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THE AVTHOR TO HIS BOOKE.

When Dedal taught his tender Sonne to flee,
Out through the subtile warrie vaults of aire:
Goe not too high, nor yet too low, sayd hee:
Of Floodes beneath, of Fire aboue beware:
So home-bred Rimes you Icare-like must rise,
Mid-way betwixt the Vulgar and the Wise.
For you shall be vnto the vulgar sort
No fit propine, because not vnderstood:
And with the Wise you must haue small resort,
Since they can reape in reading you no good:
Like Dedalus I then direct, thus flie,
Goe neither low, nor yet I pray too hie.
And though you be directed to a King,
By any meanes approach not Court I pray,
For some will say my precepts pricke and sting,
And some shall scorne, some carpe, some cast away:
But (as you must) if toward Court you goe,
Since freindes are few, I pray you breed no foe.
Aerij montes et mollia prata, nemusq;
et vos carminibus flumina nota meis,
Quod me tam gracilem voluistis ferre Poetam
indignor, magnæ laudis amore calens.

TO MY DREAD SOVERAIGNE IAMES, by the grace of God, of Britaine, Fraunce and Ireland, King.

SONET. TO HIS MAIESTIE.

1.

When others cease, now I begin to sing;
And now when others hold their peace, I shout:
(The Lord preserue sweete Leonatus King,
That hee may rule great Britane round about:)
But if perhaps your Maiestie shall doubt,
what makes me sing whē others hold their peace:
My rusticke Muse when as each one cry'd out,
Could not be heard from so remote a place,
Dombe Woonder then my Sense did so confound,
The greater stroke astonisheth the more,
When as I heard thy name so much renound,
I felt as lying in a sound no sore:
But now reuiu'd, I sing, when others cease,
(In wonted mercie Lord preserue thy Grace.)

2

With mutuall losse, with none or litle gaine,
When Ilion faire was fully set on fire,
Proud Paris by his horie riuall slaine,
And Tyndaris brought backe to her Empire:
I know not if the Phrygians did require
Melitides, but loe when Troy was wrackt,
Kind foole he came (some say at their desire)
Yet sayd he nought, but sigh'd to see them sackt:

Hee then was kind, I kinder now great Prince:
Hee wept, I smild, to see thy Troy but blood:
Hee sent for, I vnsought, and had long since
Been heere, if that my comming could done good:
Yet in this poynt our kindnes I conione,
Wee come kind fooles to helpe when all is done.

3

Great Pompey caus'd his Heraulds to proclaime
A publique Feast to nations farre and neare,
The young, the old, the rich and poore, all came,
As welcome guistes vnto that Princely cheare:
One blind man at a lame began to speare,
What shall we doe? goe sayd the lame, take way,
I shall be guide, thou on thy backe shall beare
My lamed limbes; and thus they keepe the day.
Looke peerelesse Pompey on my Lines and mee,
They lame, and I without thy sight am blinde:
Wee come from farthest Scotish coastes to thee,
Some portion of thy royall Feast to finde:
It restes in thee to welcome vs therefore,
And make me rich, that I may beg no more.

TO THE KINGES MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTIE.

Epistle Congratulatorie & Perænetic.

Scarse had my Muse respir'd the smallest space,
From paynting prayses of our ciuill Pace,
Pack'd vp by thee most gratious King of late
In Calidons disturb'd vnquiet state,
When loe the Kalendes of this pleasent Spring,
Vnto my eares did ioyfull tydinges bring,
That bles'd Eliza had resignd her breath,
And payde the last and hindmost debt to death:
(O fearefull death! the fatall end of all,
With equall Mace thou chops both great and small)
And thou design'd her Diadems to weyre,
Of royall blood her nyest agnat heyre.
Thou like a Noah long has kep't thy Arke,
Thoyld many storme by day, and gloomie darke:
Yet would not breake thy ward till time thy God,
Hath lent thee leaue, and bids thee walke abrode:
But his commaund since thou would nothing do,
Loe he hath ioynd his blessinges therevnto.
Come foorth with Wife and Children, sweete command,
The blessing breok and multiply the land.
Thus am I solu'd of all my wonted doubt,
Nor wits nor weirdes thy fortunes bringes about,
But that eternall prouidence aboue:
Which thou art bound to serue, with feare and loue.
Those newes of new, haue wak'd my sleeping vaine,
And makes me write vnto your Grace againe

Most harty greetings of thy happy chaunce,
Since thou art King of England, Ireland, Fraunce,
Besides that famous and vnmatch'd renowne
Of thy vnconquered olde and Scottish Crowne.
Long desuetude hath rusted so my quill,
My wits are weake, but great is my good will.
Though scoffing Idiots will my paines depraue,
And Aristarchus all the credite haue.
I am to thee (dread Leige) thy aerie Elfe:
I borrow but thy words to prayse thy selfe.
Let Muse-foe Mars elsewhere abroad go dwell,
Of warres and wounds let forraine Fachions smell:
Peace dwels with thee, where it hath dwelt so long,
Prone to propell, and to permit no wrong.
Wise Periander wreates that Crownes of Kings,
On many fearefull fluctuations hings:
And that a Monarch's suretie no way stood
In victories, in warrie broyles, and blood:
But in the loue of Subiects trust and true,
Thence said the saige did setling sure ensue.
Graue Xonophon thy registers records,
That deeing Cyrus spoke those selfe same words.
Aratus rare, said so to Philip great,
That loue and peace confirm's a Kings estate:
In speculation Schoolemen beene diuine,
But thou exceeds them Sou'raigne Syre sensine:
For thou has put their sacred gnom's in vre,
Perfection in thy practique makes thee sure.
Let forraine lands now looke with enuies ee,
And who would rule, let him come learne at thee:
When ather Momus or Rhamnusia barkes,
Thy wits are wondrous both in wreats and warkes.
Oft times said Otho in a rage, that hee
Had rather chuse nor be a King to die.

