VI.

At last so faire a ladie did I spie,
That thinking yet on her I burne and quake;
On hearbs and flowres she walked pensively,
Milde, but yet Love she proudly did forsake:
White seem'd her robes, yet woven so they were,
As snow and golde together had been wrought:
Above the wast a darke cloude shrouded her,
A stinging serpent by the heele her caught;
Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure;
And, well assur'd, she mounted up to ioy.
Alas, on earth so nothing doth endure,
But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy:

Which make this life wretched and miserable,
Tossed with stormes of fortune variable.

VII.

When I beheld this tickle trustles state
Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro,
And mortall men tossed by troublous fate
In restles seas of wretchednes and woe;
I wish I might this wearie life forgoe,
And shortly turne unto my happie rest,
Where my free spirite might not anie moe
Be vext with sights, that doo her peace molest.
And ye, faire ladie, in whose bounteous brest
All heavenly grace and vertue shrined is,
When ye, these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest,
Loath this base world, and thinke of heavens blis:
And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures,
Yet thinke, that death shall spoyle your goodly
features.

It was the time, when rest, soft sliding downe
From heavens hight into mens heavy eyes,
In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth drowne
The carefull thoughts of mortall miseries;
Then did a ghost before mine eyes appeare,
On that great rivers banck, that runnes by Rome;
Which, calling me by name, bad me to reare
My lookes to heaven whence all good gifts do come,
And crying lowd, Lo! now beholde (quoth hee)
What under this great temple placed is:
Lɔ, all is nought but flying vanitee!
So I, that know this worlds inconstancies,
Sith ouely God surmounts all times decay,
In God alone my confidence do stay.

II.

On high hills top I saw a stately frame,
An hundred cubits high by iust assize,
with hundreth pillours fronting faire the same,
All wrought with diamond after Dorick wize:
Nor brick nor marble was the wall in view,
But shining christall, which from top to base
Out of her womb a thousand rayons threw,
One hundred steps of Afrike golds enchase:
Golde was the parget; and the seeling bright
Did shine all scaly with great plates of golde;
The floore of iasp and emeraude was dight.
O worlds vainesse! Whiles thus I did behold,
Au earthquake shooke the hill from lowest seat,
And overthrew this frame with ruine great.

III.

Then did a sharped spyre of diamond bright,
Ten feete each way in square appeare to mee,
Justly proportion'd up unto his hight,
So far as archer might his level see:
The top thereof a pot did seeme to beare,
Made of the mettall, which we most do honour;
And in this golden vessel couched weare
The ashes of a mighty emperour:
Upon foure corners of the base were pight,
To beare the frame, foure great lyons of gold;
A worthy tombe for such a worthy wight.
Alas, this world doth nought but grievance hold!
I saw a tempest from the heaven descend,
Which this brave monument with flash did rend.

IV.

I saw raysde up on yvorie pillowes tall,
Whose bases were of richest mettalls warke,
The chapters alablaster, the fryses christall,
The double front of a triumphall arke:
On each side purtraid was a Victorie,
Clad like a nimph, that winges of silver weares,
And in triumphant chayre was set on hie,
The auncient glory of the Roman peares.
No worke it seem'd of earthly craftsmans wit,
But rather wrought by his owne industry,
That thunder-dartes for Iove his syre doth fit.
Let me no more see faire thing under sky,

Sith that mine eyes have seene so faire a sight
With sodain fall to dust consumed quight.

V.

Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene,
Upon seaven hills to spread his gladsome gleame,
And conquerours bedecked with his greene,
Along the bancks of the Ausonian streame :
There many an auncient trophee was addrest,
And many a spoyle, and many a goodly show,
Which that brave races greatnes did attest,
That whilome from the Troyan blood did flow,
Ravisht I was so rare a thing to vew;
When lo! a barbarous troupe of clownish fone
The honour of these noble boughs down threw :
Under the wedge I heard the tronck to grone;

And, since, I saw the roote in great disdaine
A twinne of forked trees send forth againe.

VI.

I saw a wolfe under a rockie cave
Noursing two whelpes; I saw her litle ones
In wanton dalliance the teate to crave, [nones:
While she her neck wreath'd from them for the
I saw her raunge abroad to seeke her food,
And roming through the field with greedie rage
T'embrew her teeth and clawes with lukewarm blood
Of the small herds, her thirst for to asswage.
I saw a thousand huntsmen, which descended
Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie,
That with an hundred speares her flank wide rended
I saw her on the plane outstretched lie,
Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle;
Soone on a tree uphang'd I saw her spoyle.
2 D2

VII.

