The Golden Aphroditis A pleasant discourse, penned by John Grange ... Whereunto be annexed by the same Authour asvvell certayne Metres upon sundry poyntes, as also divers Pamphlets in prose, which he entituleth His Garden: pleasant to the eare, and delightful to the Reader, if he abuse not the scente of the floures |
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I. G. biddeth his friende A. T. good morrovve.
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 | The Golden Aphroditis |  |
I. G. biddeth his friende A. T. good morrovve.
Ave madama, good morrow if it please.Bone iour ma mestresse did you lie at ease?
Dieu vou done bone iour, will nothing make you speake?
What rest haue you taken? your minde to me breake.
What nothing but mum? an Almon for parrot,
Speake Parrot I pray thee, may nothing be got?
Your pillow misliketh, else care hath forbid,
Your eyes to be sleepyng, while pleasure is hid.
Else saith Murcea, the sleepe is in thine eyes,
Disdayne else forbiddeth (through vanities cryes)
To bid me good morrowe, if harte will not breake,
Then say but Aueto: I like when you speake.
Comporte vou maddam? in French you doe excell.
Bien fire gramercy, this likes me very well.
Ie suis bien aise pour vou voye in bone sante:
I am glad to see that your breath is not fainte.
And sith that you speake, now for my god morrowe,
Ie vou prie de bon ceur, take this that I owe,
A verse tis or twayne, wherewith I meane to greete,
Your mornings firste flight as loue hath thought it meete.
Perliez bien ou perliez rien, you know my minde:
Nothing will I speake, whiche shall not seeme full kinde.
As hoarie Hyems froste, keepes backe with pining payne,
Eache braue delight, till Ver doth shewe hir face agayne:
Thy goyng so to bedde doth put my ioyes to flight,
Till mornyng doth appeare, wherefore I hate goodnight.
Disgrace the trees vntill returne of Ver hir bearth:
As naked seemes the trees whiche gallant were of hew:
So naked seemes the house when layde thou arte in mew.
Thy bedde is lyke thy graue, the earth presents the sheetes:
The frisking fleas are like, the wormes dead corpse which greetes.
But when the liuely sap creepes vp in blowing thorne,
And each delight doth seeme to laugh the frost to scorne:
As Ver most freshe of hue, sendes forth hir newe delightes,
With iust returne, and greetes vs all with pleasant sightes:
So doth Aurora seeme, his giftes for to bestowe,
Although to Lady Ver he be a gree belowe.
For as the spring delights each thing vpon the earth,
Whiche moueth them to wishe and call vpon hir bearth:
So doth the morne (me thinkes) vnclose and eke vnbinde,
Each thing whiche in the night, are closed in their kynde.
And nothing greenes me more, than when the night drawes on,
For then I know full well we sunder must anone.
And then in vayne I wishe the morne for aye remayne,
That then my pleasure loste I might enioy agayne.
For in the morne (me thinkes) I see the sap creepes vp,
Whiche to my will dothe seeke with ioyes to fill my cup.
As great is my delight to vewe thy comely face,
As is the birdes, to see the Lady Ver in place.
And eury morne by course doth shewe me thee agayne,
Whereas the night before vs parted hath in twayne.
The brydegrome in his course doth take no more delight,
Than I doe dayly take, of thee to haue a sight.
Aue I say therefore, I ioy to see thy face:
Aueto to reply, this poynt I aske of grace:
For whyle my life doth last, with thee my harte shall rest,
And for thy sake I will, all other choyce detest.
For sure it is in time, the brasen walles will starte,
And eke the water flouddes the craggy rockes will parte.
In time the watrishe droppes, we see doth perce the stone,
This salutation print it within thy brest,
And (as deserte deserues) therein so let it rest.
As tyme it trieth troth, so then repose thy trust,
I craue good will for aye, and not to serue my lust.
| The Golden Aphroditis | |