And Diocletian said, to be a King,
And well to rule, was most difficill thing.
When Dionise at Siracusa sweare
That Damocles some while his Crowne should weare:
But being crownd, he plainely did protest
He neuer could be blithe to be so blest.
Were those on life for to behold thee now.
They could not raigne, nor could they rule as thou.
Thy match on mould nor was, nor yet shall bee:
Thus might they learne for to be Kings at thee.
Ariston's praise is thine, as I suppose,
Thou keepes thy friends, and reconciles thy foes:
Vespasian-like, whome Rome obeyd with loue,
A Shepheard both, and carefull King you proue:
Thy folde bene broke, and lo thou has tane paine
To recollect thy erring flockes againe.
Thy Scepter and thy Sheephooke both are one,
Thou vnder heauen, their Herd and Lord alone.
And now as Homer paynted Priam foorth,
Thou has beside thee men of wit and woorth:
Can any harme or strange thing now betide thee,
Vcalegon Antenor are beside thee.
Like Macedo the wondering world may doubt thee,
Parmenio and Philotas are about thee.
For all these Kingdomes which thou doest command,
A part by hop's, a happy part in hand,
Thou has a Kingdome to thy selfe vnknowne,
Looke rightly too, and Cecil is thine owne.
Were Plato now on life, then would he say
That thy republikes blessed are this day:
For thou art wise, and now wise counsell hants,
And with thy wisedome thou supplies their wants.
Yet this much more I plainely must impart,
A friendly counsel from a faithfull heart:

Though farre from Ioue and thunder-claps I dwell,
My Lines of loue, of truth, and zeale shall smell.
Read then my Rymes most wise and prudent Prience,
And let a Hog, teach Minerue, but offence.
Not that I thinke your Grace has any need,
Or know's not els what's heere before you reed.
No, I attest great sacred Ioue aboue,
I onely write to manifest my loue:
While in my tugure (such is my estate)
I take repast of poore vnpeppered Kate.
I thanke my God for such as he doth giue,
And pray's withall, that well, and long thou liue:
And in seces at solitarie times,
Thou art remembred in my rusticke Rymes.
Sinetas poore vnto the Persian King,
Cold water in his hollow palme did bring:
Which Artaxerxes louingly out-dranke,
And gaue Sinetas both reward and thanke.
Right so those riuols of my poore Ingyne,
I heere present, from out this palme of mine.
Read then (dread Leige) those trauails of my loue.
Elaborate, and done for thy behoue.

1

Thus I begin, since adulations vaine,
In Courts wid Kings and Monarch must remaine:
To assentators thou must giue some eare,
But be no prouder of their prayse a haire:
For Macedo would needs be cald a God,
And to this end his Edicts blew abrod:
Which on his head did heape disgrace the rather
Sith he asham'd that Phillip was his father.

2

Giue Parasites enough, but not too much,
And be not lauish, least thy lucke be such
As Timon Coliteus, who outspent
On Domeas and Gnatonides his rent;

Of that vnthankfull numer liue anew,
To promise much, and to performe but few:
Be thou the stone (precellent Prince) of such,
For to secerne the honest mindes from such.

3

The faithfull man that once hath done thee good,
And for thy life hath ventered life and blood;
Be thankfull still to him, doe not despite him,
But with thy selfe thinke thou can nee're acquite him:
Proue not vnkinde to cause true Phocion die,
That thus hath fought, and wun the field for thee,
But when such friends so nigh thy sides are seene,
Remember then but them thou had not beene.

4

Serapion who is not taught to speike,
Let him not want, suppose he shame to seike:
He is thine owne, and loues thee as the leaue,
His speaking lookes will tell when he would haue:
Be (prudent Prince) a Pompey in this case,
A benefite vnsought hath double grace.

5

Change not too oft the Rulers of thy state,
For that may breed intestiue strange debate:
The Fleeis els full, from sucking more will slake,
But hungry Gnats will make thy woundes to ake:
I pray for them as did Hymera old,
For Dionise, the tigrish tyran bold,
(Lord saue sayd shee, our King from death, disgrace,
For were he gone, a worse would get his place)
Since in this poynt th' apodosis is plaine,
I turne my stile vnto your Grace againe.

6

If any friend in louing forme reueale
Twixt you and him your o'ursights, loue him well:
(Since Plato sayes, the brauest mindes bring foorth
Both hatefull vice, and vertue of most worth.
Wise Plutarch writes, in fertill Egipt grew
With medicable, enuenomd hearbes anew.)

Doe no rebuke, nor publique shame approue,
But friendly counsaile, which proceedes from loue:
Be not a drunke Cambises in dispeire,
For counsell kind to kill Prexaspes heire.

7

Take Turinus, and smooke him to the death,
Who falfly sels for bribes thy royall breath.

8

Though Alexander in a raging ire,
For praysing Philip his renouned Sire,
Kind Clitus kild, be thou more meeke in minde,
And to the praysers of thy Parents kinde.

9

Within thy heart let no iniustice hant,
Let not the wrong'd man weepe for iustice want:
Pansanias plaintes proud Philip did disdaine,
And cruelly for his contempt was slaine.

10

A Woman old fell downe vpon her knee,
And cryed Demetrius, heare my plaints and mee?
I haue no leasure answerd he againe.
Hee takes no leasure sayd the wife to reigne.
Doe not thine eares Demetrius-like obdure,
With patience heare the sad and plaintiue poore.

11

Proud Leo spoyld Iustinian his croune,
Deform'd his face, and cut his nose quite doune:
But when he got his Diadems againe,
He punisht those that erst procur'd his paine.
Each gut of rheume that from his nose did floe,
Gaue argument for to cut off a foe.
O do not thou great Prince delight in blood!
Of crueltie thou know's can come no good;
Be thou Licurgus, though thou lackes ane ee.
Forgiue Alcander, make him man to thee.

13

Uitellius-like haue not a facill will,
Now to graunt grace, and straight commaund to kill.

