Whenas my nymph, impatient of the night,
Bade bright Astræus* with his train give place,
Whiles she led forth the day with her fair face,
And lent each star a more than Delian light.

Not Jove or Nature, should they both agree
To make a woman of the firmament,
Of his mix'd purity could not invent
A sky-born form † so beautiful as she.

MELICERTUS' MADRIGAL.

WHAT are my sheep without their wonted food?
What is my life except I gain my love?
My sheep consume and faint for want of blood,
My life is lost unless I grace approve :
No flower that sapless thrives,

No turtle without fere.+

The day without the sun doth lour for woe,
Then woe mine eyes, unless they beauty see;
My sun Samela's eyes, by whom I know
Wherein delight consists, where pleasures be:
Naught more the heart revives

Than to embrace his dear.

The stars from earthly humours gain their light,
Our humours by their light possess their power;
Samela's eyes, fed by my weeping sight,
Infuse § my pain or joys by smile or lour:
So wends the source of love;

It feeds, it fails, it ends.

Kind looks, clear to your joy behold her eyes,
Admire her heart, desire to taste her kisses;
In them the heaven of joy and solace lies,
Without them every hope his succour misses:
O, how I love to prove
Whereto this solace tends!

MENAPHON'S SONG IN HIS BED. You restless cares, companions of the night, That wrap my joys in folds of endless woes, Tire on my heart, and wound it with your spite, Since love and fortune prove my equal foes:

Astraus] The father of the primeval stars: vide Aratus, AIN. 98; and compare Marlowe's Dido, Works, p. 252, ed. Dyce, 1858.

↑ A sky-born form, &c.] The Rev. J. Mitford (Gent. Mag. for March 1833, p. 218) remarks that this passage is borrowed, with some alterations, by the author of The Thracian Wonder, a play falsely ascribed to Webster (sec Webster's Works, iv. 211, ed. Dyce, 1830); and that Collins (Ode to Mercy) has adopted from our text the expression "Gentlest of sky-born forms," &c.

fereji. e. mate.

§ Infuse] The 4to, of 1589 "Insues"; that of 1616 "Infudes." Tire] i. e. prey.

Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days;
Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays.

Mourn heavens, mourn earth; your shepherd is
forlorn;
[bower;
Mourn times and hours, since bale invades my
Curse every tongue the place where I was born,
Curse every thought the life which makes me
lour:

Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days;
Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays.

Was I not free? was I not fancy's aim?
Fram'd not desire my face to front disdain?
I was; she did; but now one silly maim
Makes me to droop, as he whom love hath slain :
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days;
Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays.

Yet drooping, and yet living to this death,
I sigh, I sue for pity at her shrine,
Whose fiery eyes exhale my vital breath,
And make my flocks with parching heat to pine:
Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days;
Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays.

Fade they, die I: long may she live to bliss,
That feeds a wanton fire with fuel of her form,
And makes perpetual summer where she is;
Whiles I do cry, o'ertook with envy's storm,

"Farewell my hopes, farewell my happy days;

Welcome sweet grief, the subject of my lays."

SONG.

FAIR fields, proud Flora's vaunt, why is't you Whenas I languish? [smile

You golden meads, why strive you to beguile

My weeping anguish ?

I live to sorrow, you to pleasure spring:
Why do you spring thus?
What, will not Boreas, tempest's wrathful king,
Take some pity on us,
And send forth winter in her rusty weed,
To wail + my bemoanings,
Whiles I distress'd do tune my country-reed
Unto my groanings?
But heaven, and earth, time, place, and every
Have with her conspir'd [power

To turn my blissful sweets to baleful sour,
Since fond I desir'd

*That feeds, &c.] See note t, p. 285, first col. t wail] The 4to. of 1589 "waite.'

bemoanings] Qy. "moanings "?

Her eyes, fair eyes, like to the purest lights
That animate the sun or cheer the day;
In whom the shining sunbeams brightly play,
Whiles Fancy doth on them divine delights.

Her cheeks like ripen'd lilies steep'd in wine,
Or fair pomegranate-kernels wash'd in milk,
Or snow-white threads in nets of crimson silk,
Or gorgeous clouds upon the sun's decline.

take] The 4to. of 1589 "talke."

↑ Her locks are plighted like the fleece of wool

That Jason with his Grecian mates achiev'd]—plighted,

i. e. plaited, braided.-It is possible that Shakespeare
recollected these lines when he wrote the following;
"Her sunny locks

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,
And many Jasons come in quest of her."

The Merchant of Venice, act i. sc. 1.

