The complete works of John Lyly :: :: University of Virginia Library

The complete works of John Lyly

now for the first time collected and edited from the earliest quartos with life, bibliography, essays, notes and index by R. Warwick Bond

Lyly, John (1554?-1606)

VOL. I

III.

VOL. III

CERTAINE ENGLISHE Verses, presented vnto the Queenes most excellent Maiestie, by a Courtier: In ioy of the most happie disclosing, of the most dangerous conspiracies pretended by the late executed Traitours, against her royall person, and the whole Estate.

POEMS

I. Early Autobiographical: 1575–1580?

II.

II. Early Love-Poems: BEFORE 1580?

III.

III. Four Songs

IV.

IV. Later Love-Poems.

V. Later Autobiographical: 1595–1600?

VI.

VI Epigrams.

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433

POEMS

(DOUBTFUL)

448

I. Early Autobiographical: 1575–1580?

1.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When I behoulde the trees in the earthes fayre lyuerye clothed]

When I behoulde the trees in the earthes fayre lyuerye clothed
Ease I do feele, suche ease as faulles to me wholy diseased
For that I fynde in them parte of my state represented
Lawrell showes what I seek, by ye Myrr is showde how I seek it
Olyue poyntes me the pryce that I muste aspyre to by conquest
Myrtle makes me requeste, my requeste is vnsealde by a Willowe
Cipruss promisethe healpe, but healp yt bringes me no comfort
Sweet Iuniper sayes thus, thoughe I burne, yet I burn in a sweet fyre
Ewe dothe make me thinke what kynd of bowe the boye houldethe,
Whiche shootes throughe wthout any noyse and deadlye wthout smarte.
Firr tree is great and greene fyxte one a hye hill but a barren.
Lyke to my noble thoughtes styll newe, well plaste, to me fruteless.
Figg that yealdes moste pleasaunt frute his shadow is hurtefull.
Thus be her guifts most sweet thus most dawnger to be neere her
But in Palme when I mark howe he dothe ryse vnder a burthen
And maye not I saye than get vp thoughe grefes be so wayghtye
Pyne is a maste to a shipp, to my shipp shall hope for a mast serue
Pyne is hyghe, hope is as hyghe, yet be my hopes budded.
Elme imbraste by a Vine, embracinge fancye reuiuethe.
Popler chaungethe his hewe, from a rysinge sun̄ to a settinge.
Thus to my sunn do I yealde, suche lookes her beames do afford me,
Ould aged oke cutt doune for new workes serues to the buildinge
So my desyrs by feare cut downe for ye frames of her honor
Palmes do reioyse to be ioynde wth ye matche of a male to a femall
And shall sensiue thinges be so sensless as to resist sense
Ashe makes speare wch sheilds do resiste, hir force no repuls takes
Thus be my thoughts disperst thus thinkinge nowrsest a thought still
But to the Cædar queen of woodes when I lyft my betrayde eys
Than do I shape my selfe that forme wch raygnes so within me
And thinke ther she dothe dwell and here wt pllaynts I do vtter
When that noble topp dothe nodd I beleiue she salutes me
Than kneelinge often thus I do speake to her image.
Onlye Iewell, all onlye Iewell, whiche onlye deserueste

449

That mens heartes be thy seat and endless fame be yi seruante
O descend for a whill from this great hyghte to behoulde me
But nought else do behoulde or it is not worthe the behouldinge
Se what a thought is wrought by thy selfe! and since I am alltred
Thus by thy werck disdayne not[e] that wch is by thy selfe done.
In meane caues oft treasuer abydes, to an hostry a kinge comes
—And so behind black cloudes full oft fayer streams do ly hidden.

FINIS.

2.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[No place commendes the man vnworthie praise.]

No place commendes the man vnworthie praise.
No title of state doth stay vp vices fall:
No wicked wight to wo can make delayes,
No loftie lookes preserue the proude at all
No brags or boast, no stature high and tall,
No lusty yought, no swearing, stareing stout,
No brauerie, banding, cogging, cutting out.

Then what availes to haue a Princly place,
A name of honour or an high degree,
To come by kindred of a noble race?
Except wee Princely, worthie, noble be.
The fruites declare the goodnes of the tree.
Doe br[a]gge no more, of birth or linage than,
ffor vertue, grace, and manners make the man.

3.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[How can he rule well in a common wealth]

How can he rule well in a common wealth,
Which knoweth not himselfe in rule to frame?
How should he rule himselfe in ghostly health
Which neuer learn'd one lesson for the same?
If such catch harme their parents are to blame:
ffor needes must they be blinde, and blindly led,
Where no good lesson can be taught or read.

Some thinke their youth discreete and wisely taught,
That brag, and boast, and weare their fether braue,
Can royst and rout, both lowre and looke aloft,
Can sweare and stare, and call their fellowes knaue,
Can pill and poll, and catch before they craue,
Can carde and dice, both cog and foyste at fare,
Play on vnthriftie, till their purse be bare.

Some teach their youth to pipe, to sing and daunce,
To hauke, to hunt, to choose and kill their game.

450

To winde their horne, and with their horse to praunce,
To play at tennis, set the lute in frame,
Run at the ring, and vse such other game:
Which feats although they be not all vnfit,
Yet cannot they the marke of vertue hit.

ffor Noble yought there is nothing so meete
As learning is, to knowe the good from ill:
To know the tongues, and perfectly endyte,
And of the lawes to haue a perfect skill,
Thinges to reforme as right and iustice will:
ffor honnour is ordeyned for no cause
But to see right maintayned by the lawes.

4.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[What liquor first the earthen pot doth take]

What liquor first the earthen pot doth take,
It keepeth still the sauour of the same.
ffull hard it is a Camocke straight to make,
Or wainscot fyne with crooked logges to frame.
Tis hard to make the cruell Tiger tame.
And so it fares with those haue vices caught:
Naught once (they say) and euer after naught.

I speake no[t] this as though it past all cure
ffrom vices vile to vertue to retire:
But this I say, if vice be once in vre,
The more you shall to quite your selfe require,
The more you plunge yor selfe in fulsome mire,
As he that striues in soakte quicke sirts of sand,
Still sinkes, scarce euer comes againe to land.

5.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[O loath that Loue whose fynall ayme is Lust]

O loath that Loue whose fynall ayme is Lust
Moth of the mynde, Eclipse of Reasons light
The graue of Grace, the mole of Natures Rust
The wracke of witt, the wronge of euery wight.
In Sum̄e an euill, whose harmes no tonge can tell
In wch to Liue is death, to dye is Hell.

6.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The brainsicke race that wanton youth ensues]

The brainsicke race that wanton youth ensues,
Without regard to grounded wisdomes lore,
As often as I thinke thereon, renues
The fresh remembrance of an ancient sore:

451

Reuoking to my pensiue thoughts at last,
The worlds of wickednes that I haue past.

And though experience bids me bite on bit,
And champe the bridle of a bitter smacke,
Yet costly is the price of after wit,
Which brings so cold repentance at hir backe:
And skill that's with so many losses bought,
Men say is little better worth than nought.

And yet this fruit, I must confesse, doth growe
Of follies scourge: that though I now complaine
Of error past, yet henceforth I may knowe
To shun the whip that threats the like againe:
For wise men though they smart a while, had leuer
To learne experience at the last, than neuer.

7.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I feare not death, feare is more paine]

I feare not death, feare is more paine
then death it selfe to courage true:
In youth who dies or else is slaine
paies nature but a debt yts due.
Who yongest dies he doth [but] paye
a debt (he owes) before the daye

And such a debte longer to haue
doth nothinge profite men at all
Death is a debt nature doth craue
and must be pay'd by great & small.
I loth not warres, nor longe for strife
I feare not death, nor hate not life.

8.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I will not soare aloft the skye]

I will not soare aloft the skye
With Icarus so farr frō ground
Least that ye Sunn my winges do [fry]
and fallinge downe wth him be dround
The middle Region will I keepe
when others wake secure to sleepe.

And as high flights ile not attempt
So neither will I fly so lowe
to be a marke for base contempt
to shoote and hitt me with his Bowe.
If yt he striue to shoote so hie
his Bowe about his eares shall flie.

452

Lowe shrubbs ye silly beastes do cropp:
high trees great tempests do thē crack
The meane growe[n] tree wth slend[er] topp
is free from beastes & tempests wrack
Neither base nor treble will I singe
the Meane is still ye sweetest stringe.

9.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Councell wch afterward is soughte]

Councell wch afterward is soughte
is like vntimely showres
Distillinge from the duskie cloudes
when heate hath parcht ye flowres.

10.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Soare I will not, in flighte the grounde ile see]

Soare I will not, in flighte the grounde ile see
The careless mind scornes fortunes angrie frowne,
Either life or death indifferent is to mee,
Preferr I do content before a crowne:
High thoughts I clipp, no stoutenes throwes me downe
Euen loftiest lookes in small regard I burie
Not feare their force, nor force not of yeir furie.

Riche in content, my Wealth is health & ease
A conscience cleare my chiefe & sure defence,
Disdaine I do by flatt'ringe meanes to please
For by deserts I will not giue offence.
Only a wronge reuenge shall recompence:
Rest Muse, I feare no foe, nor frowne on frend
Dispise not life, nor yet I dreade not end.

11.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[If all the Earthe were paper white]

If all the Earthe were paper white
and all the sea were incke
Twere not inough for me to write
as my poore hart doth thinke.

12.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The lofty trees whose braūches make sweete shades]

The lofty trees whose braūches make sweete shades
Whose armes in springe are richely dighte wth flowrs
Without ye roote their glory quickly fades
& all in vaine comes pleasant Aprill showrs.
No loue can be at all without ye hart
nor Musick made excep[t] the Base beares parte.

453

The princely towrs whose pride exceedes in show
if ther foundations be not stronge & sownde
Are subiect to ye smallest windes yt blowe
& highest toppes are brought to lowest ground.
No fielde is sweete whē all is scortchd wth drowte
nor musick good when so ye base is out.

13. A Dittie, wherein is contained divers good and necessary documents, which beeing embraced and followed earnestly, may cause a man to shunne manie evilles and mischaunces, that may otherwise fall upon him, ere he can beware.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[_]

This Ditty may be sung to the high ‘Allemaigne Measure’; singing every last straine twise with the musicque.

