 | A Margarite of America |  |
Humanæ Miseriæ discursus.
O whereof boasteth man, or by what reason
Is filthy clay so much ambitious?
Whose thoughts are vaine, and alter euery season
Whose deedes are damned, base, and vitious,
Who in his cradle by his childish crying
Presageth his mishaps and sorrowes nying.
Is filthy clay so much ambitious?
Whose thoughts are vaine, and alter euery season
Whose deedes are damned, base, and vitious,
Who in his cradle by his childish crying
Presageth his mishaps and sorrowes nying.
An infant first from nurces teat he sucketh
With nutriment corruption of his nature:
And from the roote of endlesse errour plucketh
That taste of sinne that waites on euery creature,
And as his sinewes firme his sinne increaseth,
And but till death his sorrow neuer ceaseth.
With nutriment corruption of his nature:
And from the roote of endlesse errour plucketh
That taste of sinne that waites on euery creature,
And as his sinewes firme his sinne increaseth,
And but till death his sorrow neuer ceaseth.
In riper yeares when youthly courage raineth,
A winters blast of fortunes lowring changes,
A flattering hope wherein no trust remaineth,
A fleeting loue his forward ioy estranges:
Atchiue he wealth, with wastefull wo he bought it,
Let substance faile, he grieues, and yet he sought it.
A winters blast of fortunes lowring changes,
A flattering hope wherein no trust remaineth,
A fleeting loue his forward ioy estranges:
Atchiue he wealth, with wastefull wo he bought it,
Let substance faile, he grieues, and yet he sought it.
In staied yeares when as he seekes the gleanings
Of those his times in studious Artes bestowed,
In summe, he oft misconstrueth wise-mens meanings.
Soiling the spring from whence his science flowed,
In all he gaines by perfect iudgement gained,
A hate of life that hath so long remained.
Of those his times in studious Artes bestowed,
In summe, he oft misconstrueth wise-mens meanings.
Soiling the spring from whence his science flowed,
In all he gaines by perfect iudgement gained,
A hate of life that hath so long remained.
From height of throne to abiect wretchednesse,
From woonderous skill to seruile ignorance:
From court to cart, from rich to rechlesnesse,
The ioyes of life haue no continuance:
The king, the caitife wretch, the lay, the learned.
Their crowns, woes, wants, & wits with griefe haue erned.
From woonderous skill to seruile ignorance:
From court to cart, from rich to rechlesnesse,
The ioyes of life haue no continuance:
The king, the caitife wretch, the lay, the learned.
Their crowns, woes, wants, & wits with griefe haue erned.
The Iudgement seate hath brawles, honour is hated,
The souldiers life is dayly thrall to danger,
The marchants bag by tempests is abated,
His stocke still serues for prey to euery stranger,
The scholler with his knowledge learnes repent,
Thus each estate in life hath discontent.
The souldiers life is dayly thrall to danger,
The marchants bag by tempests is abated,
His stocke still serues for prey to euery stranger,
The scholler with his knowledge learnes repent,
Thus each estate in life hath discontent.
And in these trades and choice estates of liuing,
Youth steales on manly state, and it on age,
And age with weakned limmes, and mind misgiuing,
With trembling tongue repenteth youthly rage,
And ere he full hath learnd his life to gouerne,
He dies, and dying doth to dust returne.
Youth steales on manly state, and it on age,
And age with weakned limmes, and mind misgiuing,
With trembling tongue repenteth youthly rage,
And ere he full hath learnd his life to gouerne,
He dies, and dying doth to dust returne.
His greatest good is, to report the trouble
Which he in prime of youth hath ouerpassed,
How for his graines of good he reapt but stubble,
How lost by loue, by follies hew disgraced,
Which whilst he counts, his sonne perhaps attendeth,
And yet his dayes in selfe like follies endeth.
Which he in prime of youth hath ouerpassed,
How for his graines of good he reapt but stubble,
How lost by loue, by follies hew disgraced,
Which whilst he counts, his sonne perhaps attendeth,
And yet his dayes in selfe like follies endeth.
