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Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,

The one a palate hath that needs will taste, What rounds, what bounds, what course, what Though Reason weep, and cry“ It is thy last.”

stop he makes!" And controversy hence a question takes,

“For further I could

say

“This man's untrue," Whether the horse by him became his deed, And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling; 170 Or he his manage by the well-doing steed. Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew,

Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; But quickly on this side the verdict went: Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling ; His real habitude gave life and grace

Thought characters and words merely but art, To appertainings and to ornament,

And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case: All aids, themselves made fairer by their place, And long upon these terms I held my city, Came for additions; yet their purposed trim Till thus he gan besiege me: “Gentle maid, Pieced not his grace, but were all graced by him. Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,

And be not of my holy vows afraid : “So on the tip of his subduing tongue

That's to ye sworn to none was ever said ; 180 All kind of arguments and question deep,

For feasts of love I have been call'd unto,
All replication prompt, and reason strong, Till now did ne'er invite, nor never woo.
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, "All my offences that abroad you see
He had the dialect and different skill,

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind;
Catching all passions in his craft of will:

Love made them not: with acture they may be,

Where neither party is nor true nor kind: "That he did in the general bosom reign

They sought their shame that so their shame did Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted,

find; To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain And so much less of shame in me remains, In personal duty, following where he haunted: 130 By how much of me their reproach contains. Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted; And dialogued for him what he would say,

Among the many that mine eyes have seen, 190 Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. Not one whose flame my heart so much as

warm’d,
Many there were that did his picture get, Or my affection put to the smallest teen,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; Or any of my leisures ever charm’d:
Like fools that in th' imagination set

Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was The goodly objects which abroad they find

harm'd; Oflands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd; Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them And reign’d, commanding in his monarchy. Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them:

140 "“Look here, what tributes wounded fancies

sent me, So many have, that never touch'd his hand, Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood; Sweetly supposed them mistress of his heart. Figuring that they their passions likewise My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,

lent me And was my own fee-simple, not in part,

Of grief and blushes, aptly understood What with his art in youth, and youth in art, In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood; Threw my affections in his charmed power, Effects of terror and dear modesty, Reserved the stalk and gave him all my flower. Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. 'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,

"And, lo, behold these talents of their hair, Demand of him, nor being desired yielded; With twisted metal amorously impleach'd, Finding myself in honour so forbid,

150 I have received from many a several fair, With safest distance I mine honour shielded : Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd, Experience for me many bulwarks builded With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd, Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil And deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.

Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. 210 ‘But, ah, who ever shunn'd by precedent «« The diamond,—why, 'twas beautiful and hard, The destined ill she must herself assay ?

Whereto his invised properties did tend; Or forced examples, 'gainst her own content, The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard To put the by-past perils in her way?

Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay; The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend For when we rage, advice is often seen 160 With objects manifold: each several stone, By blunting us to make our wits more keen. With wit well blazon'd, smiled or made some moan. 'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,

Lo, all these trophies of affections hot, That we must curb it upon others' proof;

Of pensived and subdued desires the tender, To be forbod the sweets that seem so good, Nature hath charged me that I hoard them not, 220 For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. But yield them up where I myself must render, O appetite, from judgement stand aloof!

That is, to you, my origin and ender;

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For these, of force, must your oblations be, And supplicant their sighs to you extend,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,

Lending soft audience to my sweet design, (O, then, advance of yours that phraseless And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath hand,

That shall prefer and undertake my troth.” 280 Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise ;

'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, Take all these similes to your own command, Whose sights till then were levellid on my face ; Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise ; Each cheek a river running from a fount What me your minister, for you obeys,

With brinish current downward flow'd apace: Works under you; and to your audit comes 230 O, how the channel to the stream gave grace! Their distract parcels in combined sums.

Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses

That flame through water which their hue en““Lo, this device was sent me from a nun,

closes.
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;
Which late her noble suit in court did shun, O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote; In the small orb of one particular tear!
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, But with the inundation of the eyes

290 But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, What rocky heart to water will not wear? To spend her living in eternal love.

What breast so cold that is not warmed here?

O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
But, O my sweet, what labour is't to leave Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath.
The thing we have not, mastering what not
strives,

For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft,
+ Playing the place which did no form receive, 241 Even there resolved my reason into tears;
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves? There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
She that her fame so to herself contrives,

Shook off

my sober guards and civil fears; The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight, Appear to him, as he to me appears, And inakes her absence valiant, not her might. All melting; though our drops this difference

bore,

300 ""O, pardon me, in that my boast is true: His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. The accident which brought me to her eye Upon the moment did her force subdue,

'In him a plenitude of subtle matter, And now she would the caged cloister fly: Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives, Religious love put out Religion's eye: 250 Of burning blushes, or of weeping water, Not to be tempted, would she be immured, Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves, And now, to tempt, all liberty procured.