13

Great are thy fortunes, farre beyond beleife.
Thou needes no Realmes, nor foraine rents by reife.

Thy minde may well luxuriat in thy wealth,
Thy Crown's are thine but blood or strife or stealth:
And since thy fortunes are so rare: O than!
Each day with Philip, thinke thou art a man.

14

Though Agathocles Sicil did enioy,
Yet was he sometime but a Potters Boy:
And that his pride should not become too great;
In vessels but of Loame he tooke his meate.
Thy witt's the weird's with great promotion tryes,
For woonder few are happy both and wise:
Though thou be free from blast's of any storme,
Bee humid still, and keepe thy wonted forme.

15

Wreat not thy Law's with blood as Draco did,
The God of heau'n such crueltie forbid:
A happie Life, makes ay a happie end,
Be thou a Solon, Draccis Law's to mend.

16

Herodotus the Histor, and right so
The Poet Pindars wreats, with many mo,
That Monarch's great, examples good should giue,
Since from their Lords the Laiks learne to liue.
Kinkes be the glas, the verie scoole, the booke,
Where priuate men do learne, and read, and looke:
Be thou th' attractiue Adamant to all,
And let no wicked wrest thy wits to fall.
Goe not to Delphos where Apollo slands,
Licurgus-like with off'rings in thy hands.
By hellish votes and oracles to see
What to thy Law should paird or eiked bee:
From great Iehouah counsaile seeke, and hee
Shall giue both Gnom's and Oracles to thee,
And shall thy spir't with prudence so inspire,
As all the world shall wonder and admire.

17

From Countries farre great King behold and see,
With rich Oblations Legates come to thee:

With Uexores, and Tanais be glaide,
Of fame and honour let it not be saide,
Thou art a greedie Ninus; fie for shame,
That were a staine vnto thy Noble name.

18

Last, since thou art the child of Peace, I see
Thy workes, and writes, are witnes both with mee:
(Thy workes I haue no leasure to vnfold;
And though I had, are tedious to be told:
Thy Writes are wond'rous both in prose and ryme)
Let Vertue waxe and flourish in thy tyme:
Though thou be best, and greatest both of Kinges,
Mongst Poets all, is none so sweetely singes.
Thou art the sweete Musæus of our dayes;
And I thy Prentice, and must giue thee prayse:
Some other Writer must thy Woorth proclaime,
Thou shalt not sing vpon thy selfe for shame:
Thou hast transalpine Poets of thine owne,
Whose tragique Cothurus through the world are knowne:
Thou has likwise of home-bred Homers store,
Poore Craige shall be thy Cheryl; and no more,
Since all my life suppose I Poetize,
I see seauin Philippeans must suffize:
Not that thou art not liberall at will;
No, no, wise Prince, but caus my Verse are ill,
Yet since this furie is but lent to few,
Let vs not want, thou shalt haue Verse anew:
If these seeme pleasant, I shall sing againe;
If not, I will from being bold abstaine,
And cease to write; but neuer cease to pray,
The God of heauen preserue thee night and day.

THE MOST VERTVOVS and accomplished Prince ANNA, Queene of Britane, Fraunce, and Ireland; Complaineth the absence of her Lord and Spous IAMES, King of the foresayd Realmes.

Where habit was, dwels sad Priuation now,
And I am made an Orphane from delight:
To want the sweete fruition of thy sight,
In balefull bed my body when I bow,
Yea neither can I tell, nor can ye trow,
How blacke alace and noysome is each night,
Nor yet how loathsome is this common light,
Since absence made diuorse twixt mee and you.
I am thy Phæbæ, thou my Phæbus faire:
I haue no light nor life, but lent from thee,
Curst then be absence, causer of my care,
Which makes so long this loath'd eclipse to bee.
What woonder I through lake of presence pine?
Worm's haue alace their Sunne, and I want mine.

Scotlands Teares.

When fabling Æsop was at fatall Delphos tane,
And there by doome condem'd to be precipitat & slane
He like a woman weep't, and tooke delight in teaires,
Cause they alleuiat and made lesse the conscience of his caires.
But Solon when he spi'd his deerest sonne was dead,
He weepd the more, because his teaires to grief gaue no remead:
Yet neither he nor he by teaires could salue his ill,
Though of those salt and fruitles flouds impetuus spaits they spil
Then maymed Scotland thou made Orphane from delight,
Whom all the hosts of heauens abhor with vndeseru'd despight.
With deeing Æsop mourne, or wofull Solon weepe:
And tho as they, thou weepe in vaine let not thy sorrow sleepe:
With frustrat Æsau shout, curse life and wish to dee,
Since Iacob with his mothers helpe thy blessing steals from thee:
Now riuall England brag, for now, and not till now
Thou has compeld vnconquered harts & sturdy necks to bow.
What neither wits, nor wars, nor force afore could frame,
Is now accomplisht by the death of thy Imperiall Dame.
Eliza faire is gone, into the land of rest,
To that Elisium predecried and promis'd to the blest:
And England for her sake now we aires the sabill weede,
But Scotland if thou rightly looke thou has more cause indeede.
They for a Dian dead, Apolloes beames enioy,
And all their straying steps allace, our Titan dooth tonnoy