Thus mortall life on sodaine vanisheth,
All like a dreame, or as the shadow fleeteth,
When sunne his beame from substance banisheth,
Or like the snow at once that dries and sleeteth.
Or as the rainebow which by her condition
Liues by the Sunnes reflect and opposition.
All like a dreame, or as the shadow fleeteth,
When sunne his beame from substance banisheth,
Or as the rainebow which by her condition
Liues by the Sunnes reflect and opposition.
Thus life in name is but a death in beeing,
A burthen to the soule by earth intangled:
Then put thou off that vaile that lets thy seeing,
O wretched man with many torments mangled,
Since neither childe, nor youth, nor staid, nor aged,
The stormes of wretched life may be asswaged.
A burthen to the soule by earth intangled:
Then put thou off that vaile that lets thy seeing,
O wretched man with many torments mangled,
Since neither childe, nor youth, nor staid, nor aged,
The stormes of wretched life may be asswaged.
And with the Egyptian midst thy delicates
Present the shape of death in euery member,
To make thee know the name of all estates:
And midst thy pompe thy nying graue remember,
Which if thou dost, thy pride shall be repressed,
Since none before he dies is perfect blessed.
Present the shape of death in euery member,
To make thee know the name of all estates:
And midst thy pompe thy nying graue remember,
Which if thou dost, thy pride shall be repressed,
Since none before he dies is perfect blessed.
PIETATI.
If so those flames I vent when as I sigh.
Amidst these lowly vallies where I lie.
Might finde some meanes by swift addresse to flie
Vnto those Alpine toplesse mountaines high:
Amidst these lowly vallies where I lie.
Might finde some meanes by swift addresse to flie
Vnto those Alpine toplesse mountaines high:
Thou shouldst behold their Icie burthens thawe,
And crimson flowers adorne their naked backs,
Sweete roses should inrich their winter wracks,
Against the course of kind and natures lawe.
And crimson flowers adorne their naked backs,
Sweete roses should inrich their winter wracks,
Against the course of kind and natures lawe.
But you faire Ladie see the furious flame,
That through your will destroyes me beyond measure,
Yet in my paines me thinkes you take great pleasure,
Loth to redeeme or else redresse the same:
Nor hath your heart compassion of mine illes,
More cold then snow, more hard then Alpine hils.
That through your will destroyes me beyond measure,
Yet in my paines me thinkes you take great pleasure,
Loth to redeeme or else redresse the same:
Nor hath your heart compassion of mine illes,
More cold then snow, more hard then Alpine hils.
PIETATI.
O desarts be you peopled by my plaints,
And let your plantes by my pure teares be watred,
And let the birds whom my sad mone acquaint,
To heare my hymnes haue harmonie in hatred.
And let your plantes by my pure teares be watred,
And let the birds whom my sad mone acquaint,
To heare my hymnes haue harmonie in hatred.
Let all your sauage citizens refraine,
To haunt those bowers where I my woes bewray,
Let none but deepe dispaire with me remaine,
To haste my death when hope doth will me stay.
To haunt those bowers where I my woes bewray,
Let none but deepe dispaire with me remaine,
To haste my death when hope doth will me stay.
Let rocks remoue for feare they melt to heare me,
Let Eccho whist for dread shee die to answere:
So liuing thus where no delights come neere me,
My manie mones more moouing may appeare:
And in the depth of all when I am climing,
Let loue come by, see, sigh, and fall a crying.
Let Eccho whist for dread shee die to answere:
So liuing thus where no delights come neere me,
My manie mones more moouing may appeare:
And in the depth of all when I am climing,
Let loue come by, see, sigh, and fall a crying.
[With Ganimede now ioines the shining sunne]
With Ganimede now ioines the shining sunne,
And through the world displaise his chiller flame,
Cold, frost, and snow, the meddowes, and the mountaines
Do wholie blend, the waters waxen Ice:
The meades want flowers, the trees haue parched leaues,
Such is the dolie season of the yeare.
And through the world displaise his chiller flame,
Cold, frost, and snow, the meddowes, and the mountaines
The meades want flowers, the trees haue parched leaues,
Such is the dolie season of the yeare.