In either's aptness, as it best deceives,

To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes, "“How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell! Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows : The broken bosoms that to me belong Have emptied all their fountains in my well, "That not a heart which in his level came And mine I pour your ocean all among:

Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, 310 I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, Showing fair nature is both kind and tame; Must for your victory us all congest,

And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would As compound love to physic your cold breast.

maim :

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; "“My parts had power to charm a sacred nun, When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, Who, disciplined, ay, dieted in grace, 261 He preach'd pure maid, and praised cold chastity. Believed her eyes when they to assail begun, All vows and consecrations giving place:

* Thus merely with the garment of a Grace O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,

The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, That th’ unexperient gave the tempter place, For thou art all, and all things else are thine. Which like a cherubin above them hover'd.

Who, young and simple, would not be so ““When thou impressest, what are preceptsworth lover'd?

320 Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame, Ay me! I fell; and yet do question make How coldly those impediments stand forth What I should do again for such a sake. Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame! 270 | Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst 'O, that infected moisture of his eye, sense, 'gainst shame,

O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd, And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,

0, all that borrow'd motion seeming owed, (Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd, Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine ; | And new pervert a reconciled maid!'

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II.

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70

1.

The tender nibbler would not touch the bait, When my love swears that she is made of truth, But smile and jest at every gentle offer: I do believe her, though I know she lies,

Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward: That she might think me some untutor’d youth, He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward! Unskilful in the world's false forgeries. Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,

V. Although I know my years be past the best, I smiling credit her salse-speaking tongue, If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to Outfacing faults in love with love's ill rest.

love? But wherefore says my love that she is young? O never faith could hold, if not to beauty vow'd: And wherefore say not I that I am old?

Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll constant 0, love's best habit is a soothing tongue,

prove; And age, in love, loves not to have years told. Those thoughts, to me like oaks, to thee like Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me, osiers bow'd.

60 Since that our faults in love thus smother'd be. Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine

eyes, Where all those pleasures live that art can com

prehend. Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall That like two spirits do suggest me still;

suffice; My better angel is a man right fair,.

Well learned is that tongue that well can thee My worser spirit a woman colour'd'ill.

commend : To win me soon to hell, my female evil

All ignorant that soul that sees thee without Tempteth my better angel from my side,

wonder; And would corru my saint to be a devil, Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire: Wooing his purity with her fair pride.

Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend,

dreadful thunder, Suspect I may, yet not directly tell:

Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire. For being both to me, both to each friend,

Celestial as thou art, O do not love that wrong, I guess one angel in another's hell;

To sing heaven's praise with such an earthly The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,

tongue. Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

VI.
Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,

And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade, Did not the heuvenly rhetoric of thine eye, When Cytherea, all in love forlorn, 'Gainst whom the world could not hold argu- A longing tarriance for Adonis made ment,

30

Under an osier growing by a brook, Persuade my heart to this false perjury?

A brook where Adon used to cool his spleen: Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment. Hot was the day; she hotter that did look A woman I forswore; but I will prove,

For his approach, that often there had been. Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee: Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by, My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love ; And stood stark naked on the brook's

green brim; Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me. The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye, 81 My vow was breath, and breath a vapour is; Yet not so wistly as this queen on him. Then, thou fair sun, that on this earth doth shine, He, spying her, bounced in, whereas he stood: Exhale this vapour vow; in thee it is:

'Jove,' quoth she, “why was not I a flood !' If broken, then it is no fault of mine. If by me broke, what fool is not so wise

VII. To break an oath, to win a paradise?

Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle ;

Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty; IV.

Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle; Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook

Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty: With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green, A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her, Did court the lad with many a lovely look,

None fairer, nor none falser to deface her. 90 Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen. She told him stories to delight his ear;

Her lips to mine how often hath she joined, She show'd him favours to allure his eye;

Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing! To win his heart, she touch'd him here and How many tales to please me hath she coined, there,

Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing! Touches so soft still conquer chastity.

50

Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, But whe:her unripe years did want conceit, Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were Or he refused to take her figured proffer,

jestings.

III.

40

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire slameth; / 'Even thus,' quoth she, “the warlike god em-
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth; braced me,
She framed the love, and yet she fil'd the fram- And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms;
ing;

‘Even thus,' quoth she, “the warlike god unlaced She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning. 100 me, Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?

