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SONET XCVIII. MINE eyes would euer on thy beauties gaze,

Let others of the world's decaying tell, Mine eares are euer greedie of thy fame,

I enuy not those of the golden age, My heart is euer musing on the same,

That did their carelesse thoughts for nought engage, My tongue would still be busied with thy praise:

But cloy'd with all delights, liu'd long and well: I would mine eyes were blind and could not see, And as for me, I mind t' applaud my fate ; I would mine eares were deafe and would not heare; Though I was long in comming to the light, I would my heart would neuer hold thee deare, Yet may I mount to fortune's highest height, I would my tongue all such reports would fee: So great a good could neuer come too late ; Th' eyes in their circles do thy picture bold, I'm glad that it was not my chance to live, Th'eares' conducts keepe still ecchoes of thy worth, Till as that heauenly creature first was borne, The heart can neuer barre sweet fancies forth, Who as an angell doth the Earth adorne, The tongue that which I thinke must still vnfold :

And buried vertue in the tombe reniue : Thy beauties then from which I would rebell,

For vice ouerflowes the world with such a flood, Th' eyes see, th’eares heare, th' heart thinks, and That in it all, saue she, there is no good.

tongue must tell.


Whilst curiously I gaz'd on beautie's skies,
While as th' undanted squadrons of my mind,

My soule in litle liquid ruslets runne, On mountaines of deserts rear'd high desires, Like spowie mountaines melted with the Sunne, And my proud heart, that euermore aspires, Was liquified through force of two faire eyes, To scale the Heauen of beautie had design'd: Thence sprang pure springs and neuer-tainted The faire-fac'd goddesse of that stately frame In which a nymph her image did behold, (streames, Look'd on my haughtie thoughts with score a space; ' And cruell she (ah, that it should be told) Then thundred all that proud gigantike race, Whiles daign’d to grace them with some chearfull And from her lightning lights throw'd many a flame. Till once beholding that her shadow so, [beames, Then quite for to confound my loftie cares, Made those poore waters partners of her praise, Enen at the first encounter as it chanc'd,

She by abstracting of her beautie's rayes,
Th' ore-daring heart that to th' assault adnanc'd, With griefe congeal'd the source from whence they
Was cou'red with a weight of huge dispaires, But through the yce of that vniust disdaine, (flow:
Beneath the which the wretch doth still remaine, Yet still transpares her picture and my paine.
Casting forth flames of furie and disdaine.


Avrora, now haue I not cause to rage,
Farre tygresse, tell, contents it not thy sight, Since all thy fishing but a frog bath catchd ?
To see me die each day a thousand times? May I not mourne to see the morning matchd,
O how could I commit such monstrous crimes, With one that 's in the euening of his age ?
As merit to this martirdome by night?

Should hoary lockes, sad messengers of death, Not only hath thy wrath adiudg’d to paine, Sport with thy golden haires in beautie's inne? This earthly prison that thy picture keepes, And should that furrow'd face foyle thy smooth But doth the soule while as the bodie sleepes,

skinne, With many fearefull dreames from rest restraine. And bath it selfe in th' ambrosie of thy breath? Lo, thus I waste to worke a tyrant's will,

More then mine owne I lament thy mishaps; My dayes in torment, and my nights in terrour, Must he who, jealous through his owne defects, And here confin'd within an endlesse errour, Thy beautie's vnstain’d treasure still suspects, Without repentance do perseuer still :

Sleepe on the spow-swolne pillowes of thy paps, That it is hard to iudge though both be lost, While as a lothed burthen in thine armes, Whose constancie or crueltie is most.

Doth make thee out of time waile curelesse harmes.