Now dawn's their glorius day with Phœbus rayes bespred,
And we are but Cymmerian slaues with gloomy clouds ou'rcled.
Rich neighbour nation then, from thy complayning cease:
Not thou, but we should sigh, & so to our complaints giue place.
Our Garland lacks the Rose, our chatton tins the stone,
Our Volier wants the Philomel, we left allace alone.
What art thou Scotland then? no Monarchie allace,
A oligarchie desolate, with straying and onkow face,
A maymed bodie now, but shaip some monstrous thing,
Are confused chaos now, a countrey, but a King.
When Paris fed his flockes among the Phrigian plaines,
Ænone's loue was his delights, his death were her disdaynes.
But when allace he knew that Priam was his Sire,
He left Ænone sweet, and syne for Helene would aspire.
Proud Pellex England so thou art the adulterat brid,
Who for Aenone thinkes no shame to lye by Paris sid.
Who knowes ere it be long, but our your happy King,
With Belgic, Celtic, Aquitan, to his Empire may bring?
And he (why should he not) your Troynauant shall leaue,
And vnto Parise spurre the post, his right for to receaue?
Then, then shall England weepe, and shed abounding teaires,
And we shall to our comfort find companions in our caires.
And till it so befall, with pitie, not with scorne,
Vpon this confinde Kingdome looke, as on a land forlorne:
Wise Plato would not once admit it in his minde,
He lou'd Xenocrates so well, he could become vnkinde,
And no more can we thinke dread Leige, though thou be gone,
Thou will vngratly leaue vs thus disconsolat allone,
By Contrars Contrars plac'd, no dout most clearely kith,
And now thy absence breedes our bale, whose biding made vs blith.
O were thou not both wise and good, we should not mourne,
We would not for thy absence weepe, nor wish for thy returne.
Long sleepe made Rufus loose the vse of both his eene.
O do not thou sweet Prince make stay, lest thou forget vs cleene

Like Epimenides when thou returns againe:
The shapp of al things shal be chaing't, thine own sheepe shalbe slaine,
Democrit rather choose no King at all to bee,
Then ouer wicked men to rule, and such allace are wee:
Our Iewell England ioyes, & yet no way dooth wrong vs;
The world may see we were not worth, that thou shuld be among vs:
But since it must be thus, and thou art forc'd to flitt,
Now like a Heart in to the mids of thy great body sitt:
And from thy Troynauant, which pleasures store impairts,
Behold thy Kingdom's round about thy hand in all the Airts;
Examples old thou taks, and layis before thy face,
The famous Numids thoght the midst to be most honored place
Thus by Hyempsals side Adherbal Salust sets,
And so Iugurtha in the midst wee reed no intrance gets.
Graue Maro maks likway, the Queene of Cartage braue,
Betwix Ascanius and the wise Æneas, place to haue,
Dooth not Apollo too in proudest pompe appere,
With bright and day-adorning beames in his meridian sphere?
So thou has choos'd the midst, of all thy Kingdom's knowne;
For looke about thee where thou list, thou looks but on thine owne
And since the Gods decree (Great King) that so shall bee,
Since Peace must florish in thy time, & Wars must cease & die,
But competition too, since thou has Englands Crowne,
Which was a Heptarchie of old, of vncontrould renowne,
Let Vs and Al-bi-on, that wee with one consent,
One God, one King, one Law, may be t'adore, serue, keepe, content.
In Rome the Sabins grew, with Tyrians Troians mixt,
And Iuda ioynd with Israel, but least wee seeme prolixt,
And that our louing plaint's, and teares may now take end,
Thee to thy Crowns, thy Crowns to thee, the great good God defend.

CALIDONS COMPLAINT At the apparent Voyage to her England, of ANNA Queene of Great Britaine, France, and Ireland: with HENRIE Prince of Wales, her most gracious Sonne.

And shall no light at all to len vs light be left?
Shal Sunn, Moone, fixed & those smal erratic stars be reft?
And was it not ynough that Titan tooke the flight?
Might not sweete Cynthia yet made stay for to haue lent vs light?
Since Sunne and Moone must goe, & that bright Harie starr,
Let Pluto now compare with vs in darknes if he darr,
From darknes was alace our deriuation old
The fatall name ΣΚΟΤΙΑ nought but darknes doth vnsold,
Shall our estate allace from state be thus downthrowne,
Shal Scotland hensforth haue againe no cround K. of their owne?
Shal wee from King, Queene, Prince, & all their brood disseuer?
And shall not Scotland be againe inhabited for euer?
Shall ghastly Züm cry, and Oim make there sport,
Within the Palaces where once but Monarch's made resort?
At libertie alas shall Fauns and Satyrs lope,
And to a hellish cold dispare conuert our former hope:
And dare not Orpheus looke but once againe abacke?
Or shall wee finde nothing at all, but fundamentall wracke?
Would God that vmquhyle Dame (the wisest Dame in deed,
That euer Britaine earst hath borne, or yet againe shall breed)
Would God as yet shee were to brooke her trident Mace,
Then shuld we not bin poynted at for wrake, scorne, & disgrace
Thou saild the glassie salt and conquered endles fame,

In prime of loue Heroic Prince, to see thy Danish Dame,
In fleeing towrs of tree thou croc'd the bounded Roares,
And brought our Queene, thy sacred Spous to Calidonian shoares wind,
O let not loue was cold! nor be not now vnkind,
Thou need not feare for foamie floods, nor pray for prosperous
Since shee sweet Dame is seik, thy Sonn but young in yeers,
With Cancer Leo burns aboue into their torrid Spheers:
Make then a bles'd returne to see them both againe,
But ô allace! wee ware those words vnto the winds in vaine:
For they must go to thee, more to increas our cairs,
And leaue no thing behind them here, but sorow, sighs, & teairs.
Thē wherto serue those plaints? who know's what is appoynted,
Or what the Destanies decrees to do with their Anoynted.
Nor Doucir, nor those Alps, nor Tybers volted Arche,
Vnto that Archunonarche great King Iames must be a Marche:
The heauins of the great Prince hade care in to thy Coode,
And kept thee when thou no thing knew of ather bad or good.
How many treasons strange, and conspirations great,
Haue bin contriu'd against thy crowne, & standing of thy state?
Before thou was, and since thou has eskaip'd huge snairs.
Be blithe Tued march'd thy kingdoms once, & now must march thy cairs.
Thy name shal be enough to conquer seas & lands,
And manumit afflicted Grece from Turks and tyrans hands.
When Rome shall be subdew'd, may thou no go abroad,
And make Bizantium old obey the great alguiding God.
But if thou greyus great King our greiued harts to glade,
Of thy triennall visiting, performe thy promeis made.
Faire gracious Dame, whose match nor was, nor shall be seene,
Though fortune smile, remēber yet that thou was first our Queene
Accompleisd peereles Prince in body both and mind,
Thinke on thy natiue soyle with loue, and be not cald vnkind:
And so since King, Queene, Prince, and all our all must go,
The Trinitie aboue preserue this Trinitie be-low.