And I in coldest season of the yeare,
Like to a naked man before the Sunne,
Whilest drought thus dwels in herbes and dried leaues,
Consume my selfe, and in affections flame
To cinders fall: ne helpes me frost or ice
That falles from off these Snow-clad cloudie mountains.
Like to a naked man before the Sunne,
Whilest drought thus dwels in herbes and dried leaues,
Consume my selfe, and in affections flame
To cinders fall: ne helpes me frost or ice
That falles from off these Snow-clad cloudie mountains.
But when as shades new clothe againe the mountaines,
And daies wax long, and warmer is the yeare;
Then in my soule fierce loue congeales an Ice,
Which nor the force of fierce enflamed sunne
May thaw, nor may be moult with mightie flames,
Which frost doth make me quake like Aspen leaues.
And daies wax long, and warmer is the yeare;
Then in my soule fierce loue congeales an Ice,
Which nor the force of fierce enflamed sunne
May thaw, nor may be moult with mightie flames,
Which frost doth make me quake like Aspen leaues.
Such time the windes are whist, and trembling leaues,
And beast grow mute reposing on the mountaines,
Then when aslaked beene the heauenly flames,
Both in the waine and prime tide of the yeare:
I watch, I warde, vntill the new sprung sunne,
And hope, and feare, and feele both cold and Ice.
And beast grow mute reposing on the mountaines,
Then when aslaked beene the heauenly flames,
Both in the waine and prime tide of the yeare:
I watch, I warde, vntill the new sprung sunne,
And hope, and feare, and feele both cold and Ice.
But when againe her morrow-gathered Ice
The morne displaies, and frostieth drouping leaues,
And day renewes with rising of the sunne,
Then wailful forth I wend through vales & mountaines:
Ne other thought haue I day, moneth, and yeare,
But of my first the fatall inward flames.
The morne displaies, and frostieth drouping leaues,
And day renewes with rising of the sunne,
Then wailful forth I wend through vales & mountaines:
Ne other thought haue I day, moneth, and yeare,
But of my first the fatall inward flames.
Thus loue consumes me in his liuely flames,
Thus loue doth freeze me with his chillie Ice,
So that no time remaines me through the yeare
To make me blithe: ne are there any leaues:
Through al the trees that are vpon the mountaines,
That may conceale me from my sweetest sunne,
First shalt the sunne be seene without his flame,
The wintred mountaines without frost or ice,
Leaues on the stones ere I content one yeare.
Thus loue doth freeze me with his chillie Ice,
So that no time remaines me through the yeare
To make me blithe: ne are there any leaues:
Through al the trees that are vpon the mountaines,
That may conceale me from my sweetest sunne,
The wintred mountaines without frost or ice,
Leaues on the stones ere I content one yeare.
[O curions Gem how I enuie each while]
O curions Gem how I enuie each while,
To see thee play vpon my Ladies paps,
And heare those Orbes where Cupid layes his traps
From whence a gratious Aprill still doth smile.
To see thee play vpon my Ladies paps,
And heare those Orbes where Cupid layes his traps
From whence a gratious Aprill still doth smile.
And now thou plaist thee in that Garden gentill,
Twixt golden fruite and neere her heart receiuest
Thy rest, and all her secret thoughts conceiuest
Vnder a vaile faire, white, diuine, and subtill.
Twixt golden fruite and neere her heart receiuest
Thy rest, and all her secret thoughts conceiuest
Vnder a vaile faire, white, diuine, and subtill.
Ye gentle pearles where ere did nature make you?
Or whether in Indian shoares you found your mould,
Or in those lands where spices serue for fuell:
Oh if I might from out your essence take you,
And turne my selfe to shape what ere I would,
How gladly would I be my Ladies Iewell?
Or whether in Indian shoares you found your mould,
Or in those lands where spices serue for fuell:
Oh if I might from out your essence take you,
And turne my selfe to shape what ere I would,
How gladly would I be my Ladies Iewell?
CAZON.
My words, my thoughts, my vowes,
Haue soild, haue forst, haue stainde,
My tongue, my heart, my browes.
Haue soild, haue forst, haue stainde,
My tongue, my heart, my browes.