‘Softe fire makes sweete mault,’ they say;
Few words well plast the wise will way.
Time idle spent, in trifles vaine,
Returnes no guerdon for thy paine:
But time well spent, doth profite bring,
And of good works will honour spring.
Bestow thy time then in such sort,
That vertue may thy deedes support:
The greater profite thou shalt see,
And better fame will goe of thee.

In talke be sober, wise, and sadde,
Faire to thy freend, kind to the badde;
And let thy words so placed bee
As no man may finde fault with thee.
Nor meddle not in any case
With matters which thy witte surpasse:
With things that not to thee pertaines,
It folly were to beate thy braines;
For sudden blame may hap to thee,
In medling unadvisedly.

Take heede, in any wise, I say,
What things thou goest about to-day,
That thou to-morrow not repent,
And with thy selfe be discontent.
Speake not such words to others' blame,
As afterward may turne thee shame.

454

To-day thou speakest, and doost not care,
But of tomorrow still beware:
For then thou canst not call againe,
What lavishly did passe thy braine.

Keepe secrete closely in thy minde
Things that thy state and credite binde;
Beware, if thou doo them disclose,
To whom and where, for feare of foes:
Especially of him take heede
Whose trueth thou doost not know in deede.
For hard it is thy freend to know
From him that is a flattering foe:
And many men in showe are kind,
Yet worse then serpents in their mind.

Be not too hasty in thy deedes;
Of too much haste oft harme proceedes.
Be sober, mute; take good advise,
For things too much are full of vice.
With moderation rule thee so,
As thou aside no way maist go:
For ‘haste makes waste,’ as proofe dooth say,
And little said, soone mend ye may.
Forecast what after may befall;
So shalt thou not be rashe at all.

Have minde still of thine owne offence,
Regard thy faults with good pretence:
Seeke not a moate in one to spie,
First pull the beame out of thine eye.
And find no fault with any man,
Except amend thy selfe thou can:
And when thy faults amended be,
The good that others see in thee,
Will learne them so their deedes to frame,
As they may likewise scape from blame.

Of no man give thou bad report,
Backbite not any in thy sport:
For words doo wound as deepe as swords,
Which many use in jesting boordes;
And slaunder is a hainous hate,
Which dooth nought els but stirre debate;
And twixt good freendes makes deadly strife,
To hazard one another's life:

455

And all this may proceede of thee,
Except thou wilt advised bee.

Beare freendly with thy neighbours fault,
Remember thou thy selfe maist halt.
If he hath ought offended thee,
Forgive, as thou the like wouldest be:
And thinke, if thou hast gone awrie,
Thou for forgivenesse must apply:
So with thy neighbour's faults doo beare,
And of thine owne stand still in feare.
Pardon as thou wouldest pardoned be,
So God will pardon him and thee.

Be gentle unto every wight,
Let courtesie be thy delight:
Familiar be with few, I say;
For sure it is the wisest waie.
Too much familiaritie
May bring thy sorrowes suddainly:
Therefore, keepe gentlenesse in mind;
To rich and poore be alwaies kind:
So pride shall never conquere thee,
Which is man's cheefest enemie.

14. A Dittie, wherein the brevitie of man's life is described, how soone his pompe vanisheth away, and he brought to his latest home.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[_]

This Ditty may be sung to the ‘Venetian Allemaigne.’

The statelie pine whose braunches spreade so faire,
By winde or weather wasted is at length;
The sturdie oake that clymeth in the ayre,
In time dooth lose his beautie and his strength;
The fayrest flower that florisht as to daie,
To-morrow seemeth like the withered haie.

So fares it with the present state of man,
Whose showe of healthe dooth argue manie yeeres:
But as his life is likened to a span,
So suddaine sicknes pulles him from his peeres;
And where he seemde for longer time to-daie,
To-morrow lies he as a lumpe of clay.

456

The infant yong, the milk-white aged head,
The gallant youth that braveth with the best,
We see with earth are quickly over-spreade,
And both alike brought to their latest rest:
As soone to market commeth to be solde,
The tender lambe's skin, as the weather's old.

Death is not partiall: as the proverbe saies,
The prince and peasant both with him are one;
The sweetest face that's painted now a daies,
And highest head, set forth with pearle and stone,
When he hath brought them to the earthly grave,
Beare no more reckoning then the poorest slave.

The wealthy chuffe, that makes his gold his god,
And scrapes and scratches all the mucke he may;
And with the world dooth play at even and od;
When Death thinks good to take him hence away,
Hath no more ritches in his winding-sheete,
Then the poore soule that sterved in the streete.

Unhappie man! that runneth on thy race,
Not minding where thy crased bones must rest:
But woe to thee that doost forget thy place,
Purchast for thee, to live amongst the blest.
Spend then thy life in such a good regard,
That Christe's blessing may be thy reward!

15. A Glasse for all Men to behold themselves in; especially such proude and prodigall-minded Men, and such delicate and daintie Women, ‘who building on the pride of their beautie and amiable complexion, thinke scorne to become aged; and that their sweete faces should be wrinckled, or their youthfulnes brought into subjection by age.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[_]

This Ditty may be sung to the ‘Earle of Oxenford's Galliard.’

You youthfull heads, whose climing mindes
Doo seeke for worldly praise,
Whose yong desires doo seeme to scorne
Olde age's staied waies.
Beare with the plaine-song of my note,
Which is so plaine in deede,
As daintie mindes will scant endure
So harshe a tale to reade.

457

As nature hath endued your shapes
With exquisite perfection;
And gives you choyse of sweete delights,
Wherein you have affection:
When time hath runne his course in you,
The selfe-same nature saies—
That all these daintie toyes must die,
Whereof you made your praise.

Marke how the yeere in course doth passe:
Note first the plesant spring;
The earth by nature then affoordes
Full many a precious thing:
Of fruits, of flowres, of wholsome hearbes
We gather as we please;
And all things els we lacke beside,
Our needfull wants to ease.

And likewise, in this pleasant time,
We take delight to walke,
To run and play at barley-breake,
And in our gardens talke;
One freend an other dooth invite,
They feast and make good cheere;
Both rich and poore doo make pastime,
At this time of the yeere.

But wreakfull winter drawing on,
Withdraweth these delights,
And robbes us of them, one by one,
As toyes and trifling sights.
The scith cuttes downe the goodlie grasse,
That grew so greene to day;
And all the sweete and pleasant flowers
Are changed then to hay.

The trees, that bragged in their leaves,
The bitter blasts doo bight;
And chaunge them from their goodly state
To olde and withered plight:
And they that flocked to the feeldes,
When summer was so brave,
Nowe closelie creepe about the fire
For winter warmth will have.

Compare we now the yeerely chaunge,
With man's appointed race,

458

Who in the Aprill of his age
Greene humours dooth embrace:
And as Maie-flowers glad the eye,
So in his youthfull time,
Man compasseth a world of joyes,
Whereto his thoughts doo clime.

Behold, likewise, dame Beautie's gyrles,
Whose daintie mindes are such,
As not the sun-shine, nor the wind,
Must their faire faces touch:
Theyr maskes, their fannes, and all the toyes,
That wanton heads can crave,
To maintaine beautie in her pride,
These prancking dames must have.

But elder yeeres approching on
A little every daie,
Their daintie beautie dooth decline,
And vanisheth away.
And as colde Winter chaseth hence
The pleasant Summer daies,
So withered age encountreth youth,
Amidst his wanton waies.

You that thinke scorne of auncient age,
And hold him in contempt,
To make of beautie such a price,
And to vaine thoughts are bent.
Remember Nature yeelds to course,
And course his race will have,
From the first howre of your byrth
Untill you come to grave.

Age is an honour unto them
That live to see the same,
And none but vaine and foolish hands
Will blot olde age with blame;
Who oftentimes are soone cut off,
And not so happy blest,
To see the dayes their fathers did,
Before they went to rest.

Thrise happy they that spend their youth
In good and vertuous wise.
Forsaking all such vaine desires
As wanton heads surmise,

459

And wholie doo direct themselves
Unto his will that made them,
Then Folly never can have power
From Vertue to disswade them.

II. Early Love-Poems: BEFORE 1580?

16.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Who loues and would his suite should proue]

Who loues and would his suite should proue
[To] winn his Mistress to his will,
That she likes he must seeme to loue
And what she loues com̄end it still.
Then at fitt time preferr yor sute
Let not sharpe answers strike you mute.

Their Castells on such ground are sett
as vndermyninge may them take
The walls so weake no strength can lett
shott soone therein a breache will make
Their forces are so weake within
small powr serues their forts to win.

If men haue tongues to craue & pray
aswell as women to deny
No stronger is their no or nay
then force of wise mens yes or I.
For mens perswations stronger are
then womens noes are much by farr.

Their no is weake & blunt also
such weapons weakely do defend
Mens yea so sharpe will pierce their no
and Conquer them if they contend.
Then feare not force, where force is none
least feare yor force, do ouercome

There Sex withstands not place (if fitt[)]
no[r] speache, for be she base or hie
A womans ey doth guide hir witt
hir witt doth neuer guide hir eye
Then senceles is he yt can speake
feares to the best his loue to breake.

460

The brauer mart the better matche
and willinger of all is sought
And willinge sute doth euer catche
foule Vulcan so faire Venus cought
Were she a Quene she would be wonne
if cun̄ingly yor race you runne.

He that can rubb hir gamesome vaine
and also temper toyes with art
Makes Loue swim at hir eies amaine
and so to diue into hir hart
Their Sex are weake, weake forts can̄ott
wthstand the force of Can̄on shott.

I argue not of hir estate
but all my rest I sett on this
That oportunity will mate
and winn the coyest she yt is.
for to be Courted they desire
to further pleasure to aspire.

The towne wch will to parly com̄e
will yeld to peace (though hye in state)
And those no doubt will soone be wonne
yt courtinge loue which none do hate.
If bloody warres they ment to vse
perswations milde they would refuse.

Although they seeme to scorne loues beck
and in all shew the same to hate
And though at first they giue ye check
at last they gladly take the mate.
for pleasure they to play beginn
in sport they lose in sport they winn.