ELIAZABETH, LATE QVEENE OF ENGLAND, HER GHOST.

Cease louing Subiects, cease my death for to deplore,
And do no more with dririe cryes my dolful hearse decore
Though like Cynegirus, when both the hands are gone,
Yee would detaine me with your teeth in my Emperiall throne.
Bee Thracians now I pray, and hence-foorth cease to mone,
Ere it be long in quiet peace ye shall finde fiue for one:
For if you can beleeue my prophetizing ghost,
Æneas gaue Anchises trust, you shall not thinke me lost.
The death of one (some say) the birth of one should bee:
Three mails & femels two you haue, most famous fiue for mee:
For as I seald my Will, my Designation dew,
And did concredit by the rest to my Achates trew:
So now my ghost is glad, that by my care his paine,
My countries haue their lawfull King, the King his crowns againe,
Then bransh imbellis'd soyle, most pleasant, most perfite:
The onely earthly Eden now for pleasure and delighte.
Rich England now reioyce, heaue vp to heauen thy hands,
The blessed Lord hath blest thy bounds beyond al other lands.
Since no Sardanapal is now become thy King,
No Dionise nor Nero proud, my death to thee doth bring.
A King vnwoont to giue, or yet to take offence:
A godly Dauid ruleth now, a Prophet and a Prince.

The Pupill now is blith, the Widow weepes not now,
No depredations in thy boundes, the Rushbush keeps the Kow,
The Lyons now agree, and do in Peace delight:
The Thirsel now defends & guards the red Rose & the white.
The british Saints shake hands with crosses ioynd and spred,
Whose cullours on the glassie salt no terror small haue bred:
Those now conioynd in one through Neptuns bounded roares,
Shal make the ventring merche and sail secure to forane shoares:
Flee swift-wingd Fame & tell the best & rarest new's
That time hath yet brought soorth by night or dayes delightfull hew's,
For Ships & Swans most rich, most faire, & famous Thamis,
Tell Neptune, Thetis, Triton too the haps of great king IAMES.
Thou murdring Galliglas, who long my Laws withstood,
Learne to obey, and bath no more thy blade in british blood:
All you my Subiects deire, do homage dew to him,
And that shal make my blessed ghost in boundles ioyes to swim.

SONET, To his Maiestie of the Vnion of the two famous Realmes Scotland and England.

Scilurus had twice fourtie Children male,
And teaching them in peace to passe their dayes,
And that no foe should gainst their force preuale,
His louing minde hee wisely thus bewrayes:
A bundle of Darts before their eyes he layes,
And pray'd each Sonne to breake the same: at length,
When hee and hee to crush those Darts assayes,
But all in vaine; hee told them Vnions strength.
You are a Father, and a famous Prence,
Great are the bounds which are great King thine owne,
And like a sacred Scilure in this sence,
Keepes Britaine whole, least it should be ouerthrowne.
The God of heau'n effect what thou intends,
And bring thy proiects to their happie ends.

To the Queens most Excellent Maiestie.

1. SONET.

In Pallas Church did wretched Irus stand,
And saw her paynted on the Chalk-whit wall,
With Booke in one, and Sword in other hand:
And on his face (poore soule) did flatlings fall.
Syne sayd aloud, since I allace am thrall
To pouertie, that I may not propine
Thy Godhead great, with gift nor great nor small,
Yet while I liue, my seruice shall be thine.
So all the pow'rs of this my poore Ingyne,
Shall bee (Faire Dame) employed to pen thy praise.
Thou in Cymmerian gloomie darke shall shyne,
And on thy Vertues, worlds to come shall gaize.
Thus Irus-like wise Pallas I adore,
And honour thee, since I can do no more.

2. SONET.

Of her Highnes Natall; being the shortest day.

Great mightie IOVE from his imperiall place,
And all the GODS for blythnes of Thy Birth,
Came downe from Heau'n to see thy fairest face,

Glad to Be guarded by thy beauties girth.
And Neptune fet his Flocks out through the Firth,
With all the Nymphs in Floods and Seais that dwell:
On Balens backs they mounted, made their mirth,
To see thy shapp, all leiuing leids excell:
And Phœbus father to the Fooll that fell,
In lowest state his yocked Horse did stay;
But fearing least thy beam's should burne him fell,
Hee stole aback, and vpward went away.
And for thy saik thy Natall day each yeir,
He visits yet into his lowest spheir.

3. SONET.

New yeir Gift.

This Apill round I send, ô matchles fare!
As children do for thryse als good agane,
Not such as that by which th' Enbean rare,
The loue of his Atlanta suift did gane:
Nor that by which Acontius did beguile
Cydippe sweet in sacred Dian's Fane.
My minde abhors all such inuention vile,
No secreit slight doth in my gift remane:
It more resembleth that which Ate threw
Mongst Pallas, Iuno, Venus, Dames diuine.
To thee great Queene of all this courtly crew,
I do present this paynted Apill mine.
Were it of Gold, or Paris I, faire Dame,
It should be thine, thou best deseru's the same.

4. SONET.

Those famous old Gymnosophists of Inde,
Which Alexander did so much admire,
And compted but as churlish and vnkinde,
Cause they refus'd his offred Gold and geir.
Their greatest care and studie was we heir,
To view and marke the motions of the Sunn,
To know his courses in his Zodiac Spheir.
From Phospor's rysing till the night begun.
Such is my state, O sacred Saint by thee,
I am a poore Gymnosophist of thine,
Thou art that Sunn which I delight to see,
No wealth I wish but that on mee thou shine.
They long'd for night, so long-some was their day,
Blithe would I bee for to behold thee ay.