Her lips are roses over-wash'd with dew,
Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower;
No frost their fair,* no wind doth waste their
power,

But by her breath her beauties do renew.

Her crystal chin like to the purest mould Enchas'd with dainty daisies soft and white, Where Fancy's fair pavilion once is pight,+ Whereas embrac'd his beauties he doth hold.

Her neck like to an ivory shining tower, Wherethrough with azure veins sweet nectar

runs,

Or like the down of swans where Senesse wons,+ Or like delight that doth itself devour.

Her paps are like fair apples in the prime,
As round as orient pearls, as soft as down;
They never vail§ their fair through winter's
frown,

But from their sweets Love sucks || his summertime.

Her body Beauty's best-esteemèd bower,
Delicious, comely, dainty, without stain;
The thought whereof (not touch) hath wrought
my pain;

Whose fair all fair and beauties doth devour.

Her maiden mount, the dwelling-house of Plea

sure;

Not like, for why no like surpasseth wonder:
O, blest is he may bring such beauties under,
Or search by suit the secrets of that treasure!

Devour'd in thought, how wanders my device!
What rests behind I must divine upon:
Who talks the best can say but "Fairer none";
Few words well-couch'd do most content the
wise.

All you that hear, let not my silly style Condemn my zeal; for what my tongue should

say

Serves to enforce my thoughts to seek the way Whereby my woes and cares I do beguile.

fair] i. e. beauty.

t pight] i. e. pitched.

wons] i. e. dwells.

§ vail] i. e. lower, let fall,-diminish.

|| sucks) Both 4tos. "suck'd."

for why] i. e. because.

U

Seld speaketh Love, but sighs his * secret pains; Tears are his truchmen,t words do make him tremble:

How sweet is Love to them that can dissemble In thoughts and looks till they have reap'd the gains!

All lonely I complain, and what I say

I think, yet what I think tongue cannot tell:
Sweet censors, take my silly worst for well;
My faith is firm, though homely be my lay.

MELICERTUS' ECLOGUE.

WHAT need compare where sweet exceeds compare?

Who draws his thoughts of Love from senseless things,

Their pomp and greatest glories doth impair, And mounts Love's heaven with over-laden wings.

Stones, herbs, and flowers, the foolish spoils of earth,

Floods, metals, colours, dalliance of the eye; These show conceit is stain'd with too much dearth,

Such abstract fond compares make cunning die.

But he that hath the feeling taste of Love
Derives his essence from no earthly toy;
A weak conceit his power cannot approve,
For earthly thoughts are subject to annoy.
Be whist, be still, be silent, censors, now:
My fellow-swain has told a pretty tale,
Which modern poets may perhaps allow,
Yet I condemn the terms, for they are stale.

Apollo, when my mistress first was born,
Cut off his locks, and left them on her head,
And said, "I plant these wires in Nature's scorn,
Whose beauties shall appear when time is dead."
From forth the crystal heaven when she was made,
The purity thereof did taint § her brow,
On which the glistering sun that sought the shade
Gan set, and there his glories doth avow.

Those eyes, fair eyes, too fair to be describ'd,
Were those that erst the chaos did reform;
To whom the heavens their beauties have ascrib'd,
That fashion life in man, in beast, in worm.

*his] Both 4tos. "her."

↑ truchmen] i. e. interpreters.

complain] Both 4tos. "am plaine."

§ taint] Equivalent to "tint:' sce note, p. 154, first

col.

When first her fair delicious cheeks were wrought, Aurora brought her blush, the moon her white; Both so combin'd as passed Nature's thought, Compil'd those pretty orbs of sweet delight.

When Love and Nature once were proud with play,

From both their lips her lips the coral drew;
On them doth Fancy sleep, and every day
Doth swallow joy, such sweet delights to view.

Whilom while Venus' son did seek a bower
To sport with Psyche, his desirèd dear,

He chose her chin, and from that happy stowre *
He never stints in glory to appear.

Desires and Joys, that long had served Love, Besought a hold where pretty eyes might woo

them :

Love made her neck, and for their best behove Hath shut them there, whence no man can undo

them.

Once Venus dream'd upon two pretty things, Her thoughts they weret affection's chiefest nests;

She suck'd, and sigh'd, and bath'd her in the springs,

And when she wak'd, they were my mistress' breasts.

Once Cupid sought a hold to couch his kisses, And found the body of my best-belov'd, Wherein he clos'd the beauty of his blisses, And from that bower can never be remov'd.

The Graces erst, when Acidalian springs
Were waxen dry, perhaps did find her fountain
Within the vale of bliss, where Cupid's wings
Do shield the nectar fleeting from the mountain.

