A poore Knight his Pallace of priuate pleasures Gallantly garnished, with goodly Galleries of strang inuentio[n]s and prudently polished, with sundry pleasant Posies, & other fine fancies of dainty deuices, and rare delightes. Written by a student in Ca[m]bridge. And published by I. C. Gent |
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A description of Cupid.
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 | A poore Knight his Pallace of priuate pleasures |  |
A description of Cupid.
God Morpheus was more swift thē those, which with Dame Venus came(Or els by right he should not seeme for to inioy his name.)
Wherfore by his assent wee past, Dame Venus and her trayne,
With speedy pace vnto the tentes, where Cupid did remayne.
Who deygned it my poore request, to ease mee of my charge,
And with his pleasant tales of truth, described the God at large.
Whom when I vewde I was amazde, and all abasht with feare,
Wherat my guide began to smile, and thus hee did declare.
Within that tente and cumly couch; whose couering seemeth red,
A grisly ghost beholde, by whom the mighty Gods bee led.
Yea none in heauen, in earth nor hell, that can resist the same.
Alas my Lorde (quoth I againe) this seemes most strang and rare,
Should all the Gods which rule in skyes, of one boy stand in feare.
In deede (quoth hee) this withered wight, doth so mollest their braine,
That those which bee of feebled age, hee turnes to boyes agayne.
For why in trickes of childish yeeres, hee causeth them to stay,
Neglecting duties of great waight, delighting nought but play.
My God (quoth I) to know all things, I greatly doo desire,
What is the cause that Venus sonne, is naked without attire,
(Quoth Morpheus) hee that liueth in loue, in folly passe his dayes,
And hee that hath but halfe an eye, may see his wauering wayes.
Ah silly wight, ah shaddow poore, (for flesh in him is skant)
And as hee seemeth to bee blinde, a brow so doth hee want
Hee is a type, (quoth Morpheus then) you know well what I meane,
And too much lust, and lechery, hath made him very leane.
Not lust alone, but care and thought, which doth perplex his minde
For to much lust may bee a cause, why Cupid seemeth blinde.
For those which liue in louers lawes, regarde not what they doo,
And ofte they thinke to bathe in blisse, but sinke in wretched woe.
A brow hee wants, for by the same, his souldiers doo deuine,
Wherto the motions of the harte, doo purpose to declyne.
And as the brow doth beare the badge, that bringeth death or life,
So they that badge doth hate and shun, which seeme to tel some strife.
But oh my God, why hath hee wings, adioyned to eche side,
Because that Cupid changeth ofte, and neuer long abide.
A bowe is bent within his hand, two quiuers at his backe,
Well may hee shoote, and wide enough, that doth his eye sight lacke.
It is not so among the Gods, as men suppose to bee,
Hee shootteth ofte, but nere in vaine, so stedfast holdeth hee.
That leane and naked boy, with force his mighty foes doo quell,
That blinde and winged Champion, doth shoote exceeding well.
And though hee browlesse seeme to bee, yet doth hee pearce the brain
Through skin and bone, hee hits the hart, wheras his Dart remain.
Then maruell not, though all the Gods, doo yeeld for want of might,
Sith none haue force for to resist, the strength of such a knight.
Both man and beast, both fish and foule, and all that life doth beare,
Are subiecte vnto Cupids bowe, which all the Gods doth feare.
The one is full of golden shaftes, the other full of lead.
The golden strike, the feruent wights, which pas their daies in loue
The leade doth wound the brasen harts, whō no complaint can moue
Poliphemus with Stenobia young Phedra felt the golde,
Galatea Belerophon, with the lead were stricken colde.
This while wee talked at leysure, loe, wee heard the trumpet sound,
Wherby we knew the Gods were come, from skyes vnto the ground
And as they had pretended erst, did set themselues in ranckes,
To march with Venus to the Campe, who yeelded them great thanks
And sounding out, God Mars his trumpe, to set them in aray,
They marched forth vnto the feeld, wheras their foes did stay.
But freendly Morpheus had mee first, for to discribe at large,
The order of God cupids campe, the which I will discharge.
And if it please my Angell then, to call mee to that sight,
I will discribe Dianas hap, which did befall in fight.
| A poore Knight his Pallace of priuate pleasures | |