My tongue, my heart, my browes,
Shall speake, shal thinke, shall smile,
Gainst words, gainst thoughts, gainst vowes.
Shall speake, shal thinke, shall smile,
Gainst words, gainst thoughts, gainst vowes.
For words, for thoughts, for vowes,
Haue soiled, wrongde, and stained,
My tongue, my heart, my browes.
Haue soiled, wrongde, and stained,
My tongue, my heart, my browes.
Whereon henceforth I sweare.
My words, my thoughts, my vowes,
So vaine, so vile, so bace,
Which brought, my tongue, heart, browes,
To shame, repulse, disgrace.
My words, my thoughts, my vowes,
So vaine, so vile, so bace,
Which brought, my tongue, heart, browes,
To shame, repulse, disgrace.
Shall euermore forbeare,
To tempt that brow, that heart, that tongue, so holy,
With vows, with thoughts, with words, of too great folly.
To tempt that brow, that heart, that tongue, so holy,
With vows, with thoughts, with words, of too great folly.
[Vertue is dead, and here she is enshrined]
Vertue is dead, and here she is enshrined,
Within two lifelesse bodies late deceased:
Beautie is dead, and here is faith assigned
To weepe her wracke, who when there dide first ceased,
Pitie was dead when tyranny first slew them,
And heauen inioies their soules, tho earth doth rew them.
Within two lifelesse bodies late deceased:
Beautie is dead, and here is faith assigned
To weepe her wracke, who when there dide first ceased,
Pitie was dead when tyranny first slew them,
And heauen inioies their soules, tho earth doth rew them.
Since beautie then and vertue are departed,
And faith growes faint to weep in these their fading,
And vertuous pitie kind and tender hearted,
Died to behold fierce furies fell inuading.
And faith growes faint to weep in these their fading,
Died to behold fierce furies fell inuading.
Vouchsafe ye heuens that fame may haue in keeping
Their happy and thrice blessed names, for whome
Both vertue, beautie, pittie died with weeping,
And faith is closed in this marble tombe.
Their happy and thrice blessed names, for whome
Both vertue, beautie, pittie died with weeping,
And faith is closed in this marble tombe.
Domus doloris.
Who seekes the caue where horride care doth dwell,
That feedes on sighes, and drinkes of bitter teares:
Who seekes in life to finde a liuing hell,
Where he that liues, all liuing ioy forbeares:
Who seeks that griefe, that griefe it selfe scarce knowes it,
Here let him rest, this caue shall soone disclose it.
That feedes on sighes, and drinkes of bitter teares:
Who seekes in life to finde a liuing hell,
Where he that liues, all liuing ioy forbeares:
Who seeks that griefe, that griefe it selfe scarce knowes it,
Here let him rest, this caue shall soone disclose it.
As is the mite vnto the sandie seas,
As is the drop vnto the Ocean streames,
As to the orbe of heauen a sillie pease.
As is the lampe to burning Ticius beames:
Euen such is thought that vainely doth indeuer,
To thinke the care liues here, or count it euer.
As is the drop vnto the Ocean streames,
As to the orbe of heauen a sillie pease.
As is the lampe to burning Ticius beames:
Euen such is thought that vainely doth indeuer,
To thinke the care liues here, or count it euer.
Here sorrow, plague, dispaire, and fierce suspect,
Here rage, here ielousie, here cursed spight,
Here murther, famine, treason and neglect.
Haue left their stings to plague a wofull wight:
That liues within this tombe of discontent.
Yet loathes that life that nature hath him lent.
Here rage, here ielousie, here cursed spight,
Here murther, famine, treason and neglect.
Haue left their stings to plague a wofull wight:
Yet loathes that life that nature hath him lent.
[Thine age and wastfull tempests thee.]
Thine age and wastfull tempests thee.
Mine age and wretched sorrowes me defaced,
Thy sap by course of time is blent,
My sence by care and age is spent and chased.
Thy leaues are fallen away to dust,
My yeares are thralld by time vniust.
Thy boughes the windes haue borne away,
My babes fierce murther did decay.
Thy rootes are firmed in the ground,
My rootes are rent, my comforts drownd, showers cherish.