SONET CI. Loose to a tyrant what it is to yeeld,

All that behold me on thy beautie's shelfe, Who printing still to publish my disgrace,

To cast my selfe away toss'd with conceit, The storie of my orethrow in my face,

Sinoe thou wilt haue no pitie of my state, Erects pale trophees in that bloudlesse field: Wouid that I tooke some pitie of my selfe: The world that views this strange triumphall arke, “For what,” say they," though she disdaine to bow, Reades in my lookes as lines thy beautie's deeds, And takes a pleasure for to see thee sad, Which in each mind so great amazement breeds, Yet there be many a one that would be glad, That I am made of many eyes the marke:

To bost themselves of such a one as thou.” But what auailes this tygresse triumph, O

But, ah, their counsell of small knowledge sauours, And could'st thou not be cruell if not knowne, For O, poore fooles, they see not what I see, But in this meagre map it must be showne, Thy frownes are sweeter then their smiles can be, That thou insultst to see thy subjects so?

The worst of thy disdaines worth all their fauours: And my disgrace it grieues me not so much, I rather (deare) of thine one looke to have, As that it should be said that tbou art such. Then of another all that I would craue.




With th' eccbo plac'd beside some solitary sourse,

Disastrous accidents shall be the ground of our disWhen as that louely tent of beautie dies, And that thou as thine enenie fleest thy glasse,

Her maimed words shal show how my hurt heart And doest with griefe remember what it was,

half dies, That to betray my heart allur'd mine eyes :

Consum'd with corrosiues of care, caractred in mine Then hauing bought experience with great paines,

eyes. Thou shalt (although too late) thine errour find,


My Muse shall now no more, transported with reWhilst thou reuolu'st in a digested mind,

Exalt that euill deseruing one aş fancie still directs: My faithfull loue, and thy vnkind disdaines :

Nor yet po partiall pen shall spot her spotlesse fame, And if that former times might be recald,

Vnhonestly dishonoring an honorable name. While as thou sadly silst retir'd alone,

But I shall sadly sing, too tragickly inclin'd, (mind. Then thou wouldst satisfie for all that 's gone,

Some subiect sympathizing with my melancholious And I in thy heart's throne would be instal’d: Deare, if I know thee of this mind at last,

Nor will I more describe my dayly deadly strife,

My publike wrongs, my priuate woes, mislucks ia I'le thinke my selfe aueng'd of all that 's past.

loue and life:

(toiles, That would but vexe the world for to extend my ELEGIE III.

la painting forth particularly my many formes of

foiles. Insilent horronrs bere, where neuer mirth remaines, No, none in speciall I purpose to bewray, [ay. I do retire my selfe apart, as rage and griefe con- Bat one as all, and all as onc, I mind to moure for straines :

for being iustly weigh'd, the least that 1 lament, So may I sigh vnknowne, whilst other comfort failes, Deserues indeed to be bewail'd, til th’ vse of th' An infranchised citizen of solitarie vales; (please,

eyes be spent; Her priniledge to plain, since nought but plaints can And since I should the least perpetually deplore, My sad conceptions I disclose, diseasedat my ease. The most again though maruellous, can be bemon'd No barrèn pitie here my passions doth increase,

no more. Nor no detracter here resorts, deriding my distresse: But wandring through the world, a vagabonding guest,


Acquiring most contentment then when I am reft of
Against those froward fates, that did my blisse con- To veeld to those I cannot but disdaine,

(my soule. Whose face doth but entangle foolish hearts; I thunder forth a thousand threats in th' anguish of It is the beautie of the better parts, And lo, lunaticke-like do dash on euery shelfe, With which I mind my fancies for to chaine. And conuocate a court of cares for to condemne my Those that haue nought wherewith men's minds to selfe :

But onely curled lockes and wanton lookes, (gaine, My fancies, which in end time doth fantasticke try, Are but like fleeting baites that have no hookes, I figure forth essentially in all the obiects by: Which may well take, but cannot well retaine: In enery corner where iny recklesse eye repaires, He that began to yeeld to th' outward grace, I reade great volumes of mishaps, memorials of And then the treasures of the mind doth proue: despaires:

He, who as 't were was with the maske in loue, All things that I behold vpbraid me my estate, What doth he thinke when as he sees the face? And oft I blush within my brest, asham'd of my No doubt being lim'd by th' outward colours so, conceit.