No more, fond man: things infinite, I see, Brook no dimension; hell a foolish speech; For endless things may never talkèd be; Then let me live to honour and beseech.

* stowre] In old poetry frequently signifies tumult, disorder, battle, &c.: but here it means-time, moment; an interpretation of the word which is not given in any dictionary or glossary I have ever met with. Compare Lodge;

"Whose dire disdaine (the god that kindles loue,
And makes impressions straungly from aboue,
Misliking) strake with fancie at that stower."

Forbonius and Prisceria, 1584, Sig. I 2.

↑ Her thoughts they were, &c.] Walker (Shakespeare's Versification, &c., p. 285), after quoting examples of methought" and " methoughts" from our early poets, bids us "so understand Greene" in the present line.

Love is a discord, and a strange divorce
Betwixt our sense and reason, by whose power,
As mad with reason, we admit that force
Which wit or labour never may devour:

It is a will that brooketh no consent;
It would refuse, yet never may repent.
Love's a desire which, for to wait a time,
Doth lose an age of years, and so doth pass,
As doth the shadow, sever'd from his prime,
Seeming as though it were, yet never was;
Leaving behind nought but repentant

thoughts

Of days ill-spent, for that which profits
noughts.

It's now a peace, and then a sudden war;
A hope consum'd before it is conceiv'd;
At hand it fears, and menaceth afar;
And he that gains is most of all deceiv'd:
It is a secret hidden and not known,
Which one may better feel than write upon.

FROM

PERIMEDES, THE BLACKSMITH. (1588.)

MADRIGAL.

THE swans, whose pens as white as ivory,
Eclipsing fair Endymion's silver love,
Floating like snow down by the banks of Po,
Ne'er tun'd their notes, like Leda once forlorn,
With more despairing sorts of madrigals,
Than I, whom wanton Love hath with his gad
Prick'd to the core* of deep and restless thoughts.
The frolic youngsters Bacchus' liquor mads
Run not about the wood[s] of Thessaly
With more enchanted fits of lunacy
Than I, whom Love, whom sweet and bitter Love
Fires, infects with sundry passions;
Now lorn with liking over-much my love,
Frozen with fearing if I step too far,
Fired with gazing at such glimmering stars
As, stealing light from Phoebus' brightest rays,
Sparkle and set a flame within my breast.
Rest, restless Love; fond baby, be content;
Child, hold thy darts within thy quiver close:
An if thou wilt be roving with thy bow,
Aim at those hearts that may attend on love:
Let country swains and silly swadst be still;
To court, young wag, and wanton there thy fill.

*core] The 4to. "court."
tswads] i. e. clowns, bumpkins.

DITTY.

OBSCURE and dark is all the gloomy air,
The curtain of the night is overspread;
The silent mistress of the lowest sphere
Puts on her sable-colour'd veil and lours."
Nor star, nor milk-white circle of the sky,
Appears, where Discontent doth hold her lodge.
She sits shrin'd in a canopy of clouds,
Whose massy darkness mazeth every sense.
Wan are her looks, her cheeks of azure hue;
Her hairs as Gorgon's foul retorting snakes;
Envy the glass wherein the hag doth gaze;
Restless the clock that chimes her fast asleep;
Disquiet thoughts the minutes of her watch.
Forth from her cave the fiend full oft doth fly:
To kings she goes, and troubles them with crowns,
Setting those high-aspiring brands on fire,
That flame from earth unto the seat of Jove;
To such as Midas, men that dote on wealth,
And rent the bowels of the middle earth
For coin, who gape, as did fair Danaë,

For showers of gold,-there Discontent in black
Throws forth the vials of her restless cares;
To such as sit at Paphos for relief,
And offer Venus many solemn vows;
To such as Hymen in his saffron robe
Hath knit a Gordian knot of passions;
To these, to all, parting the gloomy air,
Black Discontent doth make her bad repair.

SONNET.

IN Cyprus sat fair Venus by a fount,

Wanton Adonis toying on her knee : She kiss'd the wag, her darling of account; The boy gan blush; which when his lover see, She smil'd, and told him love might challenge debt,

And he was young, and might be wanton yet.

The boy wax'd bold, firèd by fond desire,

That woo he could and court her with con

ceit:

Reason spied this, and sought to quench the fire With cold disdain; but wily Adon straight Cheer'd up the flame, and said," Good sir, what let? I am but young, and may be wanton yet."

Reason replied, that beauty was a bane

To such as feed their fancy with fond love, That when sweet youth with lust is overta'en, It rues in age: this could not Adon move,

*lours] The 4to. "lower."