In words & lookes theis Ladies braue
haue coye disdaine voide of loues fire
But in their mindes & harts they haue
a feruent and a hote desire.
Reiectinge words mens suits deny
alluringe iestures do say yea.

Courtinge makes them stoope to lure
and guiftes reclaimes them to the fist
And with yt bridle and saddle sure
you well may ride them where you list
In such cariers they run on still
yt you may breake yor Launce at will.

461

If bewtifull a Lady be
with praises great you must hir moue:
If witty then be wonn will she
wth fine conceites the art of loue.
If coye she be wth prayers sue,
if proude then guifts must pleade for youe.

If Couetous she be indeede
with promises you must assay:
If wayward then wth force proceede.
but all the fault on bewtie lay:
And in one instant also vse
some rare delight wth a iust excuse.

Sayinge thus: yor bewty doth me drawe
and eke compell me this to doe
No faulte in me for as the strawe
drawne by pure Iett must leape thereto
So I beinge forc'd deserue no blame
sith that yor bewty forc'd the same.

When you haue don no doubt but she
the better like and loue you will
faire Helen may example be
howe Menelaus she hated still
His softnes made him woo in vaine
she did his humblenes disdaine.

Enforcinge Paris she did loue
and like for forcinge hir so well
That greatest dangers she would proue
with him for to remaine & dwell.
yet she confest as it was righte
the Gretian was the better knighte.

But Menelaus takes hart, and soe
by force recouers hir againe
By force makes hir with him to goe
by force enioyes hir not in vaine
for when he manlike Deedes did vse
to yeld to him she could not chuse.

And she yt neuer like him coulde
for seruice and for reuerence
Did euer after deare him holde
and loue him eke for violence
Tis modesty that they refraine
what they refuse they would haue faine.

462

Though women striue & disagree
they meane not for to ouercom̄e,
Though they full angrie seeme to be
well pleas'd they are when well tis don̄e.
They would not striue nor yet denye
but yt mens forces they would trye.

The modestie of Men I finde
they like not, yet it praises lend
They hate the fearefull dasterd minde
that offers not for feare t'offend
Then feare not for to beard the best
kindely they kindenes will digest.

If that she do dislike before
you do attempt hir for to win,
Then she can do at last no more
howe euer you hir vse therein.
With lyinge still no forte is gott
nor Castell battered wthout shott.

And women thinke there is no fire
where they no sparkes of furie see
for to be courted they desire
though they in shew displeased bee.
In womens mouthes in case of loue
no, no negatiue will proue.

A womās hart and tongue by kinde
should not be Relatiues alwaye
Neither is yt Prouerbe true I finde
What hart doth thinke, ye tongue doth say
They like ye Lapwinge off do flye
and farthest from their Nests do crye.

They vse denialls & sharpe quippes
not for because they do not loue
But partly for to shew their witts
and eke mens constancie to proue.
Though they refuse it will appeare
tis but th'obtayninge to endeare.

If women were not frendly foes
beinge hable for to ouercome
They would not softly strike wth noes
nor yet vnto a parley com̄e.
Or if mens suites they did disdaine
to answer them they would refraine.

463

Take heede do not at first shott yelde
their tongues will once the battell sounde
At last you sure shall winn the field
if that you well, will keepe yor grounde
If that ye forte she hold out longe
the next assaults then make more stronge.

When as a fearfull Horsman backs
a ready horse the horse will bounde
And for to leape he neuer slacks
till he hath throwne him to the grounde
But if a horsman good he finde
will sitt him close he yeldes by kinde.

Vnworthy life yt Hounde we deeme
wch giues ye chase of at first fault
So of such men they not esteeme
for one repulse wch leaues th'assault
That loue is weakely built they knowe
wch one denyall downe doth blowe.

If yt in chase so ill you holde
as for one faulte to leaue the same
They will suppose yor suite is colde
and thinke you care not for ye game.
for women this account do make
they will say no and yet will take.

The Souldior faint wch standeth still
in battell fearing Enemies sight
Is sooner slaine then he yt will
the brauest onsett giue in fighte
Then if you loue be not afraide
to beard the best as I haue saide.

17. Of lingeringe Loue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

1

In lingeringe Loue mislikinge growes,
Wherby our fancies ebbs and flowes:
We love to day, and hate to morne,
And dayly wher we list to scorne.
Take heede therfore,
If she mislike, then love no more:
Quicke speed makes waste,
Loue is not gotten in such haste.

464

2

The sute is colde that soone is done,
The forte is feeble easly wonne:
The haulke that soone comes by her pray,
may take a Toye and sore away.
Marke what means this,
Some thincke to hitt & yet they misse:
ffirst creepe, then goe,
Me thinke[s] our loue is handled soe.

3

ffor lacke of Bellowes the fire goes out,
Some say, the next way is about:
ffew thinges are had without some sute,
The tree at first will beare no fruite.
Serue longe, Hope well,
Loe heere is all that I can tell:
Tyme tries out troth,
And troth is likt' wher ere it goth.

4

Some thincke all theirs that they doe seeke,
Some wantons wooe but for a weeke:
Some wooe to shew their subtile witte,
Such Palfreyes play vpon their bitte.
ffine heads god knowes,
That plucke a nettle for a rose:
They meete their mach,
And fare the woorsse because they snach.

5

We silly women can not rest,
for Men that love to woe in iest:
Some lay their baite in ev'ry nooke,
And ev'ry fish doth spie their hooke.
Ill ware, good cheape,
Which makes vs looke before we leape;
Craft, can cloke much,
God saue all simple soules from such.

6

Though lingeringe Loue be lost some while,
Yet lingeringe louers laugh and smile:
Who will not linger for a day,
May banish hope and happ away.
Loue must be plide,
Who thinckes to sayle must wayte ye tide:
Thus ends this dance:
God send all ling'rers happie chance.

Finis.

465

18. A Warning for Wooers,
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

that they be not over hastie, nor deceived with womens beautie.

[_]

To—‘Salisburie Plaine.’

Ye loving wormes, come learne of me,
The plagues to leave that linked be;
The grudge, the grief, the gret anoy,
The fickle faith, the fading ioy,
In time take heed;
In fruitlesse soile sow not thy seed:
Buie not, with cost,
The thing that yeelds but labour lost.

If Cupids dart do chance to light,
So that affection dimmes thy sight;
Then raise up reason, by and by,
With skill thy heart to fortifie;
Where is a breach,
Oft times too late doth come the Leach:
Sparks are put out,
When furnace flames do rage about.

Thine owne delay must win the field,
When lust doth leade thy heart to yeeld:
When steed is stolne, who makes al fast,
May go on foot for al his haste:
In time shut gate,
For had I wist, doth come too late:
Fast bind, fast find;
Repentance alwaies commeth behind.

The Syrens tunes oft time beguiles,
So doth the teares of Crocodiles;
But who so learnes Ulysses lore,
May passe the seas, and win the shore.
Stop eares, stand fast,
Through Cupids trips, thou shalt him cast;
Flie baits, shun hookes,
Be thou not snarde with lovely lookes.

466

Where Venus hath the maisterie,
There love hath lost her libertie:
Where love doth win the victorie,
The fort is sackt with crueltie.
First look, then leap,
In suretie so your skinnes you keepe;
The snake doth sting,
That lurking lieth with hissing.

Where Cupids fort hath made a waie,
There grave advise doth beare no swaie;
Where love doth raigne, and rule the roste,
There reason is exilde the coast:
Like all, love none,
Except ye use discretion:
First try, then trust,
Be not deceived with sinful lust.

Marke Priams sonne, his fond devise,
When Venus did obtaine the prise;
For Pallas skil, and Junoes strength,
He chose that bred his bane, at length.
Choos wit, leave wil,
Let Helen be with Paris stil:
Amis goeth al
Wher fancie forceth fooles to fall.

Where was there found a happier wight
Than Troylus was, til love did light?
What was the end of Romeus?
Did he not die, like Piramus?
Who baths in blis,
Let him be mindful of Iphis:
Who seeks to plese,
May ridden be, like Hercules.

I lothe to tel the peevish brawles,
And fond delights, of Cupids thrawles;
Like Momish mates of Midas mood,
They gape to get that doth no good:
Now down, now up,
As tapsters use to tosse the cup:
One breedeth ioy,
Another breeds as great anoy.

467

Some love for wealth, and some for hue,
And none of both these loves are true:
For when the mil hath lost her sailes,
Then must the miller lose his vailes:
Of grasse commeth hay,
And flowers faire wil soon decay:
Of ripe commeth rotten;
In age al beautie is forgotten.

Some loveth too hie, and some too lowe,
And of them both great griefs do grow;
And some do love the common sort,
And common folke use common sport.
Looke not too hie,
Least that a chip fall in thine eie:
But hie or lowe,
Ye may be sure she is a shrow.

But, Sirs, I use to tell no tales;
Ech fish that swims doth not beare scales;
In everie hedge I find not thornes;
Nor everie beast doth carrie hornes:
I saie not so,
That everie woman causeth wo:
That were too broad;
Who loveth not venom, must shun the tode.

Who useth still the truth to tel,
May blamed be, though he saie wel:
Say crowe is white, and snowe is blacke,
Lay not the fault on woman's backe;
Thousands were good,
But few scapte drowning in Noes flood:
Most are wel bent;
I must say so, least I be shent.

FINIS.

468

19. A Proper Sonet,
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

intituled, ‘I smile to see how you devise.’

[_]

To anie pleasant Tune.

I smile to see how you devise
New masking nets my eies to bleare;
Your self you cannot so disguise,
But as you are, you must appeare.

Your privie winkes at boord I see,
And how you set your raving mind:
Your self you cannot hide from me,
Although I wincke, I am not blind.

The secret sighs, and fained cheare,
That oft doth paine thy carefull brest,
To me right plainly doth appeare;
I see in whom thy hart doth rest.

And though [thou] makest a fained vow,
That love no more thy heart should nip;
Yet think I know, as well as thou,
The fickle helm doth guide the ship.

The salamander in the fire,
By course of kinde, doth bathe his limmes:
The floting fish taketh his desire
In running streames, whereas he swimmes.

So thou in change doth take delight;
Ful wel I know thy slipperie kinde:
In vaine thou seemst to dim my sight,
Thy rowling eies bewraieth thy minde.

