew'de:
At length, who shall these golden apples gaine,
He shall alone, be Perseus for his paine.

ELEGIE XIII.

Swift Atalanta (when she lost the prise
By gathering golden apples in her race)
Shewes how by th' apples of thine heauenly eyes,
(Which fortune did before my passage place
When for mine hartes contentement I did runne)
How I was hindred, and my wager lost:
When others did the wagers worth surprise
I vew'de thine eyes, thus eyes vew'de to my cost,
Nor could I them enioy when all was donne,
But seeming (as they did) bright as the Sunne,
My course I stayd, to vewe their fierie grace,
Whose sweet possession I could not comprise:
Th' Idæan shepheard (when the strife begunne
Amongst three goddesses) as Iudge decreede,
The golden apple Venus did awarde,
Cause of the wast, and downefall of proud Troye;
But when the graces had a sweet regard
How fayre Parthenophe did her exceede,
And Venus now was from the world debarr'd
One so much fayrer farre, as to much coye,
Parthenophe the chose in Venus fleede,
And since her bewtie Venus did out goe
Two golden apples were to her assigned:
Which apples all th' outrageous tumultes breede
That are hep'd vp in my distressed minde.
Whose figure in enflamed Troye I finde,
The cheefe occasion of mine endlesse woe.

ELEGIE XIIII.

[When I remember that accursed night]

When I remember that accursed night,
When my deare bewtie said she must depart,
And the next morning leaue the Cities sight:
Ah then, euen then blacke sorrow shew'de his might,
And plac'd his empyer in my vanquish't hart:
Mine hart still vanquish't, yet assaulted still,
Burnt with loues out-rage, from whose cleare torch light
Fierce sorrow findes, a way to spoile, and kill.
Ah sorrow, sorrow, neuer satisfied!
And if not satisfied, worke on thy will:
Oh deare departure of mine onely blisse!
When willing, from the Citie thou did ryde,
And I made offer (tho then wounded wyde)
To go with thee, thou rashly didst refuse
With me distrest to be accompanied:
And binding wordes (imperious) did'st vse
Commaunding me an other way to chuse.
Ah then, euen then in spirite crucified,
Mine eyes with teares, mine hart with sighes, and throbbes:
Those almost blind, that hard swolne almost burst,
My braynes abiuring harbour to my muse,
Did leaue me choaked almost with straite sobbes,
Ah be that hower, and day for euer curst
Which me of my lifes libertie did robbe:
For since that time I neuer saw my loue,
Long can we not be seuer'd, I will follow
Through woods, through mountaines, waues, and caues made hollow
Oh greefe, of greefes extremitie the worst!
Still will I follow, till I finde thee out:
And if my wish with trauell will not proue,
Yet shall my sorrowes trauell round about
In wailefull Elegies, and mournefull verse
Vntill they finde, and thee with pittie perce:
Meane while to see thee more standing in doubt.
I'le sing my plaine-song with the Turtle doue;
And prick-song with the Nighting all rehearse.

ELEGIE XV.

[Oh deare remembraunce of my Ladyes eyes]

Oh deare remembraunce of my Ladyes eyes
In minde whose reuolutions I reuolue!
To you mine harts bright guid-starres, my soule cryes
Vpon some happy sentence to resolue:
A sentence either of my life, or death,
So bale me from the dungeon of dispaire,
On you I cry with interrupted breathe,
On you, and none but you to crosse my care:
My care to crosse, least I be crucified
Aboue the patience of an humaine soule,
Do this, Ah this, and still be glorified:
Do this, and let eternities enroule
Thy fame, and name, let them enroule for euer
In lasting recordes of still lasting steele:
Do this, ah this and famous still perseuer,
Which in another age thy ghost shall feele.
Yet (howsoeuer thou with me shall deale)
Thy bewtie shall perseuer in my verse:
And thine eyes wounde, which thine hart would not heale:
And my complaintes, which could not thine hart perce:
And thine hard hart, thy bewties shamefull staine:
And that fowle staine, thine endlesse infamie:
So (though thou still in recorde do remaine)
The recordes reckon but thine obloquie,
When on the paper (which my passionbeares)
Relenting readers (for my sake) shed teares.