[winds, That inward worth would neuer let him go. Those branches broken downe with mercie-wanting Obiect me my deiected state, that greater fury finds: Their winter-beaten weed disperst vpon the plaine,

SONET CIV. Are like to my renounced hopes, all scattred with disdaine.

Long time I did thy cruelties detest, Lo,wondring at my state, the strongest torrent stayes, And blaz'd thy rigour in a thousand lines: And turning and returning oft, would scorne my That was but working all things for the best :

But now through my complaints thy vertue shines, crooked wayes. In end I find my fate ouer all before my face,

Thou of my rash affections held'st the raines, Enregistred eternally in th' annales of disgrace. And spying dangerous sparkes come from my fires, Those crosses out of count might make the rockes Didst wisely temper iny enflam'd desires, to riue,

(striue: With some chast fauours, mixt with sweet disdaines : That this small remanent of life for to extinguish And when thou saw'st I did all hope despise, And yet my rockie heart so hardned with mishaps, And look'd like one that wrestled with despaire, Now by no meanes can be commou'd, not with loue's Then of my safetie thy exceeding care, thunder claps :

Show'd that I kept thine heart, thou but thine eyes: But in huge woes innolu'd with intricating art,

For whilst thy reason did thy fancies tame, Surcharg'd with sorrowes I succomb and senslesly I saw the smoke, although thou hidst the flame.

do smart; And in this labyrinth exil'd from all repose, I consecrate this cursed corpes a sacrifice to woes:

SONET CV. Whilst many a furious plaint my smoaking breast Should I the treasure of niy life betake, (marre, shall breath,

To thought-toss'd breath whose babling might it Ecclips'd with many a clondie thought, aggrieu'd words with affection wing'd might flee too farre, vnto the death:

And once sent forth can neuer be brought backe:

Nor will I trust mine eyes, whose partiall lookes For then not hauing bound my selfe to any,
Haue oft conspir'd for to betray my mind, I being bound to none, was bound to many.
And would their light still to one obiect bind,
While as the fornace of my bosome smokes : Great god, that tam'st the gods' old-witted child,
No, no, my loue, and that which makes me thrall, Whose temples brests, whose altars are men's
Shall onely be entrusted to my soule,

From my heart's fort thy legions are exil'd, [hearts,
So may I stray, yet none my course controule, And Hymen's torch hath burn'd out all thy darts:
Whilst though orethrowne,none triumphs for my fall : Since I in end haue bound my selfe to one,
My thoughts, while as contin'd within my brest, That by this meanes I may be bound to none.
Shall onely priuie to my passions rest.

Thou daintie goddesse with the soft white skinne,

To whom so many offrings dayly smoke,

Were beautie's processe yet for to begin,

That sentence I would labour to reuoke: , AWAKE, my Muse, and leaue to dreame of loues,

Which on mount Ida as thy smiles did charme, Shake off soft fancie's chaines, I must be free,

The Phrigian shepheard gaue to his owne harme. l'le perch no more, vpon the mirtle tree, Nor glide through th'aire with beautie's sacred doues;

And if the qnestion were refer'd to mee, But with loue's stately bird I'le leaue my nest,

On whom I would bestow the ball of gold, And trie my sight against Apolloe's raies :

I feare me Venus should be last of three,

For with the thunderer's sister I would hold, Then if that ought my ventrous course dismaies, Vpon the oliue's boughes I'le light and rest:

Whose honest flames pent in a lawfull bounds, l'le tune my accents to a trumpet now,

No feare disturbs, por yet no shame confounds. And seeke the laurell in another field, Thus I that once, as beautie meanes did yeeld,

I mind to speake no more of beautie's doue, * Did diuers garments on my thoughts bestow:

The peacocke is the bird whose fame I'le raise; Like Icarus I feare, vnwisely bold,

Not that I Argos need to watch my love,
Am purpos'd others' passions now t vnfold.

But so his mistris Iuno for to praise:
And if I wish his eyes, then it shall be,

That I with many eyes my loue may see.