I see him smile, that doth possesse
Thy love, which once I honoured most:
If he be wise, he may well gesse,
Thy love, soon won, wil soon be lost.

And sith thou canst no man intice,
That he should stil love thee alone;
Thy beautie now hath lost her price,
I see thy savorie sent is gone.

469

Therefore, leave off thy wonted plaie;
But as thou art thou wilt appeare,
Unlesse thou canst devise a waie
To dark the sun, that shines so cleare.

And keep thy friend, that thou hast won;
In trueth to him thy love supplie;
Least he at length, as I have done,
Take off thy belles, and let thee flie.

20.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[O happ moste harde where truthe doth most beguyle]

O happ moste harde where truthe doth most beguyle
O churlishe chaunce where love gives caus to loth
O face moste fals wch frowneth by a smyle
O fayned faithe wch loves and hateth both
My saftye stayes where dainger ever bydes
My settled truste standes faste one waveringe doutt
No steddfaste staye is that wch ever slydes
Displeased contente still neither in nor oute[.]
To maske my mynde where moste yt woulde be seen
To hyde my hurtes where healinge handes should helpe
To saye a naye where soothe doth beste beseeme
Shewes but a foole one Mother Cowardes whelpe
Wherefor I dare saye as I saide before
And faine woulde doe yf donne I live no more

III. Four Songs

(TO REPLACE SOME MISSING FROM THE PLAYS)

21.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Sing wee and chaunt it]

Sing wee and chaunt it,
While loue doth graunt it.
Fa la la la.
Not long youth lasteth,
And old age hasteth,
Now is best leysure,
To take our pleasure.
Fa la la la.

470

All things inuite vs,
Now to delight vs.
Fa la la la.
Hence care be packing,
No mirth bee lacking,
Let spare no treasure,
To liue in pleasure.
Fa la la la.

22.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Sleepe, Deathes alye, obliuion of teares]

Sleepe, Deathes alye, obliuion of teares,
Silence of Passions, balme of angrie sore
Suspence of loues, Securitie of feares
Wraths Lenatiue, Hearts ease, stormes calmest shore,
Senses and Soules repriuall from all Combers
Benuming sense of ill with quiet slumbers

23.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Like to a Hermite poore in place obscure]

Like to a Hermite poore in place obscure,
I meane to spend my daies of endles doubt,
To waile such woes as time cannot recure,
Where none but Loue shall euer finde me out.

My foode shall be of care and sorow made,
My drink nought else but teares falne from mine eies,
And for my light in such obscured shade,
The flames shall serue, which from my hart arise.

A gowne of graie, my bodie shall attire,
My staffe of broken hope whereon Ile staie,
Of late repentance linckt with long desire,
The couch is fram'de whereon my limbes Ile lay,

And at my gate dispaire shall linger still,
To let in death when Loue and Fortune will.

471

24.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I saw my Lady weepe]

I saw my Lady weepe,
And sorrow proud to bee aduanced so,
In those faire eies, where all perfections keepe:
Hir face was full of woe,
But such a woe (beleeue me) as wins more hearts,
Then mirth can doe with hir intysing parts.

Sorow was there made faire,
And passion wise, teares a delightfull thing,
Silence beyond all speech a wisdome rare,
Shee made hir sighes to sing,
And all things with so sweet a sadnesse moue,
As made my heart at once both grieue and loue.

O fayrer then ought ells,
The world can shew, leaue of in time to grieue,
Inough, inough, your ioyfull lookes excells,
Teares kills the heart belieue,
O striue not to bee excellent in woe,
Which onely breeds your beauties ouerthrow.

IV. Later Love-Poems.

25.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Farewell false loue, the oracle of lyes]

Farewell false loue, the oracle of lyes,
A mortal foe, & enimie to rest:
An enuious boy, from whome all cares aryse,
A bastard vile, a beast with rage possest:
A way of error, a temple ful of treason,
In all effects contrarie vnto reason.

A poysoned serpent couered all with flowers,
Mother of sighes, and murtherer of repose,
A sea of sorows frō whēce are drawē such showers,
As moysture lend to euerie griefe that growes,
A school of guile, a net of deepe deceit,
A guilded hooke, that holds a poysoned bayte.

472

A fortress foyled, which reason did defend,
A Syren song, a feauer of the minde,
A maze wherein affection finds no ende,
A raging cloude that runnes before the winde,
A substance like the shadow of the Sunne,
A goale of griefe for which the wisest runne.

A quenchlesse fire, a nurse of trembling feare,
A path that leads to perill and mishap,
A true retreat of sorrow and dispayre,
An idle boy that sleepes in pleasures lap,
A deepe mistrust of that which certaine seemes,
A hope of that which reason doubtfull deemes.

Finis.

26.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When younglyngs first on Cupide fyxe their sight]

When younglyngs first on Cupide fyxe their sight,
And see him naked, blyndfold & a boy,
Though bow & shafts and fier-brand be his might,
Yet weene they he can worke them none annoy.

And therefore with his purpill wings they play,
For glorious semeth loue though light as fether,
And when they haue done they weene to skape away,
For blynd men, say they, shoote they know not whether.

But when by proofe they finde that he did see,
& that his wound did rather dym their sight,
They wonder more how such a lad as he,
Should be of such surpassing powre and might:

But Ants haue gals, so hath the Bee his styng,
Then sheeld me heauens from such a subtyle thing.

27.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When I was otherwise then now I am]

When I was otherwise then now I am,
I loued more but skilled not so much:
Fayre wordes and smyles could haue contented than,
My simple age & ignorance was such:
But at the length experience made me wonder,
That harts & tongues did lodge so farre asunder.

As watermen which on the Teames do row
Looke to the East, but West keepes on the way,

473

My Soueraigne sweet, her countenance setled so,
To feede my hope while she her snares might laye.
And when she sawe that I was in her danger,
Good God, how soone she proued then a ranger.

I could not choose but laugh although to late,
To see great craft diszifered in a toye,
I loue her still, but such conditions hate,
Which so prophanes my Paradice of ioy.
Loue whetts the witts, whose paine is but a pleasure,
A toy, by fitts, to play withall at leasure.

28. A Gentlewoman yt married a yonge Gent who after forsooke [hir,] wherevppon she tooke hir Needle in wch she was excelēt & worked vpō hir Sampler thus
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Come, giue me needle, stitch cloth, silke & chaire
yt I may sitt and sigh, and sow & singe
For perfect coollors to discribe ye aire
a subtile persinge changinge constant thinge
No false stitch will I make, my hart is true
plaine stitche my Sampler is for to cōplaine
How men haue tongues of hony, harts of rue.
true tongues & harts are one, men makes them twaine.
Giue me black silk yt sable suites my hart
& yet som white though white words do deceiue
No green at all for youth & I must part
Purple & blew, fast loue & faith to weaue.
Mayden no more sleepeless ile goe to bedd
Take all away, ye work works in my hedd.

29.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Feede still thy selfe, thou fondling with beliefe]

Feede still thy selfe, thou fondling with beliefe,
Go hunt thy hope, that neuer tooke effect,
Accuse the wrongs that oft hath wrought thy griefe,
And reckon sure where reason would suspect.

474

Dwell in the dreames of wish and vaine desire,
Pursue the faith that flies and seekes to new,
Run after hopes that mocke thee with retire,
And looke for loue where liking neuer grew.

Deuise conceits to ease thy carefull hart,
Trust vpon times and daies of grace behinde,
Presume the rights of promise and desart,
And measure loue by thy beleeuing minde.

Force thy affects that spite doth daily chace,
Winke at thy wrongs with wilfull ouersight,
See not the soyle and staine of thy disgrace,
Nor recke disdaine, to doate on thy delite.

And when thou seest the end of thy reward,
And these effects ensue of thine assault,
When rashnes rues, that reason should regard,
Yet still accuse thy fortune for the fault.

And crie, O Loue, O death, O vaine desire,
When thou complainst the heate, and feeds[t] the fire.

30.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Those eies which set my fancie on a fire]

Those eies which set my fancie on a fire,
Those crisped haires, which hold my hart in chains,
Those daintie hands, which conquer'd my desire,
That wit, which of my thoughts doth hold the rains.

Those eies for cleerenes doe the starrs surpas,
Those haires obscure the brightnes of the Sunne,
Those hands more white, than euer Iuorie was,
That wit euen to the skies hath glorie woon.

O eies that pearce our harts without remorse,
O haires of right that weares a roiall crowne,
O hands that conquer more than Cæsars force,
O wit that turns huge kingdoms vpside downe.

Then Loue be Judge, what hart can thee withstand:
Such eies, such haire, such wit, and such a hand.

475

31.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Those eies that holds the hand of euery hart]

Those eies that holds the hand of euery hart,
Those hands that holds the hart of euery eie,
That wit that goes beyond all natures art,
That sence, too deepe, for wisdome to descrie,
That eie, that hand, that wit, that heauenly sence,
All these doth show my Mistres Excellence.

Oh eies that perce into the purest hart,
Oh hands that hold, the highest harts in thrall,
Oh wit that weyes the deapth of all desart,
Oh sence that showes the secret sweete of all,
The heauen of heauens, with heuenly powrs preserue thee,
Loue but thy selfe, and giue me leaue to serue thee.

To serue, to liue, to looke vpon those eies,
To looke, to liue, to kisse that heauenlie hand,
To sound that wit, that doth amaze the wise,
To knowe that sence, no sence can vnderstand,
To vnderstande that all the world may know,
Such wit, such sence, eies, hands, there are no moe.

32.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[By wracke late driuen on shore, from Cupids Crare]

By wracke late driuen on shore, from Cupids Crare,
Whose sailes of error, sighes of hope and feare,
Conueied through seas of teares, and sands of care,
Till rocks of high disdaine, hir sides did teare,
I write a dirge, for dolefull doues to sing,
With selfe same quill, I pluckt from Cupids wing.

Farewell vnkinde, by whom I fare so ill,
Whose looks bewitcht my thoughts with false surmise,
Till forced reason did vnbinde my will,
And shewed my hart, the follie of mine eies,
And saide, attending where I should attaine,
Twixt wish and want, was but a pleasing paine.