Thy barren bosome in the field, I perish.
Since nothing may me comfort yeelde.
Mine age and wretched sorrowes me defaced,
Thy sap by course of time is blent,
My sence by care and age is spent and chased.
Thy leaues are fallen away to dust,
My yeares are thralld by time vniust.
Thy boughes the windes haue borne away,
My babes fierce murther did decay.
Thy rootes are firmed in the ground,
My rootes are rent, my comforts drownd, showers cherish.
Thy barren bosome in the field, I perish.
Since nothing may me comfort yeelde.
Storms, showers, age, weare, waste, daunt, & make thee dry
Teares, cares, age, ice, waste, wring, and yet liue I.
Teares, cares, age, ice, waste, wring, and yet liue I.
[Iudge not my thoughts, ne measure my desires]
Iudge not my thoughts, ne measure my desires,By outward conduct of my searching eies,
If vnder gold a secret poison lies,
If vnder softest flowers lie Serpents fell,
If from mans spine bone Vipers do arise,
So may sweete lookes conceale a secret hell,
Not loue im me, that neuer may suffice.
The heart that hath the rules of reason knowne,
But loue in me which no man can deuise.
A loue of that I want, and is mine owne.
Yet loue, and louers lawes do I despise.
How strange is this? iudge you that louers be,
To loue, yet haue no loue conceald in me.
[I smile to see the toies]
I smile to see the toies,
Which I in silent see,
The hopes, the secret ioyes,
Expected are from me:
The vowes, the sighes, the teares, are lost in vaine,
By silly loue through sorrow welnie slaine.
Which I in silent see,
The hopes, the secret ioyes,
Expected are from me:
The vowes, the sighes, the teares, are lost in vaine,
By silly loue through sorrow welnie slaine.
The colour goes and comes,
The face, now pale, now red,
Now feare the heart benomes,
And hope growes almost dead.
And I looke on and laugh, tho sad I seeme,
And faine to fawne altho my minde misdeeme.
The face, now pale, now red,
Now feare the heart benomes,
And hope growes almost dead.
And I looke on and laugh, tho sad I seeme,
And faine to fawne altho my minde misdeeme.
I let the flie disport,
About the burning light,
And feede her with resort,
And baite her with delight.
But When the flames hath seasd her winges (adew)
Away will I, and seeke for pleasures new.
About the burning light,
And feede her with resort,
And baite her with delight.
But When the flames hath seasd her winges (adew)
Away will I, and seeke for pleasures new.
Smile not, they are no toyes,
Which you in silent see,
Nor hopes, nor secret ioyes,
Which you beholde in mee:
But those my vowes, sighes, teares, are serious seales,
Whereby my heart his inward griefe reueales.
Which you in silent see,
Nor hopes, nor secret ioyes,
Which you beholde in mee:
But those my vowes, sighes, teares, are serious seales,
Whereby my heart his inward griefe reueales.
My colour goes and comes,
My face is pale and red,
And feare my heart benomes,
And hope is almost dead:
And why? to see thee laugh at my desart
So faire a man, and yet so false a heart.
My face is pale and red,
And feare my heart benomes,
And hope is almost dead:
And why? to see thee laugh at my desart
So faire a man, and yet so false a heart.
Well, let the flie disport,
And turne her in the light:
And as thou dost report,
Still baite her with dispite:
Yet be thou sure, when thou hast slaine the furst,
Thou fliest away (perhaps) to find the worst.
And turne her in the light:
And as thou dost report,
Still baite her with dispite:
Yet be thou sure, when thou hast slaine the furst,
Thou fliest away (perhaps) to find the worst.
[I pine away expecting of the houre]
I pine away expecting of the houre,Which through my waiward chance will not arriue,
I waite the word, by whose sweete sacred power,
My lost contents may soone be made aliue:
My pensiue heart, for feare my griefe should perish,
Vpon fallacious hope his fast appeaseth;
And to my selfe my frustrate thoughts to cherish,
I faine a good that flits before it ceaseth:
And as the ship farre scattred from the port,
All welnie spent and wreckt with wretched blast,
From East to West, midst surging seas is tossed,
So I, whose soule by fierce delaies effort,
Is ouercome in heart and lookes defast,
Runne heere, runne there, sigh, die, by sorrow crossed.