TO THE VERTVOVS AND ACCOMPLISHED Sir IAMES HAY Knight, one of his Highnes most royall bed-chamber.

THE CVCKOE, AND PHILOMEL.

CRAIGE to his Riuall.

The Cucko once (some say) would Philomel assaile,
Arachne-like, if shee or shee in singing should preuaile:
The garrient Goke would needs with Prognes sister striue,
And proudly prease poore Philomel of dew praise to depriue
Then was the long eard Asse made Iudge vnto their Song,
Who with the Cucko sentence gaue, & wrought the other wrong.
O Arbiter vnfit to such discording tunes,
Yet iarring notes from Layis diuine rude Nature still seiuns.
This mak's poore Philomel repent, and oft repeit,
In thornie braiks by sabill night th' Arcadian beasts decreit.
Such is my carefull case, my riuall foe I see,
For all these charming Songs of mine is farr preferd to mee:
For al the Sonnets sweet that I can sing or say,
Or send to her, I cum no speid, the Cucko is my stay:
And shee whom still I serue, most like that long eard beast,
Maks mee by her decreit to leue inglorious and disgrac't.
But what remeid I rest, content to want reward,
Since Cuckoes are in such accompt, and Philomel debard.
Since Phœbus stoops to Pan, and Minerue glad to yeild
Vnto th' inuennomd Spiders webb, I gladly loose the feild,
Yet shall I still complaine, nay shall shee heir mee cry,
The Philomel sings to her selfe, and hencefoorth so shall I.

APOLOGIE FOR HIS RIVAL.

The Cucko once (tis trew) in singing, did compare
With Prognes sister Philomel, Pandions daughter faire:
And then the Asine graue, pronounc'd a sentence trew,
For many arguments, of which fond Riual read those few.
The Cucko with sweet songs saluts the yeerly Spring,
Poore Philomel in tragic tunes of Terens wrongs doth sing.
Through tops of tallest trees the soaring Cucko flies,
While Philomel in lowest shrubs complains, dispairs, & dies.
The Cuckoes not's declare of humane life the date,
While hart-broke Philomel must still her painefull plaints repeate.
The Cucko sings her name, no borrowed note nor strange,
While Philomel for Itis blood, a thousand tunes must change.
The Titling doth attend the Cucko late and aire,
And of her egs and Plumeles birds she taks continuall care,
None tends poore Philomel, for all her charms and chrils,
Yea if she fleip, the poynted thorne out-through her breist-bone thrils
The Cucko spends the Spring in mirth both eue and morne,
And to the ielus heirar still portends the forked Horne.
At Iunoes sute great Ioue became a Cucko faire:
Why shuld the brood of Grecian Kings, with Gods aboue compaire?
Then Phœbus stoope to Pan, be Minerue glad to yeeild
Vnto th' inuennomd Spiders web, for thou must loose the feild:
And thou must be content to weepe, and want reward,
Since Cuckoes are in such accompt, and Philomel debard.
Thou to thy selfe complains, alone thou weepes and murns,
Do so poore soule till fortune change, whose sauour goes by turns.

APPELLATION TO THE LION.

The Lion some time went abraode to spy his pray,
And with the Fox he made the Asse cōpanions of his way,
Through wildsome wayles wayes & foraine fells they fare,
To find some food, which sound, the Asse wold needs diuide & share,
And thus triparts the pray, and sets his terce aside:
Yet died therefore; iust punishment of ignorance and pride.
But lo the fraudfull Fox did greeid and greife disgyse,
And by the Asins miserie with wealth of wils was wyse,
Now neither perrils past, nor no examples new,
Can mooue the Asins of this age; O damn'd iudocil crew:
That long eaird beast my Iudge hath made my riuall sleepe,
Fools concolor in fauours lap, while I poore wretch must weepe.
Then Lion great of Kings, and King of Lions all,
To thee my Soueraigne and my Iudge, I do appeale and call:
Thou heares and sees my wrongs, thou must dread Leige alone
Correct the Cucko, and detrude the Asine from his throne.
I like Xantippus Dogg, haue faund and followed thee,
And will thou suffer mee in sight of Salamin to die.
It greeues my heart to see those Cuckoes of the Spring,
Those tamed beasts, whom Bion haits, what flattering tunes they sing.
I burst when I behold braue Homers Cloake so bare,
When eu'ry foole & simple sheepe the golden fleece doth weare
To thee alone I flie, in hope to find refuge:
Why should the leaud and lasie Asse to numered lyus be Iuge?
My Fortune and my Fate do both depend on thee,
My Spring expireth, shall I sing, or shall I silent bee?
Set downe thy sentence heir, and quickly cure my care,
Or let my wretched life take end twixt silence and dispare.

TO HIS ANONIM FREIND and Mistres PALINODE.

In Annals old we read Ioue had but daughters two,
The one with Ceres he begat, Proserpine hight, and so
Her for her beauties saik, proud Pluto Prince of hell,
Amid the flowrie medowes spoild, and keepes vnto him sell:
The other Helene fayre in likenesse of a Swan,
He gat with Læda, and beguild poore Tyndarus her man.
Hir Theseus tooke away, and had to Athens home,
And made her Hymens rupture long ere Menelaus come.
Thus Ioue no daughter had vnspoyld at all you see,
Yet must Pirithous haue one to keepe his oath, or dee.
Braue Theseus was his friend, his loue he would not haue:
Then must Prosepine be spoild from Plutoes pitchie caue:
(For who can be content bright beautie should be chaind,
Or in Cymmerian gloomy darke with Dis should be detain'd?)
Thus to the hells he haists, and is by Cerber slaine:
And Theseus till Alcides came, in fetters did remaine:
O monument most rare of true and perfect loue,
Which neither beautie nor the hells could any way remoue.
Though Tyndaris was blaz'd the brightest that hath beene,
Pirithous would from her loue for Theseus loue absteene:
And when Pirithous tooke iourney towards hell,
Braue Theseus would accompany his friend, as stories tell:
But faith, nor truth on earth, nor friendship now is naine,
And Pithias now will loose his life, or Damon come againe.
There is no loue allace vpon this mournefull molde,
Least Mydas-like a man may turne each thing by tuch in golde.