As if the boy should use like loving charms; 150 Bad in the best, though excellent in neither. * Even thus,' quoth she, he seized on my lips,'

And with her lips on his did act the seizure:

And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
VIII.

And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure. If music and sweet poetry agree,

Ah, that I had my lady at this bay,
As they must needs, the sister and the brother, To kiss and clip me till I run away!
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
Because thou lovest the one, and I the other.

XII.
Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense ;

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care;.
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence. IIO Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Thou lovest to hear the sweet melodious sound Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
That Phoebus' lute, the queen of music, makes; Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; 161
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd

Youth is nimble, age is lame; Whenas himself to singing he betakes.

Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; One god is god of both, as poets feign;

Youth is wild, and age is tame. One knight loves both, and both in thee remain. Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;

0, my love, my love is young!

Age, i do defy thee: 0, sweet shepherd, hie thee, IX.

For methinks thou stay'st too long. Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love,

XIII. Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove, For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild; 120 Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill: A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly; 170 Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds; A flower that dies when first it gins to bud; She, silly queen, with more than love's good will, A brittle glass that's broken presently: Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds: A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Once,' quoth she, did I see a fair sweet youth Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,

And as goods lost are seld or never found,
Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!

As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,
See, in my thigh,' quoth she, ‘here was the sore.' As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground,
She showed hers: he saw more wounds than As broken glass no cement can redress,
one,

So beauty blemish'd once's for ever lost,
And blushing fled, and left her all alone.

In spite of physic, painting, pain and cost. 180

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130

x.

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon

vaded,
Pluck'd in the bud, and vaded in the spring:
Pright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded !
Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp

sting!
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,

And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have ;
For why thou left'st me nothing in thy will:
And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;
For why I craved nothing of thee still:

140
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee,
Thy discontent thou didst bequcath to me.

XIV.
Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be

my

share: She bade good night that kept my rest away; And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care, To descant on the doubts of my decay. 'Farewell,' quoth she, “and come again to

morrow : Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow. Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile, In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether: 'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 'T may be, again to make me wander thither :

“Wander,' a word for shadows like myself, 191 As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.

XV.

XI.

Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him: Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. She told the youngling how god Mars did try Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, her,

While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, And as he fell to her, so fell she to him.

And wish her lays were tuned like the lark;

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty, Were I with her, the night would post too soon ;
And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night: But now are minutes added to the hours;
The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty; 201 To spite me now, each minute seems a moon;
Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight; Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers!
Sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now

borrow: For why, she sigh'd and bade me come to- Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to.

sorrow;

morrow.

morrow.

210

SONNETS TO SUNDRY NOTES OF MUSIC. .

Love's denying,
Faith's defying,

250 Heart's renying,

Causer of this.
All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
All my lady's love is lost, God wot:
Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
There a nay is placed without remove.
One silly cross
Wrought all my loss;

O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame! For now I see

260 Inconstancy

More in women than in men remain.

[xvi.) It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of

three, That liked of her master as well as well might be, Till looking on an Englishman, the fair'st that

eye could see, Her fancy fell a-turning. Long was the combat doubtful that love with love

did fight, To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant

knight: To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite

Unto the silly damsel ! But one must be refused; more mickle was the pain That nothing could be used to turn them both to

gain, For of the two the trusty knight was wounded

with disdain : Alas, she could not help it! Thus art with arms contending was victor of the

day, Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid

away : Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady

gay ;
For now my song is ended.

220

In black mourn I,
All fears scorn I,
Love hath forlorn me,

Living in thrall :
Heart is bleeding,
All help needing,
O cruel speeding,
Fraughted with gall.

270
My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal;
My wether's bell rings doleful knell;
My curtail dog, that wont to have play'd,
Plays not at all, but seems afraid ;
My sighs so deep
Procure to weep,

In howling wise, to see my doleful plight. How sighs resound Through heartless ground, Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight!

280

XVII.

230

On a day, alack the day!
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spied a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, gan passage find;
That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath,
Air,' quoth he, “thy cheeks may blow;
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alas ! my hand hath sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack! for youth unmeet:
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.'

240

Clear wells spring not,
Sweet birds sing not,
Green plants bring not

Forth their dye;
Herds stand weeping,
Flocks all sleeping,
Nymphs back peeping

Fearfully: All our pleasure known to us poor swains, All our merry meetings on the plains, 290 All our evening sport from us is fied, All our love is lost, for Love is dead. Farewell, sweet lass, Thy like ne'er was For a sweet content, the cause of all my

moan: Poor Corydon Must live alone; Other help for him I see that there is

none.

[xvii.) My flocks feed not, My ewes breed not, Mv rams speed not,

All is amiss:

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