Farewell vnkinde, my floode is at an ebbe
My troubled thoughts, are turnd to quiet wars,
My fancies hope hath spun and spent hir webbe,
My former wounds are closed vp with skars,
As ashes lie, long since consumde with fire,
So is my loue, so now is my desire.

476

Farewell vnkinde, my first and finall loue,
Whose coie contempts, it bootes not heere to name,
But gods are iust, and euery star aboue,
Doth threat reuenge, where faiths reward is blame,
And I may liue, though your despised thrall,
By fond mischoyce, to see your fortunes fall.

Farewell vnkinde, most cruell of your kinde,
By whom my worth, is drowned in disdaines,
As was my loue, so is your iudgement blinde,
My fortune ill, and such hath beene my gaines,
But this for all, I list no more to saie,
Farewell faire proude, not lifes, but loues decaie.

33. A Counterloue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Declare, O minde, from fond desires excluded,
That thou didst find erewhile, by Loue deluded.

An eie, the plot, whereon Loue sets his gin,
Beautie, the trap, wherein the heedles fall,
A smile, the traine, that drawes the simple in,
Sweete words, the wilie instrument of all,
Intreaties posts, faire promises are charmes,
Writing, the messenger, that wooes our harmes.

Mistresse, and seruant, titles of mischaunce:
Commaundments done, the act of slauerie,
Their coulors worne, a clownish cognisaunce,
And double dutie, pettie drudgerie,
And when she twines and dallies with thy locks,
Thy freedome then is brought into the stocks.

To touch hir hand, hir hand bindes thy desire,
To weare hir ring, hir ring is Nessus gift,
To feele hir brest, hir brest doth blowe the fire,
To see hir bare, her bare a baleful drift,
To baite thine eies thereon, is losse of sight,
To thinke of it, confounds thy senses quite.

Kisses the keies, to sweete consuming sin,
Closings, Cleopatras adders at thy brest,
Fained resistance then she will begin,
And yet vnsatiable in all the rest,
And when thou doost vnto the act proceede,
The bed doth grone, and tremble at the deede.

477

Beautie, a siluer dew that falls in May,
Loue is an Egshell, with that humor fild,
Desire, a winged boy, comming that way,
Delights and dallies with it in the field,
The firie Sun, drawes vp the shell on hie,
Beautie decaies, Loue dies, desire doth flie.

Vnharmd giue eare, that thing is hap'ly caught,
That cost some deere, if thou maist ha't for naught.

34. The Description of Iealousie.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

A seeing friend, yet enimie to rest,
A wrangling passion, yet a gladsom thought,
A bad companion, yet a welcom guest,
A knowledge wisht, yet found too soone vnsought,
From heauen supposde, yet sure condemn'd to hell,
Is Iealousie, and there forlorne doth dwell.

And thence doth send fond feare and false suspect,
To haunt our thoughts bewitched with mistrust,
Which breedes in vs the issue and effect,
Both of conceits and actions far vniust,
The griefe, the shame, the smart wherof doth proue,
That Iealousie's both death and hell to Loue.

For what but hell moues in the iealous hart,
Where restles feare works out all wanton ioyes,
Which doth both quench and kill the louing part,
And cloies the minde with worse than knowne annoyes,
Whose pressure far exceeds hells deepe extreemes,
Such life leads Loue entangled with misdeemes.

35. [Short is my rest, whose toile is ouerlong]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Short is my rest, whose toile is ouerlong,
My ioyes are darke, but cleere I see my woe,
My safetie small: great wracks I bide by wrong,
Whose time is swift, and yet my hap but sloe,
Each griefe and wound, in my poore hart appeeres,
That laugheth howres, and weepeth many yeeres.

Deedes of the day, are fables for the night,
Sighes of desire, are smoakes of thoughtfull teares,

478

My steps are false, although my paths be right,
Disgrace is bolde, and fauor full of feares,
Disquiet sleepe, keepes audit of my life,
Where rare content, doth make displeasure rife.

The dolefull bell, that is the voice of time,
Cals on my end, before my haps be seene,
Thus fals my hopes, whose harmes haue power to clime,
Not come to haue that long in wish hath beene,
I seeke your loue, and feare not others hate,
Be you with me, and I haue Cæsars state.

36.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Praisd be Dianas faire and harmles light]

Praisd be Dianas faire and harmles light,
Praisd be the dewes, wherwith she moists the ground;
Praisd be hir beames, the glorie of the night,
Praisd be hir powre, by which all powres abound.

Praisd be hir Nimphs, with whom she decks the woods,
Praisd be hir knights, in whom true honor liues,
Praisd be that force, by which she moues the floods,
Let that Diana shine, which all these giues.

In heauen Queene she is, among the spheares,
In ay[er] she Mistres like makes all things pure,
Eternitie in hir oft chaunge she beares,
She beautie is, by hir the faire endure.

Time weares hir not, she doth his chariot guide,
Mortalitie belowe hir orbe is plaste,
By hir the vertue of the starrs doune slide,
In hir is vertues perfect image cast:

A knowledge pure it is hir worth to kno,
With Circes let them dwell that thinke not so.

37.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[My thoughts are wingde with hop[e]s, my hop[e]s with loue]

My thoughts are wingde with hop[e]s, my hop[e]s with loue,
Moūt loue vnto the moone in cleerest night,

479

And say as she doth in the heauens mooue
In earth so wanes & waxeth my delight:
And whisper this but softly in her eares,
Hope oft doth hang the head, and trust shed teares.

And you my thoughts that some mistrust do cary,
If for mistrust my mistrisse do you blame,
Say though you alter, yet you do not varry,
As she doth change, and yet remaine the same:
Distrust doth enter harts, but not infect,
And loue is sweetest seasned with suspect.

If she for this, with cloudes do maske her eies,
And make the heauens darke with her disdaine,
With windie sighes disperse them in the skies,
Or with thy teares dissolue them into raine;
Thoughts, hopes, & loue returne to me no more,
Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before.

38. A Nimphs disdaine of Loue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Hey downe a downe did Dian sing,
amongst her Virgins sitting:
Then loue there is no vainer thing,
for Maydens most vnfitting,
And so think I, with a downe downe derrie.

When women knew no woe,
but liu'd them-selues to please:
Mens fayning guiles they did not know,
the ground of their disease.
Vnborne was false suspect,
no thought of iealousie:
From wanton toyes and fond affect,
The Virgins life was free.
Hey downe a downe did Dian sing &c.

480

At length men vsed charmes,
to which what Maides gaue eare:
Embracing gladly endlesse harmes,
anone enthralled were.
Thus women welcom'd woe,
disguis'd in name of loue:
A iealous hell, a painted show,
so shall they finde that proue.

Hey downe a downe did Dian sing,
amongst her Virgins sitting:
Then loue there is no vainer thing,
for Maydens most vnfitting.
And so thinke I, with a downe downe derrie.

Finis.

39. The Nimphs reply to the Sheepheard.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

If all the world and loue were young,
And truth in euery Sheepheards tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me moue,
To liue with thee, and be thy loue.

Time driues the flocks from field to fold,
When Riuers rage, and Rocks grow cold,
And Philomell becommeth dombe,
The rest complaines of cares to come.

The flowers doe fade & wanton fieldes,
To wayward winter reckoning yeeldes,
A honny tongue, a hart of gall,
Is fancies spring, but sorrowes fall.

Thy gownes, thy shooes, thy beds of Roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy poesies,
Soone breake, soone wither, soone forgotten:
In follie ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and Iuie buddes,
Thy Corall claspes and Amber studdes,
All these in mee no meanes can moue,
To come to thee, and be thy loue.

481

But could youth last, and loue still breede,
Had ioyes no date, nor age no neede,
Then these delights my minde might moue,
To liue with thee, and be thy loue.

Finis.

40. Another of the same nature, made since.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Come liue with mee, and be my deere,
And we will reuell all the yeere,
In plaines and groaues, on hills and dales:
Where fragrant ayre breedes sweetest gales.

There shall you haue the beauteous Pine,
The Cedar, and the spreading Vine,
And all the woods to be a Skreene:
Least Phœbus kisse my Sommers Queene.

The seate for your disport shall be
Ouer some Riuer in a tree,
Where siluer sands, and pebbles sing,
Eternall ditties with the spring.

There shall you see the Nimphs at play,
And how the Satires spend the day,
The fishes gliding on the sands:
Offering their bellies to your hands.

The birds with heauenly tuned throates,
Possesse woods Ecchoes with sweet noates,
Which to your sences will impart,
A musique to enflame the hart.

Vpon the bare and leafe-lesse Oake,
The Ring-Doues wooings will prouoke
A colder blood then you possesse,
To play with me and doo no lesse.

In bowers of Laurell trimly dight,
We will out-weare the silent night,
While Flora busie is to spread:
Her richest treasure on our bed.

482

Ten thousand Glow-wormes shall attend,
And all their sparkling lights shall spend,
All to adorne and beautifie:
Your lodging with most maiestie.

Then in mine armes will I enclose
Lillies faire mixture with the Rose,
Whose nice perfections in loues play:
Shall tune me to the highest key.

Thus as we passe the welcome night,
In sportfull pleasures and delight,
The nimble Fairies on the grounds,
Shall daunce and sing mellodious sounds.

If these may serue for to entice,
Your presence to Loues Paradice,
Then come with me, and be my Deare:
And we will straite begin the yeare.

Finis.

41. Naturall comparisons with perfect loue
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

The lowest Trees haue tops, the Ante her gall,
The flie her splene, the little sparkes their heate:
The slender haires cast shadowes, though but small,
And Bees haue stings, although they be not great:
Seas haue their sourse, & so haue shallow springs,
And loue is loue, in Beggars, as in Kings.

Where riuers smoothest run, deepe are the foords,
The Diall stirres, yet none perceiues it mooue:
The firmest faith is in the fewest wordes,
The Turtles cannot sing, and yet they loue:
True Harts haue eyes, & eares, no tongs to speake,
They heare, & see, and sigh, and then they breake.

483

41. An Answere to the first Staffe, that Loue is vnlike in Beggers and in Kings.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Compare the Bramble with the Cedar tree,
The Pismyres anger with the Lyons rage:
What is the Buzzing flie where Eagles bee?
A drop the sparke, no seas can Aetna swage.
Small is the heat in Beggers brests that springs,
But flaming fire consumes the hearts of Kings.