False Eriphile now regards but greeid of gaine,
And will betray Amphiaraus to get a golden chaine.
The Belidean Dames in number fiue times ten,
(There is no Hypermnestra now) will kill their maried men.
False proud Polinices will Theban crowne possesse,
And banish poore Eteocles gainst parents will expresse:
And proud Plexirtus too Leonats bastard brother,
Makes Tydeus striue with Tolenor, and one to kill the other.
Urania Klaius sturs with Strephon still to striue.
Nor can the Prince of Macedon find Musidor online.
Thus looke from sex to sex, no fayth nor truth remains,
Crow's flee but where the Carion lyes, & worldlings go for gains,
I speak not now allace, by speculation vaine,
A practique in my persone past procurs my peereles paine:
For why, I som-time had a Mistres and a Freind,
She fals falte frequent to that sex: hee les woorth nor I weind:
She limping Uulcan still admits in Mauors bed,
Hee like a subtill Sinon goes in Damons liuerie cled:
Shee Pluto black for me doth in her bed imbrace,
Hee but a caus hath cast me off: O care contryuing case.
Was thou not once to mee Pandora deir and sweit,
Till thou vntyed the balefull box with painefull plages repleit?
And was thou not againe a Kallias vnto mee?
But foolish Alcibiad I, to trust so much in thee.
Then, Som-time Freind, farewel; farewell my late lost Loue:
A Lais light, a Sinon fals, thus maks mee to remoue.
Betwix this doolefull deuce, how can my dayes indure,
Sence he hath playd the hypocrit, and shee the hatefull hoore?
And yet for kindnes old, I will conceyl your names,
And make your conscience black, a Iudge to both your secret shames.
And sence both thou, and thou, haue thus contriu'd my fall,
Dis keeps my Dame, Dis katch my freind, & make me free of all.

SONET.

[I some time had a Mistres, and a Freind]

I some time had a Mistres, and a Freind;
Shee fair, hee good; and louely both to mee:
But both are wax'd vnwoorthier nor I weind:
Deceitfull shee, and most vnconstant hee:
Thus for each lyne, I giue my selfe a lye,
That heretofore in to their praise I pend,
Hee, shee, and I, are alwayes chayng'd all three:
They first, I last; and thus our Loues must end.
Trew Friends allace, lyke blackest Swans are rare,
And fayrest faices full of most deceat.
This causes mee alone for to regreat,
And from each eye to wring a bloodie teare:
And since no sex beneath the Sunne is trew,
False friend fareweell, faire facill Dame adew.

TO HIS CALIDONIAN MISTRIS.

To his Calidonian MISTRIS.

Themistocles after a great Victorie by nauall Battell, came to visite the slaughtered bodyes of his Enemies, and found by the Seaside many Iewels and Chaynes scattered. Then said he to his freind who then by chaunce followed him, Gather these spoyles, for thou art not Themistocles. This worthles Epistle like a loose or neglected Iewell, though the wise and woorthy Themistocles ouerpas, I pray thee sweete Mistes peruse and preserue, least it perish; sence too, and for thee, it is done: when I am absent, or dead, it may breed thy delight, and make thee haplie remember thou once had A louing and kind man, CRAIGE.
When I remember on that time, that place,
Where first I fix'd my fansie on thy face,
The circumstances how, why, where, and whan
My Mistres thou, and I became thy Man:
Whilst I repeat that proces full of paine,
How first we met, and how we twind againe,
Our sweete acquaintance, and our sad depart,
It breedes a sea of sorrowes at my hart:
And yet for all these sorrowes I susteine,
With sigh swolne hart, and teares bedewed eyne,
As I haue lou'd, so shall I loue thee still
Vnto the death, hap either good or ill.
And now I sweare by that true loue I owe thee,
By all the sighs which day by day I blow thee:
By all the verse and charming words I told thee,
By all the hopes I haue for to beholde thee:
By all the kisses sweete which I haue reft thee,
And all the teares I spent since last I left thee:
That absence helps (not hinders my desire)
And sets new force and Fagots to my fire:
Each thing that chance presents and lets me see,
Brings arguments, and bids me thinke on thee.
For when they told me of that wrathfull flame,
Which from the high and holy heau'n downe came
On Pauls faire Church, and that cloud-threatning Steeple,
And how it flam'd in presence of the people.

Then with my selfe thought I, this fire was quensht,
But mine endures, and by no tears is drensht:
And were not hope accrestis with desire,
I had long since consum'd amid this fire.
And when I viewd those walles of Farnhame sayre,
Where Lamuel with his Lady made repaire:
I layd me downe beside the ditch profound,
Where Guineuer dispairing Dame was dround,
And fell on sleep vpon that fatall brinke,
And still on thee sweete hart I dreame, I thinke.
And were it not, that by the tract of time
The well was full with earth, with stone, and lime,
There had I drownd, and by my fatall fall
Made end with her of loue, and life, and all:
Yet halfe asham'd least curious eyes should finde me,
I went away, and left huge teaires behind me.
And when I spide those stones on Sarum plaine,
Which Merlin by his Magicke brought, some faine,
By night from farr I-erne to this land,
Where yet as oldest Monuments they stand:
And though they be but few for to behold,
Yet can they not (it is well knowne) be told,
Those I compard vnto my plaints and cryes,
Whose totall summe no numers can comprise.
Olde Woodstocks wrackes to view I was despos'd,
Where Rosamond by Henrie was inclos'd:
The circuits all and wildesome wayes I view,
The Laberinth, and Cliffords fatall Clew.
And where those time-worne monuments had beene,
Where nought remaines but ruines to be seene:
Yet in my hart moe wracks, moe wayes I fand,
Then can be made by any humane hand.
And all these wondrous wonders which I see,
Makes me but wonder more and more on thee.