Then farewell crossing ioyes, and ioyfull crosses,

Most bitter sweets, and yet most sugred sowers, FAREWELL sweet fancies, and once deare delights, Most hurtfull gaines, yet most commodious losses,

The treasures of my life, which made me proue That made my yeares to flee away like howers, That vnaccomplish'd joy that charm'd the sprights, and spent the spring-time of mine age in vaine,

And whilst by it I onely seem'd to moue, Which now my suinmer must redeeme againe. Did hold my rauish'd soule, big with desire, That tasting those, to greater did aspire.

O welcome easie yoke, sweet bondage came,

I seeke not from thy toiles for to be shielded, Farewell free thraldome, freedome that was thrall, But I am well content to be orecome, While as I led a solitary life,

Since that I must commaund wben I have yeelded: Yet neuer lesse alone, whilst arm'd for all, Then here I quit both Cupid and bis mother,

My thoughts were busied with an endlesse strife: And do resigne my selfe i' obtaine another.

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Thy Phoenix-Muse still wing U with wonders Alves, ENCOMIUM BY DRUMMOND.

Praise of our broukes, staine to old Pindus Like Sophocles (the hearers in a trance)

springs, With crimson Cothurne, on a stately stage, (glance) And who thee follow would, scarce with their eyes If thou march forth (where all with ponup doth can reach the spheare where thou most sweetly To one the monarchs of the world's first age:

sings. Or if like Phoebus thou thy selfe advance; (badge, Though string'd with starres, Heavens, Orpheus All bright with sacred fames, known by Heaven's

harpe enrolle, To make a day, of dayes which scornes the rage: More wortby thine to blaze about the pole. Whilst, when they end, it, what should come, dotla


But yet what I admir'd, not strange doth seeme,

When as I heare (0 Heavens should such have DOOMES-DAY;


That there be men (if men we may esteeme OR,

Trunkes that are void of soules, soules void of faith,) THE GREAT DAY OF THE LORD'S IVDGEMENT.

Who all this world the worke of fortune deeme,
Not hoping mercy, nor yet fearing wrath,
There is no God, fooles in their hearts doe say,
Yet make their hearts their gods, and them obey.



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The stately Heavens which glory doth array,

Are mirrours of God's admirable might; (the day, God by his workes demonstratively prov'd ;

There, whence forth spreads the night, forth springs

He fix'd the fountaines of this temporall light, His providence (impugning Atheisme) urg'd; The divels from Heaven, from Eden man remor’d; All sparks of his great power (though small get

Where stately stars enstalld, some stand, some stray, Of guilty guests the world by water purg'd; Who never sinn to dye for sinne behov'd;

bright.) Those who him scourg'd in God's great wrath are

By what none utter can, no, not conceive, scourg'd;


All of his greatnesse, shadowes may perceive. Some temporali plagues and fearefull judgements What glorious lights through christall lanternes Are cited here as figures of the last.

(As alwaies burning with their Maker's love)

Spheares keepe one musicke, they one measure Trou, of whose power(not reach'd by reason’sheight) And all by order led, not drawne by chance,

Like influence below, like course above, [dance, The sea a drop, we th' earth a mote may call: And for whose trophees, stately to the sight,

With majestie (as still in triumph) move. The azure arke was rear'd (although too small)

And (liberall of their store) seeme shouting thus;

“ Looke Ard from the lampe of whose most glorious light

ali soules, and gaze on God through us.' The Sun (a sparke) weake, for weake eyes did fall, Breath thou a heavenly fury in my brest:

This pond'rous masse (though oft deformn'd) still faire, I sing the sabbath of eternall rest.

Great in our sight, yet then a starre more small,

Is ballanc'd (as a mote) amidst the agre; Though every where discern'd, no where confin'd, None knowes what way, yet to no side doth fall, O thon, whose feet the clouds (as dust) afford, And yearely springs, growes ripe, fades, falles, rich, Whose royce the thunder, and whose breath the

bare, winde, [thy word. Men's mother first, still mistresse, yet their thrall

. Whose foot-stoole th’ Earth, seate Heaven, works of It centers Heavens, Heavens compasse it, both be Guards, hosts of angels moving by thy minde, Bookes where God's pow'r the ignorant may see. Whose weapons, famine, tempest, pest, and sword; My cloudy knowledge by thy wisdome cleare, And by my weakenesse make thy power appeare.