[I see a new sprung sunne that shines more cleerely]
I see a new sprung sunne that shines more cleerely,
That warmes the earth more blithly with hir brightnes
That spreads hir beams more faire, & shines more cheerly
Then that cleere sun that glads the day with lightnes.
That warmes the earth more blithly with hir brightnes
Then that cleere sun that glads the day with lightnes.
For but by outward heate the one offends me,
The other burnes my bones, and melts their marrow:
The one when he sets on further blends me,
The other ceasles makes her eie loues arrow.
The other burnes my bones, and melts their marrow:
The one when he sets on further blends me,
The other ceasles makes her eie loues arrow.
From that a shower a shadow of a tree,
A foggie mist may safely me protect,
But this through clouds and shades doth passe & perce me
In winters frosts the others force doth flee:
But this each season shines in each respect,
Ech where, ech houre, my hart doth plague & perce me.
A foggie mist may safely me protect,
But this through clouds and shades doth passe & perce me
In winters frosts the others force doth flee:
But this each season shines in each respect,
Ech where, ech houre, my hart doth plague & perce me.
[Teares, cares, wrongs, griefe feele I]
Complaint
Teares, cares, wrongs, griefe feele I,Wo, frownes, scornes, crafts nill cease,
Yeares, months, daies, howers do flie
Fro mee away flieth peace:
Opprest I liue (alas) vnhappily,
Rest is exilde, scornde, plagde, thus am I.
Answere.
Mend her, or change fond thought,Minde her, then end thy minde,
Ende thee will sorrowe sought,
Kinde if thou art: too blinde,
Such loue flie farre, lest thou perceiue and proue
Much sorow, grief, care, sighing, breeds such loue.
[I see with my hearts bleeding]
I see with my hearts bleeding,Thus hourely throgh my pain my life desires,
I feele the flames exceeding,
That burne my heart by vndeserued fires.
But whence these fires haue breeding,
I cannot finde though great are my desires.
O miracle eterne!
That thus I burne in fire, and yet my fire cannot disceern.
[When as my pale to her pure lips vnited]
When as my pale to her pure lips vnited,
(Like new fallne snow vpon the morning rose)
Sucke out those sweets wherin my soule delited,
Good lord how soon dispersed were my woes!
(Like new fallne snow vpon the morning rose)
Sucke out those sweets wherin my soule delited,
Good lord how soon dispersed were my woes!
And from those gates whence comes that balmy breath
That makes the sunne to smile when he ariseth,
I drew a life subdewing neering death,
I suckt a sweete that euerie sweete compriseth.
That makes the sunne to smile when he ariseth,
I drew a life subdewing neering death,
I suckt a sweete that euerie sweete compriseth.
There tooke my soule his hand-fast to desire,
There chose my heart his paradise on earth,
There is the heauen whereto my hopes retire,
There pleasure bred, and thence was Cupids birth:
Such is their power that by a touch they seuer.
The heart from paines that liu'd in sorrowes euer.
There chose my heart his paradise on earth,
There is the heauen whereto my hopes retire,
There pleasure bred, and thence was Cupids birth:
Such is their power that by a touch they seuer.
The heart from paines that liu'd in sorrowes euer.
[Euen at the brinke of sorrowes ceasles streames]
Euen at the brinke of sorrowes ceasles streames,
All well-me drownd through dalliance and disdaine,
Hoping to winne the truce in my extreames,
To perce that marble heart where pride remaines.
All well-me drownd through dalliance and disdaine,
Hoping to winne the truce in my extreames,
To perce that marble heart where pride remaines.
I send salt teares, sad sighes, and ruthful lines,
Firme vowes (and with these true men) my desire,
Which in his lasting sufferance scarce repines,
To burne in ceaslesse Aetna of her ire.
Firme vowes (and with these true men) my desire,
Which in his lasting sufferance scarce repines,
To burne in ceaslesse Aetna of her ire.