Who shrouds himself where slender hairs cast shade:
But mighty Oakes may scorne the Summer Sun:
Smal cure wil serue, wher Bees the woūd haue made
But Dragons poyson through each part doth run:
Light is the loue that Beggers bosome stings,
Deepe is the wound that Cupid makes in Kings.

Smal channels serue, where shallow springs do slide,
And little helpe will turne or stay their course:
The highest banks scarce holde the swelling tide,
Which ouer-throwes all stops with raging force:
The baser sort scarce wett them in the springs,
Which ouer-whelme the heads of mighty kings.

What though in both the hart bee set of Loue?
The self same ground both corne and cockle breeds
Fast by the Bryer, the Pine-tree mounts aboue,
One kinde of grasse, the Iade and Iennet feedes:
So from the hart, by secret virtue springs,
Vnlike desire in Beggers and in Kings.

484

42.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Praise blindnesse eies, for seeing is deceit]

Praise blindnesse eies, for seeing is deceit,
Bee dumbe vaine tongue, words are but flattering windes,
Breake hart & bleed for ther is no receit,
To purge inconstancy from most mens mindes.
And so I wackt amazd and could not moue,
I know my dreame was true, and yet I loue.

And if thine eares false Haralds to thy hart,
Conuey into thy head hopes to obtaine,
Then tell thy hearing thou art deafe by art,
Now loue is art that wonted to be plaine,
Now none is bald except they see his braines,
Affection is not knowne till one be dead,
Reward for loue are labours for his paines,
Loues quiuer made of gold his shafts of leade.
And so I wackt amazd and could not moue,
I know my dreame was true, and yet I loue.

43.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[If fluds of teares could cleanse my follies past]

If fluds of teares could cleanse my follies past,
And smoakes of sighes might sacrifice for sinne,
If groning cries might salue my fault at last,
Or endles mone, for error pardon win,
Then would I cry, weepe, sigh, and euer mone,
Mine errors, fault, sins, follies past and gone.

I see my hopes must wither in their bud,
I see my fauours are no lasting flowers,
I see that woords will breede no better good,
Then losse of time and lightening but at houres,
Thus when I see then thus I say therefore,
That fauours hopes and words, can blinde no more.

485

44.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Farewell too faire, too chaste but too too cruell]

Farewell too faire, too chaste but too too cruell,
Discretion neuer quenched fire with swords:
Why hast thou made my heart thine angers fuell,
And now would kill my passions with thy words.
This is prowd beauties true anatamy,
If that secure seuere in secresie,
farewell, farewell.

Farewell too deare, and too too much desired,
Vnlesse compassion dwelt more neere thy heart:
Loue by neglect (though constant) oft is tired,
And forc't from blisse vnwillingly to part.
This is prowd beauties true anatamy
If that secure seuere in secresie,
farewell, farewell.

45.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[A Womans looks]

A Womans looks
Are barbed hooks,
That catch by art
The strongest hart
When yet they spend no breath,
But let them speake
& sighing break,
Forth into teares,
Their words are speares
Yt wound our souls to death.

The rarest wit
Is made forget,
And like a child
Is oft beguild,
With loues sweete seeming baite:
Loue with his rod
So like a God,
Commands the mind,
We cannot find
Faire shewes hide fowle deceit.

Time that all thinges
In order bringes,

486

Hath taught me now
To be more slow,
In giuing faith to speech:
Since womens wordes
No truth affordes,
And when they kisse
They thinke by this,
Vs men to ouer-reach.

46.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Fond wanton youths make loue a God]

Fond wanton youths make loue a God,
Which after proueth ages rod,
Their youth, their time, their wit, their arte,
They spend in seeking of their smarte
And which of follies is the chiefe,
They wooe their woe, they wedde their griefe.

All finde it so who wedded are,
Loues sweetes they find enfold sowre care:
His pleasures pleasingst in the eie,
Which tasted once, with lothing die:
They find of follies tis the chiefe,
Their woe to wooe to wedde their griefe.

If for their owne content they choose,
Forthwith their kindreds loue they loose:
And if their kindred they content,
For euer after they repent.
O tis of all our follies chiefe,
Our woe to wooe to wedde our griefe.

In bed what strifes are bred by day,
Our puling wiues doe open lay:
None friendes none foes we must esteeme,
But whome they so vouchsafe to deeme:
O tis of all our follies chiefe,
Our woe to wooe to wedde our griefe.

Their smiles we want if ought they want,
And either we their wils must grant,
Or die they will or are with child,
Their longings must not be beguild:
O tis of all our follies chiefe,
Our woe to woo to wedde our griefe.

487

Foule wiues are iealous, faire wiues false,
Mariage to either bindes vs thrall:
Wherefore being bound we must obey,
And forced be perforce to say:
Of all our blisse it is the chiefe,
Our woe to wooe to wed our griefe.

47.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Once did I loue and yet I liue]

Once did I loue and yet I liue,
Though loue & truth be now forgotten.
Then did I ioy nowe doe I grieue,
That holy vows must needs be broken.

Hers be the blame that caus'd it so,
Mine be the griefe though it be little,
Shee shall haue shame I cause to know:
What tis to loue a dame so fickle.

Loue her that list I am content,
For that Camelion like shee changeth,
Yeelding such mistes as may preuent:
My sight to view her when she rangeth.

Let him not vaunt that gaines my losse,
For when that he and time hath prou'd her,
Shee may him bring to weeping crosse:
I say no more because I lou'd her.

48.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Where lingring feare doth once posses the hart]

Where lingring feare doth once posses the hart,
There is the toong
Forst to prolong,
& smother vp his suite, while that his smart,
Like fire supprest, flames more in euery part.

Who dares not speake deserues not his desire,
The Boldest face,
Findeth most grace:
Though women loue that men should thē admire,
They slily laugh at him dares come no higher.

488

Some thinke a glaunce expressed by a sigh,
Winning the field,
Maketh them yeeld:
But while these glauncing fooles do rowle the eie,
They beate the bush, away the bird doth flie.

A gentle hart in vertuous breast doth stay,
Pitty doth dwell,
In beauties cell:
A womans hart doth not thogh tong say nay
Repentance taught me this the other day.

Which had I wist I presently had got,
The pleasing fruite,
Of my long suite:
But time hath now beguild me of this lot,
For that by his foretop I tooke him not.

49.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Hero care not though they prie]

Hero care not though they prie,
I will loue thee till I die,
Ielousie is but a smart,
That tormentes a ielous hart:
Crowes are blacke that were white,
For betraying loues delight.

They that loue to finde a fault,
May repent what they haue sought,
What the fond eie hath not view'd,
Neuer wretched hart hath rew'd:
Vulcan then, prou'd a scorne,
When he saw he wore a horne.

Doth it then by might behoue,
To shut vp the gates of loue,
Women are not kept by force,
But by natures owne remorse.
If they list, they will stray,
Who can hold that will away.

Ioue in golden shower obtain'd,
His loue in a towre restrain'd,
So perhaps if I could doe,
I might hold my sweete loue to:
Gold keepe out at the doore,
I haue loue that conquers more.

489

Wherefore did they not suspect,
When it was to some effect,
Euery little glimmering sparke,
Is perceiued in the darke:
This is right, howlets kinde,
See by night, by day be blinde.

50.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When loue on time and measure makes his ground]

When loue on time and measure makes his ground,
Time that must end though loue can neuer die,
Tis loue betwixt a shadow and a sound,
A loue not in the hart but in the eie,
A loue that ebbes and flowes now vp now downe,
A mornings fauor and an euenings frowne.

Sweete lookes shew loue, yet they are but as beames,
Faire wordes seeme true, yet they are but as wind,
Eies shed their teares yet are but outward streames:
Sighes paint a sadnes in the falsest minde.
Lookes, wordes, teares, sighes, shew loue when loue they leaue,
False harts can weepe, sigh, sweare, and yet deceiue.

51.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Women, what are they, changing weather-cocks]

Women, what are they, changing weather-cocks,
That smallest puffes of lust haue power to turne,
Women what are they, vertues stumbling blockes,
Whereat weake fooles doe fall, the wiser spurne,
Wee men, what are wee, fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.

Women what are they? trees whose outward rinde,
Makes shew for faire when inward hart is hollow:
Women what are they? beasts of Hiænaes kinde,
That speak those fairst, whō most they meane to swallow:
We men what are wee? fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.

Women what are they? rocks vpon the coast,
Where on we suffer shipwracke at our landing:

490

Women what are they? patient creatures most,
That rather yeld thē striue gainst ought withstāding
We men what are wee? fooles and idle boies,
To spend our time in sporting with such toies.

52.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[If fathers knew but how to leaue]

If fathers knew but how to leaue
Their children wit as they do wealth,
& could constraine them to receiue
That physicke which brings perfect health,
Ye world would not admiring stand,
A womans face and womans hand.

Women confesse they must obey,
We men will needes be seruants still:
We kisse their hands and what they say,
We must commend bee 't neuer so ill.
Thus we like fooles admiring stand,
Her pretty foote and pretty hand.

We blame their pride which we increase,
By making mountaines of a mouse:
We praise because we know we please:
Poore women are too credulous
To thinke that we admiring stand,
Or foote, or face, or foolish hand.

53.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The fountaines smoake, and yet no flames they shewe]

The fountaines smoake, and yet no flames they shewe,
Starres shine all night, though undesern'd by day,
And trees doe spring, yet are not seene to growe,
And shadowes moove, although they seeme to stay,
In Winter's woe is buried Summer's blisse,
And Love loves most, when Love most secret is.

The stillest streames descries the greatest deepe,
The clearest skie is subject to a shower,
Conceit's most sweete, whenas it seemes to sleepe,
And fairest dayes doe in the morning lower;
The silent groves sweete nimphes they cannot misse,
For Love loves most, where Love most secret is.

491

The rarest jewels hidden vertue yeeld,
The sweete of traffique is a secret gaine,
The yeere once old doth shew a barren field,
And plants seeme dead, and yet they spring againe;
Cupid is blind, the reason why is this:
Love loveth most, where Love most secret is.