That thou be well both day and night I pray,
And for thy health once I carrouse each day:
From pype of Loame and for thy saike I souke,
The flegm-attractiue far-fett Indian smouke:
Which with my braine and stomach beares debate,
And like the lethall Aconite I hate,
That poysning potion pleasant seems to mee,
When I determe it must be drunke for thee.
From Venus sports I doo indeed abstaine,
Nor am I now as I was woont so vaine:
Chast Dians laws I do adore for good,
Who kild her loue Orion in the flood.
Drunke Bacchus maits I hold for none of mine,
I taste no Celtic nor Iberian Wine:
Looke on my Lyns Lyœum, none they smell,
But Helicons poore streams, where Muses dwell.
For all those rare delights which England yeilds,
Of faces faire, of braue and fertill feilds:
For all the pleasurs which our Court frequent,
Such as mans heart would wish, or witt inuent:
Yet I protest, I rather begg with thee,
Then be sole King, where seau'n were wont to bee.
But when my Freend thy berar spurd with pane,
The Poist to see this Chalkie shoare agane,
And brought thy symboll discolor of hew,
With commendations kind, but not anew,
I ask'd him how thou was? hee shooke his head.
What man (quoth I) and is my Mistres dead?
No (answerd hee) but seik deir freend: Quoth I,
Thou know's I loue; I pray thee make no lye.
In faith but seik, and is no doubt err now,
As weell (sayd hee) as ather I or yow.
This hee affirmd with solem oaths anew:
And yet allace I doubt if they betrew

Here where the Pest approacheth vs so narr,
To smoother breath before wee be aware:
For at the gates of our most royll King,
Corrupted Carions lie; O fearefull thing:
Yet feare I still for thee, my loue is such,
And for my selfe I feare not halfe so much:
And now I feare these fears ere it be-long,
Will turne to Agues, and to Feuers strong.
Long are my nights, and dolefull are my dayes:
Shott sleeps, long waks; and wildsom are my wayes:
Sadd are my thoughts, sowr sighs; and salt my tearis:
My body thus els waik both wayn's and wearis.
For losse of Calice, Marie Englands Queene,
Had sighs at hart, and teirs about her eyne,
When I am dead, caus ryme my hart sayd shee;
And in the same shall Calice writen bee,
Die when I will, thy name shall well be knawne,
Within my hart in bloods characters drawne.
But if (faire Dame) as yet on liff thou bee,
This Papyre then commends my loue to thee:
And if thy life by wrathfull weirds be lost,
Chast Laura then thy Petrarch loues thy ghost:
And yet my hopes assures mee thou art weell,
And in these hopes a comfort hidd I feell.
This for the time sweet hart, that thou may kno,
I leaue thy man, and loue but thee; and so,
Till by thy wreat I know thy further will,
I say no more, but sigh, and seals my Bill.

SONET.

[From this Abydos where I duyne and die]

From this Abydos where I duyne and die,
And sore God know's against my hart remaine,
I wreat with wo sweet Sestian Saint to thee,
And blacke this Paper with the Inck of paine,
No waltering waues of Neptuns moone-mou'd maine:
Nor Hellesponts impetuous contrare tyde,
No Sea nor Flood, no stormie Wind nor Raine,
Are lets or barrs that from thy bounds I bide,
My wayes allace doth ielous Argus keepe,
And I am not acquent with Mercur's skill,
To lull and bring his watching eyes asleepe,
That I may wish, and thou may haue thy will:
Yet till we meet, a constant Hero proue,
And whill I liue thou art Leanders Loue.
CRAIGE.

To the Kings most Royall Maiestie.

1. SONET.

[Kind Attalus in Annals old wee reid]

Kind Attalus in Annals old wee reid,
Was King of Pergame by the Romans ayde,
Hee long time brookt the same, but foraine feid,
Which made those noble Romans to be glad:
And yet becaus hee had no heyrs, 'tis sayd
Hee to those foresayd Romans did resigne,
His Diadem and Crowne, and what he hade
Hee gaue to them, that erst made him a King.
Hade I been made no Poet S. but Prince
Of fertill bounds for Parnase bare and dry,
Your Grace had gott my Crowne and all long since,
For I laik heyrs, and none more kind then I.
To vse thee sweet inchanting Poets vaine,
You gaue mee Reuls, I giue you Ryms againe.

2. SONET.

[Anacreon two dayes two nights did watch]

Anacreon two dayes two nights did watch,
Till he return'd Policrates againe;
These Talents two which hee receiud, fond wratch,
To wake for wealth, and pinch him selfe with paine.
But contrare wayes, I saikes soull am slaine:
I wake for want, and not for wealth allace:
My voyce is hoatse with cryes; dry is my braine,
Yet get I not the smallest graine of grace.
A Cythared though poore, did sweetly sing,
Caus Dionise did promise him reward.
And thus to thee I wreat most gratious King
In hope thy Grace will once my greiffs regard:
And by my Pen thy prayses shall be spred,
From rysing Sunn to his Hesperean bed.
Non omnis moriar.
CRAIGE.

To the Author.

Why thought fond Grece to build a solid fame,
On fleeing shades of fables passing vaine?
Why did herselfe-deceauing fansie dreame,
That none but shee, the Muses did maintaine?
Shee sayd, these sacred Sisters did remaine
Confind within a Craig which there did lie,
That great Apollo selfe did not disdaine,
For that rough Palace, to renounce the skie:
That there a Well still drawne, but neuer dry,
Made Lay-men Poets eir they left the place:
But all were ta'ls, which Fame doth now bely,
And builds vp Albions glore, to their disgrace.
Lo here the CRAIGE, whence flow's that sacred Well,
Where Phœbus raigns, where all the Muses dwell.
Ro. Aytone.
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