All which (and yet of all, the least might serue)
If too too weake to waken true regarde,
Vouchsafe O heauen that see how I deserue,
Since you are neuer partiall in rewarde,
That ere I die she may with like successe,
Weepe, sigh, write, vow and die without redresse.
If too too weake to waken true regarde,
Vouchsafe O heauen that see how I deserue,
Since you are neuer partiall in rewarde,
That ere I die she may with like successe,
Weepe, sigh, write, vow and die without redresse.
[Heape frowne on frowne, disdaine vpon disdaine]
Heape frowne on frowne, disdaine vpon disdaine,
Ioyne care, to care, and leaue no wrong vnwrought,
Suppose the worst, and smile at euerie paine,
Thinke my pale lookes of enuie not of thought.
Ioyne care, to care, and leaue no wrong vnwrought,
Suppose the worst, and smile at euerie paine,
Thinke my pale lookes of enuie not of thought.
In errors maske let reasons eie be masked,
Send out contempts to sommon death to slay me,
To all these tyrant woes tho I be tasked,
My faith shall flourish tho these paines decay me.
Send out contempts to sommon death to slay me,
To all these tyrant woes tho I be tasked,
My faith shall flourish tho these paines decay me.
And tho repyning loue to cinders burne me,
I wil be fam'de for sufferance to the last,
Since that in life no tedious paines could turne me,
And care my flesh, but not my faith could wast.
Tho after death for all this lifes distresse,
My soule your endles honours shall confesse.
I wil be fam'de for sufferance to the last,
Since that in life no tedious paines could turne me,
And care my flesh, but not my faith could wast.
Tho after death for all this lifes distresse,
My soule your endles honours shall confesse.
[Those glorious lampes that heauen illuminate]
Those glorious lampes that heauen illuminate,
And most incline to retrograde aspects,
Vpon my birth-day shonde the worst effects,
Thralling my life to most sinister fate.
And most incline to retrograde aspects,
Vpon my birth-day shonde the worst effects,
Thralling my life to most sinister fate.
Where-through my selfe estrangde from truth a while,
Twixt pains, and plagues, midst torments and distresse,
Supposde to finde for all my ruth redresse,
But now beliefe, nor hope, shal me beguile.
Twixt pains, and plagues, midst torments and distresse,
Supposde to finde for all my ruth redresse,
But now beliefe, nor hope, shal me beguile.
So that (my heart from ioyes exiled quite)
Ile pine in griefe through fierce disdaines accurst,
Scornde by the world, aliue to nought but spite:
Hold I my tongue? t'is bad; and speake I? wurst,
Both helpe me noughts; and if perhaps I write,
T'is not in hope, but lest the heart should burst.
Ile pine in griefe through fierce disdaines accurst,
Scornde by the world, aliue to nought but spite:
Hold I my tongue? t'is bad; and speake I? wurst,
Both helpe me noughts; and if perhaps I write,
T'is not in hope, but lest the heart should burst.
[O shadie vales, O faire inriched meades]
O shadie vales, O faire inriched meades,
O sacred woodes, sweete fields, and rising mountaines,
O painted flowers, greene herbes, where Flora treads,
Refresht by wanton windes, and watrie fountaines.
O sacred woodes, sweete fields, and rising mountaines,
O painted flowers, greene herbes, where Flora treads,
Refresht by wanton windes, and watrie fountaines.
O all you winged queristers of woode,
That piercht aloft your former paines report,
And strait againe recount with pleasant moode,
Your present ioyes in sweete and seemely sort.
That piercht aloft your former paines report,
And strait againe recount with pleasant moode,
Your present ioyes in sweete and seemely sort.
O all you creatures, whosoeuer thriue.
On mother earth, in seas, by aire or fire:
More blest are you, then I here vnder sunne,
Loue dies in me, when as he doth reuiue
In you; I perish vnder beauties ire,
Where after stormes, windes, frosts, your life is wonne.
On mother earth, in seas, by aire or fire:
Loue dies in me, when as he doth reuiue
In you; I perish vnder beauties ire,
Where after stormes, windes, frosts, your life is wonne.
[Twixt reuerence and desire, how am I vexed?]
Twixt reuerence and desire, how am I vexed?