What ebbes, flowes, swels, and sinks, who firme doth


Whil'st flouds from th' earth burst in abundance out, Loe, ravish'd (Lord) with pleasure of thy love,

As she her brood did wash, or for them weepe: I feele my soule enflam'd with sacred fires, Thy judgements, and thy mercies, whil'st I move,

Who(having life)what dead things prove,dare doubt; To celebrate, my Muse with zeale aspires;

Who first did found the dungeons of the deepe? Lord, by thy helpe this enterprise approve,

But one in all, ore all, above, about: That successe so may second my desires,

The flouds for our delight, first calme were set,' Make Sathan's race to tremble at my lines,

But storme and roare, since men did God forget. And thine rejoyce while as thy glory shines.

Who parts the swelling spouts that sift the raine? Ye blinded soules, who even in frailty trust,

Who reines the winds, the waters doth empale ? By moment's pleasures earning endlesse paine,

Whofrownes in stormes,then smilesin calmes againe, Whilst charg'd with heavy chaines, vileslaves to lust, And doth dispense the treasures of the haile? Of earth, and earthly, till en-earth'd againe;

Whose bow doth bended in the clouds remaine? Heare, hold, and weigh my words, for once ye must

Whose darts (dread thunder-bolts) make men look The strange effects of what I tell sustaine :

pale? I goe to sing (or thunder) in your eares,

Even thus these things to show his power aspire, A Heaven of comfort, or a Hell of feares.

As shadowes doe the Sunne, as smoke doth fire. All my transported thoughts at randome Aye, God visibly invisible who raignes, And where to fixe, no solid ground can finde, Soule of all soules, whose light each light directs, Whil'st silent wondring makes a setled eye, All first did freely make, and still maintaines, What huge amazement hath o’rewhelm'd my minde? The greatest rules, the meanest not neglects; How some dare scorne (as if a fabulous lye) Fore-knowes the end of all that he ordaines, That they should rise whom death to dust doth binde, His will each cause, each cause breeds fit effects

, And like to beasts, a beastly life they leade, Who did make all, all thus could onely leade, Who nought attend save death when they are dead. None could make all, but who was never made.

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Vile dogge, who wouldst the ground of truth ore- That when th’ Earth is his prospect from the skies, throw,

As men on beasts, on men he casts his eyes.
Thy selfe to marke thy darkened judgement leade.
For (if thy selfe) thou must thy Maker know,

No, high in Heaven from whence he bindes,and frees, Who all thy members providently made,

He in voluptuous ease pot wallowing lyes; Thy feet tread th' earth (to be contemnd) laid low, What was, what is, what shall be, all he sees, To looke on Heaven exalted was thy head.

Weighs every worke, each heart in secret tryes, That therethou might'st the stately mansion see, [be. Doth all record, then daily by degrees From whence thou art, where thou should'st seeke to Gives, or abstracts his grace, cause, end, both spies.

His contemplation farre transcends our reach, The world in soules, God's image cleare may see,

Yet what fits us to know, his word doth teach. Though mirrours brus'd when falne, sparks dim'd Then to confirme what was affirm'd before,

far flowne, They in strict bounds, strict bonds, kept captive be, Who doe blaspheme (say fooles) or who adore,

That no God is, or God doth not regard, Yet walke ore all this all, and know not known;

This oft due vengeance wants, and that reward, Yea soare to Heaven, as from their burden free,

Then godly men the wicked prosper more, And there see things which cannot well be showne.

Who seeme at freedome, and the others snar'd. None can conceive, all must admire his might, Of wbom each atome gives so great a light.