V. Later Autobiographical: 1595–1600?

54.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Where wardes are weake, and foes encountering strong]

Where wardes are weake, and foes encountering strong:
Wher mightier doe assault, then do defend:
The feebler part puts vp enforced wrong,
And silent sees, that speach could not amend.
Yet higher powers must thinke though they repine,
When Sunne is set: the litle starres will shine.

While Pike doth range, the silly Tench doth flye,
And crouch in priuie creekes, with smaler fish:
Yet Pikes are caught when litle fish goe bye:
These, fleete a flote; while those, doe fill the dish.
There is a tyme euen for the wormes to creepe:
And sucke the dew while all their foes doe sleepe.

The Marlyne cannot euer sore on high,
Nor greedie Grey-hound still pursue the chase:
The tender Larke will fynde a tyme to flie,
And fearfull Hare to runne a quiet race.
He that high growth on Ceders did bestow:
Gaue also lowly Mushrumpts leaue to grow.

Wee trample grasse, and prize the flowers of May:
Yet grasse is greene, when flowers do fade away.

492

55.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Al ye whō loue or fortune hath betraide]

Al ye whō loue or fortune hath betraide,
All ye that dreame of blisse but liue in greif,
Al ye whose hopes are euermore delaid,
Al ye whose sighes or sicknes wants releife:
Lend eares and teares to me most haples man,
That sings my sorrowes like the dying Swanne.

Care that consumes the heart with inward paine,
Paine that presents sad care in outward vew,
Both tyrant like enforce me to complaine,
But still in vaine, for none my plaints will rue,
Teares, sighes, and ceaseles cries alone I spend,
My woe wants comfort, and my sorrow end.

56.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Come heauy sleepe, ye Image of true death]

Come heauy sleepe, ye Image of true death:
And close vp these my weary weeping eyes,
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath,
And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln crys:
Com & posses' my tired thoghts, worne soule,
That liuing dies, till thou on me be stoule.

Come shadow of my end: and shape of rest,
Alied to death, child to this black fast night,
Come thou and charme these rebels in my brest,
Whose waking fancies doth my mind affright.
O come sweet sleepe, come or I die for euer,
Come ere my last sleepe coms, or [else] come neuer.

57. Concerninge his suit & attendaūce at ye Courte.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Moste miserable man, whom̄e wretched fate
hath brought to Court, to sue for Had-I-wist:
that few haue found, & many one haue mist.
Full little knowest thou, that hast not tride
what Hell it is, in suinge longe to bide.
To loose good dayes, that mighte be better spent,
to waste longe nightes in pensiue discontent,

493

To speed to day, & be put back to morrowe,
Now fedd wth hope, now Crost wth wailfull sorrow
To haue thy Princes grace yet want hir Peeres,
to haue thy askinge, yet waite many yeres.
To frett thy soule with Crosses & wth cares,
to eat thy hart wth Comfortless dispaires:
To fawne, to crouche, to waite, to bide, to run:
To spend, to giue, to want, to be vndon.
Vnhappy wighte, borne to disastrous end:
That doth his life, in so longe tendance spend.

Pereunt nil pariunt Anni, verte

58.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The thundringe God whose all-embracinge powre]

The thundringe God whose all-embracinge powre
Circles ye modell of this spatious rounde
When first he fram'd old Adams earthly bowre
ordain'd all thinges th' Emperiall vaile doth bound
Should lend their aide to others mutuallie
but all combinde serue man continuallie.

So heau'n wth heate, the dankish aire wth dew
this solid element of Earth reuiue
with gentle warm'th & robes of verdant hew
on wch ye horned Kyne & sheepe do liue
And as those bodies ministred their good
So they againe do turne to humane foode.

Man seru'd of all, seru'd none of all but God
but mighte his pleasures take wthout controule
Saue onely what Jehouah had forbod
the carefull Soueraigne of his simple soule.
This was ye age wise Poets term'd of gold
for liberty in dearest prize they holde.

But theis succeedinge Seasons arm'd in steele,
Tramples hir downe & in tryumphant sorte
Not fearinge like contempts of fate to feele
Leades hir as Captiue, mate to poorest sorte
Yet Patience promis'd Liberty distrest
should reape for paine, a gayne, for vnrest, rest.

Wch Prophesy of hirs indeede mighte serue
for a perswation that my seruice don̄e

494

would at ye length enfranchisemt deserue
wth aunswr to mine expectation.
But when I thinke twas Patience yt spoke
the golden vessell of my hope is broke.

For she's a Sainte & scorninge vniust earth
is fledd to heau'n. All vertues are ingros't
In Gods owne hand, tis yt wch breedes ye dearth
of due rewardes, & makes my labour lost
Or at ye moste repaies my louinge minde
wth large delayes, vaine wordes & som̄e vnkinde.

Since then ye first worlde can not be recald
nor this our rusty Iron age refinde
Since Patience is in starry heau'n instald
Let euery Seruitour beare this in minde
That howsoeu'r he serue, obserue, deserue
if nought but Aire he purchase he may sterue.

Sarrire quam seruire satius.

59. [THE BEE.]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

It was a tyme when silly Bees could speake
and in that time I was a silly Bee
who suckt on time, vntill the hart gan breake
yet never founde that tyme would fauour me
Of all the swarme I onely could not thriue
yet brought I wax & honey to ye hiue

Then thus I busd when time no sap would giue
Why is this blessed tyme to me so dry
Sith in this tyme, ye lazie Drone doth liue
ye waspe, ye worme, ye Gnat, ye butterfly
Mated wth greif I kneeled on my knees
And thus complain'd vnto ye King o[f] Bees

My leige god grant thy time may haue no end
and yet vouchsafe to heare my plaint of tyme

495

Synce every fruitlesse fly hath found a freind
& I cast downe while Attomies doe clyme
The king replide but thus, peace peevish Bee
Thou art borne to serve the time, ye time not thee

The time not thee, this word clipt short my wings
And made me worme-like creepe yt once did fly
Awfull regard disputeth not wth kings
Receauethe a Repulse not asking why?
Then from the tyme, I for a tyme wthdrew
To feed on Henbane, Hemlock, Nettles, Rue,

But from those leaues no dram of sweete I drayne
their head strong furry did my head bewitch
The iuice disperst black bloud in every veine
for hony gall, for wax I gathered pitch
My Combe a Rift, my hiue a leafe must bee
so chang'd; that Bees scarce took me for a Bee

I work on weedes when Moone is in ye waine
whilst all ye swarme in sunnshine tast ye rose
onn black Roote ferne I sitt & sucke my baine
whilst on ye Eglentine the rest repose
haueing too much they still repine for more
& cloyd wth fullnes surfeit on yeir store

Swolne fatt wth feasts full merrily they passe
In sweetned Clusters falling from ye tree
where finding me to nibble on ye grasse

496

some scorne, some muse, & some doe pitty me
And some envy & whisper to the king
Some must be still & some must haue no sting

Are Bees waxt waspes, or spiders to infect
Doe hony bowells make ye sperit gall
Is this ye iuce of flowers to stir suspect
Ist not enought to tread on them that fall
what sting hath patience but a sighing grief
That sting[s] nought but itselfe wthout Relief

True patience ye prouender of fooles
sad patience that waiteth at the doore
Patience yt learnes thus to conclude in schools
Patience I am therefore I must be poore
Great king of Bees yt rightest euery wrong
Listen to patience in her dying song

I cannot feed on fennell like some flyes
nor fly to euery flower to gather gaine
myne appetite waites on my prince his eyes
Contented with contempt, & pleased wth payne
and yet expecting of an happy houre
when he shall say this Bee shall suck a flower

Of all the greifes yt must my patience grate
there's one that fretteth in ye high'st degree
To see some Catterpillers bred vp of late
cropping the fruit yt should sustaine ye Bee
yet smiled I, for yt the wisest knowes
that mothes doe frett ye Clothe Canker ye Rose

497

Once did I see by flying in the feild
fowle beasts to browse vpon ye Lilly fayre
Virtue & beauty could noe succour yeild
All's prouender for Asses, but the ayre
the partiall world of this takes litle heed
to giue them flowers yt should on thistles feed

This onely I must draine Ægiptian flowers
haueing noe sauor, bitter sap they haue
& seeke out Rotten Tombes & dead mens bowers
and bite on nightshade growing by the graue
If this I cannot haue, as hapless Bee
witching Tobacco I will fly to thee

what thoughe thou dy mens lungs in deepest black
A mourning habitt suites a sable hart
what if thy fumes sound memory doe crack
fforgettfullnes is fittest for my smart
ô vertuous fume let it be graued in oke
yt wordes, hopes, witts & all ye worlds but smoke

ffiue yeares twise told wth promises prfume
my hope stuft head was cast into a slumber
Sweete dreames of gold, on dreames I then prsume
& mongst ye Bees thoughe I were in ye number
waking I founde, hiues hopes had made me vaine
Twas not Tobacco stupifyed ye braine

Ingenium, studium, nummos, spem, tempus, amicos Cum male perdiderim: perdere verba leue est.

498

60.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[In Thesaly, ther Asses fine are kept]

In Thesaly, ther Asses fine are kept,
fayre, smoth, plump, fat and full:
The mangers they are fild, ye stables clenly swept
And yet their pace is very slow and dull.
So sotes oft tymes haue vnto honour crept,
when wiser men haue hadd a coulder pull,
If Asses haue such luck what shall I say?
Let Scollers burne their bookes & goe to play.

finis.

61.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[As oft we see before a sudden showre]

As oft we see before a sudden showre,
The sunne shines hottest & hath greatest powre:
Euen so whom fortune meaneth to deride,
She liftes a loft, from whence he soone may slide.

62.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Princes be fortunes children, & with them]

Princes be fortunes children, & with them
she deales as mothers vse their babes to still:
Vnto her darlings giues a diadem,
A pretie toy their humor to fulfill.
And when a little they haue had their will,
Looke what she gaue she taketh at her pleasure:
Vsinge the rod, when they are out of measure.

63.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Ouer theis brookes, trustinge to ease myne eyes]

Ouer theis brookes, trustinge to ease myne eyes,
Mine eyes euen great, in laboure with their teares:
I layde my face, wherin (alas) ther lies,
Clusters of clowdes, wch no Sunne euer cleeres.
In watrie glasse, my watrie eyes I see:
Sorrowes ill easd, wher sorrowes paynted be.