Now prone to lay ambitious handes on beautie,
Now hauing seare to my desires annexed,
Now haled on by hope, now staid by dutie.
Now prone to lay ambitious handes on beautie,
Now hauing seare to my desires annexed,
Now haled on by hope, now staid by dutie.
Emboldned thus, and ouerrulde in striuing.
To gaine the soueraine good my heart desireth:
I liue a life, but in effect no liuing,
Since dread subdues desire that most aspireth.
To gaine the soueraine good my heart desireth:
I liue a life, but in effect no liuing,
Since dread subdues desire that most aspireth.
Tho must I bide the combate of extreames,
Faine to enioy, yet fearing to offend,
Like him that striues against resisting streames,
In hope to gaine the harbor in the end:
Which hauen hir grace, which happy grace enioyed
Both reuerence, and desire, are well employed.
Faine to enioy, yet fearing to offend,
Like him that striues against resisting streames,
In hope to gaine the harbor in the end:
Which hauen hir grace, which happy grace enioyed
Both reuerence, and desire, are well employed.
[Not so much borrowed beautie hath the starres]
Not so much borrowed beautie hath the starres,
Not so much bright the mightie eie of day,
Not so much cleare hath Cinthia where she warres,
With deathes neere neece in her blacke array.
Not so much bright the mightie eie of day,
With deathes neere neece in her blacke array.
Not so true essence haue the sacred soules,
That from their naturall mansions are deuided,
Not so pure red hath Bacchus in his boules,
As hath that face whereby my soule is guided.
That from their naturall mansions are deuided,
Not so pure red hath Bacchus in his boules,
As hath that face whereby my soule is guided.
Not so could art or nature if they sought,
In curious workes themselues for to exceede,
Or second that which they at first had wrought,
Nor so could time, or all the gods proceede,
As to enlarge, mould, thinke, or match that frame,
As I do honour vnder Dians name.
In curious workes themselues for to exceede,
Or second that which they at first had wrought,
Nor so could time, or all the gods proceede,
As to enlarge, mould, thinke, or match that frame,
As I do honour vnder Dians name.
Margaritaes Epitaph.
A blessed soule from earthly prison losed,
Ye happie heuens had faith to you conuaide,
The earthly holde within this tombe inclosed,
White Marble stones within your wombe is laide:
The fame of her that soule and bodie lost,
Suruiues from th'ile to the Biactrian coast.
Ye happie heuens had faith to you conuaide,
The earthly holde within this tombe inclosed,
White Marble stones within your wombe is laide:
The fame of her that soule and bodie lost,
Suruiues from th'ile to the Biactrian coast.
A precious pearle in name, a pearle in nature,
Too kinde in loue vnto too fierce a foe,
By him she lou'd, shee dide, O cursed creature,
To quite true faith with furious murther so!
But vaine are teares for those whom death hath slaine,
And sweete is fame that makes dead liue againe.
Too kinde in loue vnto too fierce a foe,
By him she lou'd, shee dide, O cursed creature,
To quite true faith with furious murther so!
But vaine are teares for those whom death hath slaine,
And sweete is fame that makes dead liue againe.
Dianaes Epitaph.
Thy babe and thou by sire and husbands hand,
Belou'd in staied sence was slaine in rage,
Both by vntimely death in natiue land
Lost Empire, hope, and died in timelesse age,
And he whose sword your bloud with furie spilt,
Bereft himselfe of life through cursed guilt.
Belou'd in staied sence was slaine in rage,
Both by vntimely death in natiue land
Lost Empire, hope, and died in timelesse age,
And he whose sword your bloud with furie spilt,
Bereft himselfe of life through cursed guilt.
All ye that fixe your eies vpon this tombe,
Remember this, that beautie fadeth fast,
That honours are enthralde to haples dombe,
That life hath nothing sure, but soone doth wast;
So liue you then, that when your yeares are fled,
Your glories may suruiue when you are dead.
Remember this, that beautie fadeth fast,
That honours are enthralde to haples dombe,
That life hath nothing sure, but soone doth wast;
So liue you then, that when your yeares are fled,
Your glories may suruiue when you are dead.
FINIS.
| A Margarite of America | |