ELEGIE XVI.

[Ah were my teares (as many writers bee)]

Ah were my teares (as many writers bee)
Meere droppes of incke proceeding from my penne,
Then in these sable weedes you should not see
Me seuer'd from societie of men:
Ah me all colours do mine eyes displease,
Saue those two colours, of pure white, and redde,
And yet I dare not florish it in these,
Because I can not, for my colour's dead.
Those colours florish round about each where,
But cheefely with my mistresse in their kinde,
And fayne I would her louely colours weare
So that it might be pleasing to her minde:
But nought will please her ouer-cruell eye,
But blacke, and payle on body, and in face:
Then she triumphes in bewties tyrannie,
When she sees bewtie, bewtie can disgrace.
When her sweet smiling eyes, drye Vestues thronne,
Can blubber'd bleare-eyes drowne in seaes of teares:
And laughes to here poore louers how they moane,
Ioyes in the paper which her prayses beares,
And (for his sake that sent) that schœdule teares:
What but pale enuie doth her hart assaile)
When she would be still fayre, add laugh alone,
And (for her sake) all other's mourne, and paile.

ELEGIE XVII.

[Deare mistresse then my soule to me much dearer]

Deare mistresse then my soule to me much dearer,
Wonder not that another writes my letter:
For sorrow still mine hart oppresseth nearer,
And extreame sicknesse doth my sinewes fetter.
Of my deare life to thy loue am I debter.
Thine is my soule, then soule what can be meerer:
Thine my cheefe best, then that what can better?
Absented farre, and (that which is farre worse)
Vnable either for to goe, or ryde,
Here am I in perpetuall bondage tyed,
Then if with saluage Sauromates, farre worse:
This ayer is loath-some, and this ayer I curse,
Because with thy sweet breathe it is not blest.
Though hot, coole waters I can not abide
(Since the which thy cleare eyes as all the rest)
Be not (as they sometimes were) purified.
The ground (I tread) my footing doth infest:
Because it is not hallowed with thy feete.
I loath all meate, for all meate is vnmeete
Which is not eaten, where thy sweet selfe feedest.
Nothing is pleasaunt, louely, rich, or sweete,
Which doth not with his grace thy bewtie greete:
Ah too deare absence which this sicknesse breedest,
Of thy deare sweet, which can not be too deare.
Yet if thou wilt voutch-safe my life to saue
Write but one lyne, oue lyne my life will cheare:
The ransome of my life thy name will pay,
And I be freede from my much doubtfull feare.

ELEGIE XVIII.

[If neither loue, nor pittie can procure]

If neither loue, nor pittie can procure
Thy ruthlesse hart subscribe to my content:
But if thou vow that I shall still endure
This doubtfull feare which euer doth torment.
If to thine eyes thine hart can lend a fier,
Whiles could disdaine vpon them settes a locke:
To barre forth pittie which kinde harts desier,
Whiles the distrest make prayers to a rocke.
If that thine eyes send out a sunnie smile,
From vnderneath a cloudie frowne of hate:
Plaine loue with counterfeasance to beguile,
Which at thy windowes for some grace awate.
If thou thine eares can open to thy prayse,
And them with that report delighted, cherish:
And shut them, when the passionate assayes,
To pleade for pittie, then about to perish.
If thou canst cherish graces in thy cheeke,
For men to wonder at, which thee behold:
And they finde furies, when thine hart they seeke,
And yet proue such, as are extreamely cold.
Now as I finde, no thought to mans conceipt,
Then must I sweare, to womans no deceit.

ELEGIE XIX.

[Deare sorrow giue me leaue to breathe a while]

Deare sorrow giue me leaue to breathe a while,
A little leaue to take a longer breath:
Whose easie passage still thou doest beguile
Choak'd vp with sighes, proclamers of my death.
Oh let the teares of euer-thirstie eyes.
Returne backe to the channells of mine hart!
They to my sight be vowed enemies,
And made a trayterous league not to depart,
Vnder the colour of tormenting those
Which were first causers of mine harts distresse,
And closely with mine hart by guile did close
Through blinding them to make my torment lesse.
Oh let those fearefull thoughtes which still oppresse me
Turne to the dungeon of my troubled brayne!
Dispaire t'accompanie, which doth possesse me,
And with his venome poisoneth euery vayne:
Ouglie dispaire, who with blacke force assaultes
Me vanquisht with conceipt, and makes me dwell
With horrour, match't in melancholies vaultes:
Where I lye burning in my fancies hell.
Oh thou drad ruler of my sorrowes rage,
Of thee, and none but thee I begge remorse
VVith thy sweet breath thou may my sighes asswage,
And make my sorrowes fountaines stay their course,
And banish blacke dispaire, then helpe me now:
Or know, death can do this, as well as thou.