I saw the bird that can the sun endure,
With feeble wings assay to mount on hight;
By more and more she gan her wings t'assure,
Following the ensample of her mothers sight
I saw her rise, and with a larger flight
To pierce the cloudes, and with wide pinneons
To measure the most haughtie mountaines hight,
Untill she raught the gods owne mansions :
There was she lost; when suddaine I behelde,
Where tumbling through the ayre in fierie fold,
All flaming downe she on the plaine was felde,
And soone her bodie turn'd to ashes colde.

I saw the foule, that doth the light despise,
Out of her dust like to a worme arise.

I saw a river swift, whose fomy bllowes
Did wash the ground-work of an old great wall;
I saw it cover'd all with griesly shadowes,
That with black horror did the ayre appall:
Thereout a strange beast with seven heads arose,
That townes and castles under her brest did coure,
And seem'd both milder beasts and fiercer foes
Alike with equall ravine to devoure.
Much was I mazde, to see this monsters kinde
In hundred formes to change his fearefull hew;
When as at length I saw the wrathful winde,
Which blows cold storms, burst out of Scithian mew,
That sperst these cloudes; and, in so short as
thought,

This dreadfull shape was vanished to nought.

IX.

Then all astonied with this mighty ghoast,
An hideous bodie big and strong I sawe,

With side-long beard, and locks down hanging loast,
Sterne face, and front full of Satúrnlike awe
Who, leaning on the belly of a pot,

Pourd forth a water, whose out gushing flood
Ran bathing all the creakie shore aflot,
Whereon the Troyan prince spilt Turnus blood;
And at his feete a bitch wolfe suck did yeeld
To two young babes: His left the palme tree stout,
His right hand did the peacefull olive wield;
And head with lawrell garnisht was about.

Sudden both palme and olive fell away,
And faire greene lawrell branch did quite decay.

X.

Hard by a river side a virgin faire,
Folding her armes to heaven with thousand throbs,
And outraging her cheekes and golden haire,
To falling rivers sound thus tun'd her sobs.
"Where is (quoth she) this whilom honoured face?
Where the great glorie and the auncient praise,
In which all worlds felicitie had place,
When gods and men my honour up did raise?
Suffis'd it not that civill warres me made

The whole worlds spoile, but that this hydra new,
Of hundred Hercules to be assaide,

With seven heads, budding monstrous crimes anew, So many Neroes and Caligulaes

Out of these crooked shores must dayly rayse?"

A bird all white, well feathered on each wing,
Hereout up to the throne of gods did flie,
And all the way most pleasant notes did sing,
Whilst in the smoake she unto heaven did stie.
Of this faire fire the scattered rayes forth threw
On everie side a thousand shining beames:
[flames;
When sudden dropping of a silver dew
(0 grievous chance!) gan quench those precious
That it, which earst so pleasant sent did yeld,
Of nothing now but noyous sulphure smeld.

XII.

I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle,
As cleare as christall gainst the sunnie beames,
The bottome yellow, like the golden grayle
That bright Pactolus washeth with his streames;
It seem'd that art and nature had assembled
All pleasure there, for which mans hart could long;
And there a noyse alluring sleepe soft trembled,
Of manie accords more sweete than mermaids song.
The seates and benches shone as yvorie,
And hundred nymphes sate side by side about;
When from nigh hills, with hideous outcrie,

A troupe of Satyres in the place did rout,

Which with their villenie feete the streame did ray Threw down the seats, and drove the nymphes away.

XIII.

Much richer then that vessell seem'd to bee,
Which did to that sad Florentine appeare,
Casting mine eyes farre off, I chaunst to see
Upon the Latine coast herselfe to reare:
But suddenly arose a tempest great,
Bearing close envie to these riches rare,
Which gan

assaile this ship with dreadfull threat, This ship to which none other might compare: And finally the storme impetuous

Sunke up these riches, second unto none,
Within the gulfe of greedie Nereus.

I saw both ship and mariners each one,

And all that treasure, drowned in the maine.
But I the ship saw after raisd againe.

XIV.

Long having deeply gron'd these Visions sad,
I saw a citie like unto that same,
Which saw the messenger of tidings glad;
But that on sand was built the goodly frame:
It seem'd her top the firmament did rayse,
And, no lesse rich than faire, right worthie sure
(If ought here worthie) of immortall dayes,
Or if aught under heaven might firme endure.
Much wondred I to see so faire a wall:
When from the northerne coast a storme arose,
Which, breathing furie from his inward gall
On all which did against his course oppose,
Into a clowde of dust sperst in the aire
The weake foundations of the citie faire.
XV.