Such(as they thinke)feele paine,and dreame butjoy,

Whilst they what can be wish'd, doe all enjoy. When troubled conscience reads accusing scroules, | The Sunne in all like comfort doth infuse, Which witness'd are even by the breast's own brood; The raine to all by equall portions parts, O what a terrour wounds remording soules, Heaven's treasures all alike both have, and use, Who poyson finde what seem'd a pleasant food! Which God to all (as lov'd alike) imparts; A secret pow'r their wand'ring thoughts controules, Each minde's free state like passions doe abuse, And (damning evill) an author proves of good. Each burd'nous body by like sicknesse smarts. Thus here some mindes a map of Hell doe lend, Thus all alive alike all fortunes try, To show what horrours damned soules attend. And as the bad, even so the best doe dye. To grant a God, the Divel may make men wise,

O men most simple, and yet more then mad, Whose apparitions atheists must upbraid,

Whose foolish hearts sinne wholy bath subdu'd, Who borrowing bodies, doth himselfe disguise,

Whilst good men now are griev'd, though you be glad, Lest some his uglinesse might make afraid :

They weake, (yet pure) you strong,(yet stain'd, and Yet oft in monstrous formes doth roaring rise,

Huge are the oddes betwixt the best and bad [lew'd) Till even (as charm'd) the charmer stands dismaid. Which darkely here, hence shall be cleerely view'd. He bellowing forth abhominable lyes,

When of God's wrath the winde sifts soules at last, Bloud in his mouth, and terrour in his eyes.

They shall abide, you vanish at a blast. Who saves the world lest that it ruin'd be

God's benefits though like to both design'd, By him whose thoughts (as arrowes) ayme at ill,

Whil'st judgement doth upon weake sight depend, Save one that rules the world by his decree;

Yet th' inward eyes a mighty difference finde, Who makes his power not equall with his will ?

To ballance them whil'st spirituall thoughts ascend, Of which (not left to plague at pleasure free)

The gift is one, but not the giver's minde, He (forc'd) affords a testimony still,

The use is one, but not the user's end.
From every thing thus springs to God some praise, Those take themselves to please, they him to praise.

God so would clogge the one, the other raise,
Men, angels, divels, all must his glory raise.
Though trusting more, yet some transgresse as much The godly ill, the wicked good may have,

And both may be whil'st here, pleas'd, or annoy'd :As those who unto God draw never neare:

But as they are, all make what they receive, For what the first not see, the last not touch,

Not real of it selfe, but as imploy'd; Th’ ones’eyes are blinde, the others' are not cleare:

Those temporall treasures monuments doe leave, Their mindes (false mirrours) frame a god, for such

As by a blessing, or a curse convoy'd. As waters straight things crooked make appeare.

But this is sure, what ever God doth send, Their faith is never firme, their love not bright,

To good men's good, to evill men's ill doth tend. As ankers without holds, fires without light.

God, soules to cure, doth divers balmes apply, Their judgements fond, by frailty all confinde, Whil'st bis intent the successe still doth crowne; Whose soule (as water) vanity devoures ;

Some are press'd downe, lest they should swell too Doe faine in God what in themselves they finde,


[downe: And by their weaknesse judge the pow'r of pow'rs; Some are rais'd high, lest that they should sinke Then (the unbounded bounding by their minde) Some must have wealth, their charity to try, Would staine Heaven's garden with terrestriall Some poverty, their patience to renowne. " Men still imagine others as they are, [flowres. “He who made all, knowes all, and as they neede And measure all things by corruption's square.” Not as they wish, makes things with his succeed.!! They thinke that God soft pleasure doth affect, Since worldly things, Gud makes both sorts possesse, And jocund, lofty, lull'd in ease, as great,

Whose use in them a gratefulnesse sbould move: Doth scorne, contemne, or at the least neglect Let us seeke greater things (though seeming lesse), Man's fickle, abject, and laborious state,

Which for one sort doe onely proper prove, That he disdaines to guerdon, or correct

That heavenly grace, whose power none can expresse, Man's good or euill, as free from love, or hate. Whose fruits are vertue, zeale, faith, hope, and love.

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