ELEGIE XX.

[Oh deare vexation of my troubled soule]

Oh deare vexation of my troubled soule
My life with greefe when wilt thou consummate?
The deare remembrance of my passing soule,
Mine hart with some restes hope doth animate:
How many haue those conquering eyes subdued?
How many vanquish't captiues to thine hart!
Hard-iron harted Captaines when they vew'de
VVere drawne, till they were wounded with thy dart.
Oh when I there heard bodies haue beheld,
Their martiall stomaches, and oft wounded face:
Which bitter tumultes, and garboyles foretell'd,
In which, it seem'd they founde no cowardes place
Then I recall'd how farre loues power exceedes
Aboue the bloudie menace of rough warre:
Where euery wounded hart, close inward bleedes
And soddeine perc'd, with twinckling of a starre.
Then (when such iron harted Captaines bee
To thine harts bulwarke forced for to trye
Which way to winne that sort by batterye:
And how all conquerours their conquer'd lye)
Me thinkes, thine hart, or else thine eyes be made
(Because they can such iron obiectes force)
Of hardest Adamante, that men (which lade
Continuall siege) be thrall'd without remorse:
Thine hart of Adamant, because it takes
The hardest harts drawne prisoners vnto thine,
Thine eye because, it wonded many makes,
Yet no transpercing beames can pearce those eyne:
Thine hart of Adamant, which none can wound:
Thine eye of Adamant, vnperced found.

ELEGIE XXI.

[Happie depart with speede, then me more fortunate euer]

Happie depart with speede, then me more fortunate euer
Poore letter go thy wayes, vnto my sweet Ladyes hands:
She shall looke on thee, and then with her bewtifull eyes blesse:
Smiling eyes (perhaps thee to delight with a glaunce)
She shall cast on a lyne (if a lyne there pleaseth her humour)
But if a lyne displease, then shall apeare in a frowne,
How much she dislikes thy loues, and saucie salutings:
O my lifes sweet light, know that a frowne of thine eye
Can transpearce to my soule more swift then a Parthian arrow,
And more deepely wound then any launce, or a speare:
But thy sweet smiles can procure such contrary mot'ions,
Which can alone that heale, wounded afore by thine eyes:
Like to the launces rust which heal'de whome warlike Achilles
(With right hand valiant) doughtilye wounded afore.
Not vnlike to the men, whose greefe the Scorpion helpeth
(Whom he before did sting) ready to dye thorow paine:
Thou that bewtie procures to be thy chastities hand mayde,
With vertues regiment glorious ordred alone:
Thou that those smooth browes, like plates of Iuory plained
(When any looke on them) canst make apeare like a cloude:
Thou that those cleare eyes (whose light surpasseth a stars light,
Canst make loues flames shoote, with cruel anger abroad:
Thou that those fayre cheekes (when a man thy bewtie beholdeth)
Deepely to wound canst make, sweetely to blush like a rose.
Make thy browes (to delight mine hart) smooth shadow thy cleare eyes:
Whose smile is to my soule like to the sunne frō a cloude
When he shines to the world in most pride after a tempest,
And with his heate prouokes all the delightes of the ground.
Graunt me sweet Lady this, this graunt, kinde pittie requesteth
Teares and sighes make asuite, pittie me, pittie my suite:
Thus to thy sweet graces will I leaue my drcerye bewaylings,
And to thy gracious hart; I recomend my lamentes:
Thrise blessed go thy way, to my deare go thrise speedie letter,
And for me kisse them, since I may not kisse her hands.

CANZON 1.

[All bewties farre perfections rest in thee]

THE FIRST EIDILLION of moschus describing Loue.