At length, even at the time, when Morpheus
Most trulie doth unto our eyes appeare,
Wearie to see the heavens still wavering thus,
I saw Typhoeus sister comming neare;
Whose bead, full bravely with a morion hidd,
Did sceme to match the gods in maiestie.
She, by a rivers banke that swift downe slidd,
Over all the world did raise a trophee hie;
An hundred vanquisht kings under her lay,
With armes bound at their backs in shamefull wize
Whilst I thus mazed was with great affray,

I saw the heavens in warre against her rize :
Then downe she stricken fell with clap of thonder,
That with great noyse I wakte in sudden wonder

ONE day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe,
My spirit shaking off her earthly prison,
Began to enter into meditation deepe

Of things exceeding reach of common reason;
Such as this age, in which all good is geason,
And all that humble is, and meane debaced,
Hath brought forth in her last declining season,
Griefe of good mindes, to see goodnesse disgraced!
On which when as my thought was throghly
placed,

Unto my eyes strange showes presented were,
Picturing that which I in minde embraced,
That yet those sights empassion me full nere

Such as they were (faire ladie!) take in worth, That when time serves may bring things better forth.

II.

In summers day, when Phoebus fairly shone,
I saw a bull as white as driven snowe,
With gilden horaes embowed like the moone,
In a fresh flowring meadow lying lowe:

Up to his eares the verdant grasse did growe,
And the gay floures did offer to be eaten;
But he with fatnes so did overflowe,

That he all wallowed in the weedes downe beaten,
Ne car'd with them his daintie lips to sweeten:
Till that a brize, a scorned little creature,
Through his faire hide his angrie sting did threaten,
And vext so sore, that all his goodly feature

And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased:
So by the small the great is oft diseased.

III.

Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile,
Upon a sunnie banke outstretched lay
In monstrous length, a mightie crocodile,
That cram'd with guiltles blood and greedie pray
Of wretched people travailing that way,
Thought all things lesse than his disdainfull
pride.

I saw a little bird cal'd Tedula,

The least of thousands which on earth abide,
That forst this hideous beast to open wide
The griesly gates of his devouring hell,
And let him feede, as Nature did provide,
Upon his iawes, that with blacke venim swell.
Why then should greatest things the least dis-
daine,

Sith that so small so mightie can constraine?

IV.

The kingly bird, that beares Ioves thunder-clap,
One day did scorne the simple scarabee,
Proud of his highest service, and good hap,
That made all other foules his thralls to bee

The silly flie, that no redresse did see,
Spide where the eagle built his towring nest,
And, kindling fire within the hollow tree,
Burnt up his yong ones, and himselfe distrest;
Ne suffred him in anie place to rest,
But drove in loves owne lap his egs to lay;
Where gathering also filth him to infest,
Forst with the filth his egs to fling away:

For which when as the foule was wroth, said Iove, "Lo! how the least the greatest may reprove."

V.

Toward the sea turning my troubled eye,

I saw the fish (if fish I may it cleepe)
That makes the sea before his face to flye,
And with his flaggie fiones doth seeme to sweepe
The fomie waves out of the dreadfull deep,
The huge leviathan, dame Natures wonder,
Making his sport, that manie makes to weep:
A sword-fish small him from the rest did sunder,
That, in his throat him pricking softly under,
His wide abysse him forced forth to spewe,
That all the sea did roare like heavens thunder,
And all the waves were stain'd with filthie hewe.
Hereby I learned have not to despise
Whatever thing seemes small in common eyes.

VI.

An hideous dragon, dreadfull to behold,
Whose backe was arm'd against the dint of speare
With shields of brasse that shone like burnisht golde,
And forkhed sting that death in it did beare,
Strove with a spider his unequall peare;
And bad defiance to his enemie.

The subtill vermin, creeping closely neare,
Did in his drinke shed poyson privilie;
Which, through his entrailes spredding diversly,
Made him to sweil, that nigh his bowells brust,
And him enforst to yeeld the victorie,
That did so much in his owne greatnesse trust.
O, how great vainnesse is it then to scorne
The weake, that hath the strong so oft forlorne!

VII.

High on a hill a goodly cedar grewe,
Of wondrous length, and streight proportion,
That farre abroad her daintie odours threwe;
Mongst all the daughters of proud Libanon,
Her match in beautie was not anie one.
Shortly within her inmost pith there bred
A little wicked worme, perceiv'd of none,
That on her sap and vital! moy sture fed :
Thenceforth her garland so much honoured
Began to die, (O great ruth for the same!)
And her faire lockes fell from her loftie head,
That shortly balde and bared she became.

1, which this sight beheld, was much dismayed, To see so goodly thing so soone decayed.

Soone after this I saw an elephant,
Adorn'd with bells and bosses gorgeouslie,
That on his backe did beare (as batteilant)
A gilden towre, which shone exceedinglie;
That he himselfe through foolish vanitie,
Both for his rich attire, and goodly forme,
Was puffed up with passing surquedrie,
And shortly gan all other beasts to scorne.
Till that a little ant, a silly worme,
Into his nostrils creeping, so him pained,
That casting downe his towres, he did deforme
Both borrowed pride, and native beautie stained.
Let therefore nought, that great is, therein glorie,
Sith so small thing his happines may varie.

