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assures him that he shall not "lose possession of that fair Thou owest" (he will never separate him from Truth and Beauty in his works). They shall be immortal "when in eternal lines to time Thou growest" (when those works founded upon Truth, and decorated with Beauty, shall be produced and appreciated). They will live while men live and (have the ability) "can see" to read them, and this poem will give life sooner or later to "Thee" (Thought), their author.

SONNET 19.

Devouring Time, blunt Thou the lion's paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood;
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger's jaws,
And burn the long-liv'd phoenix in her blood;
Make glad and sorry seasons as Thou fleets,
And do whate'er Thou wilt, swift-footed Time,
To the wide world, and all her fading sweets;
But I forbid Thee one most heinous crime:

O, carve not with Thy hours My Love's fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with Thine antique pen;
Him in Thy course untainted do allow,

For Beauty's pattern to succeeding men.

Yet, do Thy worst, old Time; despite Thy wrong,
My Love shall in my verse ever live young.

The devastations wrought by Time upon animate and inanimate nature are graphically depicted in this stanza, for the purpose of showing by contrast the indestructibility of the works he has in contemplation. While Time brings an end to the fiercest and strongest animals, and "devours" the earth's "sweet brood" (human beings),

it spares the records of genius,—and as they are spared, so will "My Love's fair brow" (these works of his) be spared to be "Beauty's pattern to succeeding men" (to be admired and imitated throughout all ages). Let Time "do its worst" (let them be overlooked or neglected). "Despite Thy wrong" nothing can deprive "My Love” (his dramas) of immortal youth and life.

SONNET 20.

A woman's face, with Nature's own hand painted,
Hast Thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;

A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,

Which steals men's eyes, and women's souls amazeth.

And for a woman wert Thou first created;

Till Nature, as she wrought Thee, fell a-doting,
And by addition me of Thee defeated,

By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

But since she prick'd Thee out for women's pleasure,
Mine be Thy love, and Thy love's use their treasure.

"A wo

This stanza describes Thou (Truth). man's face" (the attractiveness of Truth has all the charm and sweetness that is depicted in the female countenance), "by Nature's own hand painted" (undisguised by art and external ornament), "hast Thou, the master-mistress of my passion" (Truth, partaking of all the good qualities of both man and woman, forms the great subject he intends to delineate in his works). “A

woman's gentle heart" (Truth, like a lovely woman, reflects nothing that is wrong or wicked, but unlike a woman, never changes). Its "eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling" (is observant of all things, and never deceived or deceiving). "Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth" (enriching every subject it investigates). "A man in hue, all hues in his controlling" (resembling man in influence and achievements). "Which steals men's eyes, and women's souls amazeth" (commanding the observations of men and the wonder of women). "And for a woman wert Thou first created" (the eyes of the woman, after partaking of the forbidden fruit, were first opened to a knowledge of good and evil, and Truth, as the creation of that moment, was first beheld by her), but "Nature as she wrought Thee fell a-doting, and by addition me of Thee defeated" (man was added to woman in the same crime, and thus lost his truth at the moment he discovered it). "But since she prick'd Thee out for women's pleasure" (the pleasure of eating the fruit by the woman gave Truth its development), "Mine be Thy love, and Thy love's use their treasure" (his thoughts will be true, and that Truth shall give them immortality).

SONNET 21.

So is it not with me as with that Muse,
Stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven itself for ornament doth use,
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse;

Making a couplement of proud compare,

With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O, let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then believe me, My Love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air:

Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise, that purpose not to sell.

The poet in this stanza declares that his purpose is to write the truth. He will not imitate a contemporary pen, who is "stirr'd by a painted beauty to his verse" (chosen some subject that is out of the range of nature), and who uses all things in heaven and earth for his ornaments, showing by comparison how much the sun, moon, sea, and first flowers of spring are excelled by this subject of his verse. If the poet succeeds in drawing his characters true to life, then "My Love is as fair as any mother's child" (his dramas will be as attractive and beautiful as the symbolic child, their prototype in the first seventeen stanzas). The motive which governs him in writing is to benefit his age by delineating truth, and not to manufacture some ephemeral effusions to please the taste of the time. It is impossible at this distance of time to designate with certainty any single writer of Elizabeth's time, as the one alluded to by the poet. Many of the characters in the "Fairie Queen" would seem to indicate it might have been Spenser. His Red Cross Knight personated

Holiness; his Sir Guyon, Temperance; his Britomartis, Chastity;—while of his earthly characters "Gloriana and Belphoebe were both symbolical of Queen Elizabeth," and the character of "Envy is intended to glance at the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots." Chambers says:

"His inexhaustible powers of circumstantial description betrayed him into a tedious minuteness, which sometimes in the delineation of his personified passion becomes repulsive, and in the painting of natural objects led him to group together trees and plants, and assemble sounds and instruments which were never seen or heard in unison outside of fairy land. . . . . We surrender ourselves up for a time to the power of the enchanter, and witness with wonder and delight his marvellous achievements, but we wish to return. again to the world, and to mingle with our fellowmortals in its busy and passionate pursuits. It is here that Shakespeare eclipses Spenser; here that he builds upon his beautiful groundwork of fancy, the high and durable structure of conscious dramatic truth and living reality."

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SONNET 22.

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and Thou are of one date;
But when in Thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover Thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in Thy breast doth live, as Thine in me:
How can I, then, be elder than Thou art?

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