My thoughtes imprisned in my secret woes,
With flamie breastes doe issue oft in sownde:
The sownde to this strange ayre no sooner goes,
But that it doth with Ecchôs force rebownde.
And makes me heare, ye playntes I would refrayne:
Thus outward helpes, my inward grifes mayntayne.

Now in this sand, I would discharge my mynde,
And cast from me, part of my burd'nous cares:

499

But in the sand, my Tales foretold I fynde,
And see therin, how well ye writer fares.
With streame, ayre, sand, myne eyes & ears conspire:
What hope to quench, wher ech thinge blowes ye fire.

64.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Why ------]

Why ------
When life is my true happinesse disease?
My soule, my soule, thy saftie makes me flie
The fault is meanes, that might my payne appease. [OMITTED]
But in my hart her seuerall tormentes dwell.

Ah worthlesse witt to traine mee to this woe,
Deceiptfull arts that nourish discontent:
Ill thriue the follie that bewitcht me so,
Vaine though[t]s adieu for now I will repent.
And yet my wantes perswade me to proceed,
Since none takes pittie one a Scholers need.

forgiue me God althought I curse my birth,
And ban the ayre wherin I breath a wreatch:
Since miserie hath daunted all my mirth,
And I am quite vndon through promis[e breach]
Oh frendes, no frendes that then vn[kind]ly frowne,
When changing fortune casts vs headlong downe.

Without redresse complains my carelesse Verse,
And Mydas eares relent not at my moane
In some farr land will I my griefe rehearse,
Mongst them that wilbee mooued when I groane,
Ingland adieu the soyle that brought mee forth
Adieu vnkinde where skill is no[t]hing worth.

65.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Some mē will saye there is a kynde of muse]

Some mē will saye there is a kynde of muse
That healps the mynde of eache man to indyte
And some will saye (that oft these Muses vse)
There are but Nyne that euer vsed to wryte
Now of these nyne if I haue hytt on one
I muse what Muse 'tis I haue hytt vpon.

500

Some poetes wryte there is a heauenly hyll
Wher Pallas keeps: and it Pernassus hyghte
There Muses sit for-sothe, and cut the quyll
That beinge framde doth hidden fancyes wryte
But all these dames diuyne conceyts do synge
And all theyr penns be of a phœnix winge.

Beleeue me now I neuer sawe the place
Vnless in sleepe I drem'de of suche a thynge
I neauer vewed fayre Pallas in the face
Nor neauer yet could heare the Muses synge
Wherby to frame a fancye in her kynde
Oh no! my muse is of an other mynde.

From Hellicon? no no from Hell she came
To wryte of woes and myseryes[:] she hyghte
Not Pallas but Alass hir Ladyes name
Who neuer calles for dittyes of delyghte.
Her pen̄ is Payne; and all her matter moane
And pantynge harts she paynts her mynd vpon.

A harte not Harpe is all her instrumēt
Whose weakned strynges all out of tune she strayns
And than she strikes a dumpe of discontente
Tyll euery strynge be pluckt in two with paynes
Than in a rage she clapps it vpp in Case:
That you maye see her instruments disgrace.

Her musick is in sum̄ but sorrowes songe
Wher discorde yealds a sound of small delyghte
The dittye is: o lyfe that lastes so longe
To see desyre thus crossed wth despyte
No faythe on earth: alas I know no frende!
So with a syghe she makes a solem̄ ende.

Vnpleasant is the harmony godd knowes
When out of tune is allmost euery strynge
The sownde vnsweet, yt all of sorrow growes
And sadd the muse, that so is fourced to synge
Yet some do synge that else for woe would crye
So dothe mye Muse: and so, I sweare, do I.

Finis.

501

66.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Lie downe poore heart and die a while for griefe]

Lie downe poore heart and die a while for griefe,
Thinke not this world will euer do thee good,
Fortune forewarnes ȳ looke to thy reliefe,
And sorrow sucks vpon thy liuing bloud,
Then this is all can helpe thee of this hell,
Lie downe and die, and then thou shalt doe well.

Day giues his light but to thy labours toyle,
And night her rest but to thy weary bones,
Thy fairest fortune followes with a foyle:
And laughing endes but with thine after grones.
And this is all can helpe thee of thy hell,
Lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well.

Patience doth pine and pitty ease no paine,
Time weares the thoughts but nothing helps ye mind,
Dead and aliue aliue and dead againe:
These are the fits that thou art like to finde.
And this is all can helpe thee of thy hell,
Lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well.

67.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Life is a Poets fable]

Life is a Poets fable,
& al her daies are lies
Stolne from deaths reckoning table,
For I die as I speake,
Death times the notes that I doe breake.

Childhood doth die in youth,
And youth in old age dies,
I thought I liu'd in truth:
But I die, now I see,
Each age of death makes one degree.

Farewell the doting score
Of worlds arithmeticke,
Life, Ile trust thee no more,
Till I die, for thy sake,
Ile go by deaths new almanacke.

This instant of my song,
A thousand men lie sicke,
A thousand knels are rong:

502

And I die as I sing,
They are but dead and I dying.

Death is but lifes decay,
Life time, time wastes away,
Then reason bids me say,
That I die, though my breath
Prolongs this space of lingring death.

VI Epigrams.

70. Luna.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

The moone beeing clouded presently is mist,
But litle stars may hide them when they list.
Gnattes are unnoted whereso ere they flie
But Eagles guarded are with every eye.

71. In fæminæ deformitates.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Though men can cover crime wth bold sterne lookes,
Poore womens faces are their owne faults bookes.

72. In Priamum.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Had doting Priam checkt his sonnes desire,
Troy had beene bright with fame, and not with fire.

73. Lucretiæ querela ad Colatinum.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

In thy weake hiue a wandering waspe hath crept,
And suckt the honey, wch thy chast bee kept.

University of Virginia Library

POEMS

(DOUBTFUL)

I. Early Autobiographical: 1575–1580?

1.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When I behoulde the trees in the earthes fayre lyuerye clothed]

2.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[No place commendes the man vnworthie praise.]

3.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[How can he rule well in a common wealth]

4.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[What liquor first the earthen pot doth take]

5.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[O loath that Loue whose fynall ayme is Lust]

6.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The brainsicke race that wanton youth ensues]

7.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I feare not death, feare is more paine]

8.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I will not soare aloft the skye]

9.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Councell wch afterward is soughte]

10.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Soare I will not, in flighte the grounde ile see]

11.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[If all the Earthe were paper white]

12.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[The lofty trees whose braūches make sweete shades]

13. A Dittie, wherein is contained divers good and necessary documents, which beeing embraced and followed earnestly, may cause a man to shunne manie evilles and mischaunces, that may otherwise fall upon him, ere he can beware.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

14. A Dittie, wherein the brevitie of man's life is described, how soone his pompe vanisheth away, and he brought to his latest home.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

II. Early Love-Poems: BEFORE 1580?

16.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Who loues and would his suite should proue]

17. Of lingeringe Loue.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

1

2

3

4

5

6

18. A Warning for Wooers,[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

that they be not over hastie, nor deceived with womens beautie.

19. A Proper Sonet,[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

intituled, ‘I smile to see how you devise.’

20.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[O happ moste harde where truthe doth most beguyle]

III. Four Songs

(TO REPLACE SOME MISSING FROM THE PLAYS)

21.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Sing wee and chaunt it]

22.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Sleepe, Deathes alye, obliuion of teares]

23.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Like to a Hermite poore in place obscure]

24.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[I saw my Lady weepe]

IV. Later Love-Poems.

25.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Farewell false loue, the oracle of lyes]

26.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When younglyngs first on Cupide fyxe their sight]

27.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[When I was otherwise then now I am]

28. A Gentlewoman yt married a yonge Gent who after forsooke [hir,] wherevppon she tooke hir Needle in wch she was excelēt & worked vpō hir Sampler thus[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

29.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Feede still thy selfe, thou fondling with beliefe]

30.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Those eies which set my fancie on a fire]

31.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Those eies that holds the hand of euery hart]

32.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[By wracke late driuen on shore, from Cupids Crare]

33. A Counterloue.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

34. The Description of Iealousie.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

35.

[Short is my rest, whose toile is ouerlong][_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

36.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Praisd be Dianas faire and harmles light]

37.[_] The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[My thoughts are wingde with hop[e]s, my hop[e]s with loue]

1.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

2.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

3.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

4.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

5.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

6.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

7.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

8.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

9.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

10.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

11.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

12.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

13. A Dittie, wherein is contained divers good and necessary documents, which beeing embraced and followed earnestly, may cause a man to shunne manie evilles and mischaunces, that may otherwise fall upon him, ere he can beware.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

14. A Dittie, wherein the brevitie of man's life is described, how soone his pompe vanisheth away, and he brought to his latest home.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

16.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

17. Of lingeringe Loue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

18. A Warning for Wooers,
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

19. A Proper Sonet,
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

20.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

21.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

22.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

23.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

24.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

25.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

26.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

27.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

28. A Gentlewoman yt married a yonge Gent who after forsooke [hir,] wherevppon she tooke hir Needle in wch she was excelēt & worked vpō hir Sampler thus
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

29.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

30.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

31.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

32.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

33. A Counterloue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

34. The Description of Iealousie.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[Short is my rest, whose toile is ouerlong]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

36.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

37.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

38. A Nimphs disdaine of Loue.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

39. The Nimphs reply to the Sheepheard.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

40. Another of the same nature, made since.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

41. Naturall comparisons with perfect loue
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

41. An Answere to the first Staffe, that Loue is vnlike in Beggers and in Kings.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

42.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

43.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

44.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

45.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

46.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

47.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

48.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

49.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

50.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

51.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

52.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

53.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

54.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

55.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

56.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

57. Concerninge his suit & attendaūce at ye Courte.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

58.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

59. [THE BEE.]
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

60.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

61.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

62.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

63.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

64.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

65.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

66.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

67.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

70. Luna.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

71. In fæminæ deformitates.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

72. In Priamum.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

73. Lucretiæ querela ad Colatinum.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.