IX.

Looking far foorth into the ocean wide,
A goodly ship with banners bravely dight,
And flag in her top-gallant, I espide
Through the maine sea making her merry flight
Faire blew the winde into her bosome right;
And th' heavens looked lovely all the while;
That she did seeme to daunce, as in delight,
And at her owne felicitie did smile.
All sodainely there clove unto her keele
A little fish, that men call Remora,
Which stopt her course, and held her by the heele,
That winde nor tide could move her thence away.
Straunge thing, me seemeth, that so small a thing
Should able be so great an one to wring.

X.

A mighty lyon, lord of all the wood,
Having his hunger throughly satisfide
With pray of beasts and spoyle of living blood,
Safe in his dreadles den him thought to hide :
His sternesse was his prayse, his strength his pride
And all his glory in his cruell clawes,

XII.

I saw a wasp, that fiercely him defide,
And bad him battaile even to his iawes:
Sore he him stong, that it the blood forth drawee,
And his proude heart is fild with fretting ire ·
In vaine he threats his teeth, his tayle, his pawes
And from his bloodie eyes doth sparkle fire:
That dead himself he wisheth for despight. -
So weakest may anoy the most of might!

ΧΙ.

What time the Romaine empire bore the raine
Of all the world, and florishit most in might,
The nations gan their soveraigntie disdaine,
And cast to quitt them from their bondage quight:
So, when all shrouded were in silent night,
The Galles were, by corrupting of a mayde,
Possest nigh of the Capitol through slight,
Had not a goose the treachery bewrayde;
If then a goose great Rome from ruine stayde
And Iove himselfe, the patron of the place,
Preserved from being to his foes betrayde;
Why do vaine men mean things so much deface,
And in their might repose their most assurance,
Sith nought on earth can chalenge longer furance!

OR,

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE

LADIE COMPTON AND MOUNTEGLE.

MOST faire and vertuous ladie; having often sought opportunitie by some good meanes to make knowen to your ladiship the humble affection and faithfull dutie, which I have alwaies professed, and am bound to beare to that house, from whence yee spring, I have at length found occasion to remember the same, by making a simple present to you of these my idle labours; which having long sithens composed in the raw conceipt of my youth, I lately amongst other papers lighted upon, and was by

others, which liked the same, mooved to set them foorth. Simple is the device, and the composition meane, yet carrieth some delight, even the rather because of the simplicitie and meannesse thus personated. The same I beseech your ladiship take in good part, as a pledge of that profession which I have made to you; and keepe with you untill, with some other more worthie labour, I do redeeme it out of your hands, and discharge my utmost dutie. Till then wishing your ladiship all increase of honour and happinesse, I humblie take leave. Your La: ever humbly;

ED. SP.

5

10

Ir was the month, in which the righteous maide,
That for disdaine of sinfull worlds upbraide
Fled back to heaven, whence she was first conceived,
Into her silver bowre the sunne received;
And the hot Syrian dog on him awayting,
After the chafed lyons cruell bayting,
Corrupted had th' ayre with his noy some breath,
And powr'd on th' earth plague, pestilence, and
Emongst the rest a wicked maladie.
[death.
Raign'd emongst men, that manie did to die,
Depriv'd of sense and ordinarie reason;
That it to leaches seemed strange and geason.
My fortune was, mongst manie others moe,
To be partaker of their common woe;
And my weake bodie, set on fire with griefe,
Was rob'd of rest and naturall reliefe,
In this ill plight, there came to visite mee
Some friends, who, sorie my sad case to see,
Fegan to comfort me in chearfull wise,
And meanes of gladsome solace to devise.

But seeing kindly sleep refuse to doe

His office, and my feeble eyes forgoe,

15

20

25

30

They sought my troubled sense how to deceave
With talke, that might unquiet fancies reave;
And, sitting all in seates about me round,
With pleasant tales (fit for that idle stound)
They cast in course to waste the wearie howres:
Some tolde of ladies, and their paramoures;
Some of brave knights, and their renowned squires;
Some of the faeries and their strange attires;
And some of giaunts, hard to be beleeved;
That the delight thereof me much releeved.
Amongst the rest a good old woman was,
Hight Mother Hubberd, who did farre surpas
The rest in honest mirth, that seem'd her well; 35
She, when her turne was come her tale to tell,
Tolde of a strange adventure, that betided
Betwixt the foxe and th' ape by him misguided
The which for that my sense is greatly pleased,
All were my spirite heavie and diseased,
Ile write in termes, as she the same did say,
So well as I her words remember may.
No muses aide me needes hereto to call;
Base is the style, and matter meane withall.

40