And men themselves do change continually,
From youth to eld, from wealth to poverty,
From good to bad, from bad to worst of all:
Ne doe their bodies only flit and fly,

But eeke their minds (which they immortall call)

Still change and vary thought, as new occasions fall.'

[The Seasons and the Months pass by, and after them the Hours.]

And after these there came the Day and Night,
Riding together both with equall pase,
Th' one on a Palfrey blacke, the other white;
But Night had covered her uncomely face
With a blacke veile, and held in hand a mace,
On top whereof the moon and stars were pight;
And sleep and darknesse round about did trace:
But Day did beare upon his scepters hight
The goodly Sun encompast all with beames bright.

Then came the Howres, faire daughters of high Jove And timely Night; the which were all endewed With wondrous beauty fit to kindle love; But they were virgins all, and love eschewed That might forslack the charge to them foreshewed By mighty Jove; who did them porters make Of heavens gate (whence all the gods issued) Which they did daily watch, and nightly wake By even turnes, ne ever did their charge forsake.

And after all came Life, and lastly Death;
Death with most grim and griesly visage seene,
Yet is he nought but parting of the breath;
Ne ought to see, but like a shade to weene,
Unbodied, unsoul'd, unheard, unseene:
But Life was like a faire young lusty boy,

Such as they faine Dan Cupid to have beene,

Full of delightfull health and lively joy,

Deckt all with flowres, and wings of gold fit to employ.

When these were past, thus gan the Titanesse : 'Lo! mighty mother, now be judge, and say Whether in all thy creatures more or lesse

CHANGE deth not raign and bear the greatest sway;
For who sees not that Time on all doth pray?
But Times do change and move continually:
So nothing heere long standeth in one stay:
Wherefore this lower world who can deny
But to be subject still to Mutability?'

*

Then, since within this wide great Universe
Nothing doth firme and permanent appeare,
But all things tost and turned by transverse,
What then should let, but I aloft should reare
My Trophee, and from all the triumph beare?
Now judge then, (0 thou greatest goddesse trew)
According as thy selfe doest see and heare,
And unto me addoom that is my dew;
That is, the rule of all, all being rul'd by you.'

So having ended, silence long ensewed;

Ne Nature to or fro spake for a space,

But with firme eyes affixt the ground still viewed.
Meane-while all creatures, looking in her face,
Expecting th' end of this so doubtfull case,
Did hang in long suspence what would ensew,
To whether side should fall the soveraine place:
At length she, looking up with chearefull view,
The silence brake, and gave her doome in speeches few.

'I well consider all that ye have said,

And find that all things stedfastnesse do hate
And changed be; yet, being rightly wayd,
They are not changed from their first estate ;
But by their change their being do dilate,
And turning to themselves at length againe,
Do worke their owne perfection so by fate :
Then over them Change doth not rule and raigne,

But they raigne over Change, and do their states maintaine

'Cease therefore, daughter, further to aspire, And thee content thus to be rul'd by mee,

For thy decay thou seekst by thy desire;

But time shall come that all shall changed bee,
And from thenceforth none no more change shal sce
So was the Titanesse put downe and whist,
And Jove confirm'd in his imperiall see.
Then was that whole assembly quite dismist,
And Natur's selfe did vanish, whither no man wist.

[Fragment of the last Canto.]

When I bethinke me on that speech whyleare
Of Mutabilitie, and well it way!

Me seemes, that though she all unworthy were
Of the Heav'ns Rule: yet, very sooth to say,
In all things else she beares the greatest sway:
Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle,
And love of things so vaine to cast away;
Whose flowring pride, so fading and so fickle,

Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming sickle.

Then gin I thinke on that which Nature sayd,
Of that same time when no more Change shall be,
But stedfast rest of all things, firmely stayd

Upon the pillours of Eternity,

That is contrayr to Mutabilitie;

For all that moveth doth in Change delight:

But thence-forth all shall rest eternally

With Him that is the God of Sabaoth hight:

O that great Sabaoth God, grant me that Sabaoths sight!

COMPLAINT OF THALIA (COMEDY).

[From The Teares of the Muses (1591).]

Where be the sweete delights of learnings treasure
That wont with Comick sock to beautefie
The painted Theaters, and fill with pleasure
The listners eyes and eares with melodie;
In which I late was wont to raine as Queene,
And maske in mirth with Graces well beseene?

O all is gone; and all that goodly glee,
Which wont to be the glorie of gay wits,
Is layd abed, and no where now to see;
And in her roome unseemly Sorrow sits,
With hollow browes and greisly countenaunce,
Marring my joyous gentle dalliaunce.

And him beside sits ugly Barbarisme,

And brutish Ignorance, ycrept of late

Out of dredd darknes of the deepe Abysme,

Where being bredd, he light and heaven does hate: They in the mindes of men now tyrannize,

And the faire Scene with rudenes foule disguize.

All places they with follie have possest,
And with vaine toyes the vulgare entertaine;
But me have banished, with all the rest
That whilome wont to wait upon my traine,
Fine Counterfesaunce, and unhurtfull Sport,
Delight, and Laughter, deckt in seemly sort.

All these, and all that els the Comick Stage
With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced,
By which mans life in his likest image

Was limned forth, are wholly now defaced;
And those swete wits, which wont the like to frame,
Are now despizd, and made a laughing game.

And he, the man whom Nature selfe had made
To mock her selfe, and Truth to imitate,
With kindly counter under Mimick shade,
Our pleasant Willy, ah! is dead of late:
With whom all joy and jolly meriment
Is also deaded, and in dolour drent.

In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie,
And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept,
Rolling in rymes of shameles ribaudrie
Without regard, or due Decorum kept;
Each idle wit at will presumes to make,
And doth the Learneds taske upon him take.

But that same gentle Spirit, from whose pen
Large streames of honnie and sweete Nectar flowe,
Scorning the boldnes of such base-borne men,
Which dare their follies forth so rashlie throwe,

Doth rather choose to sit in idle Cell,
Than so himselfe to mockerie to sell.

So am I made the servant of the manie,

And laughing stocke of all that list to scorne;
Not honored nor cared for of anie,

But loath'd of losels as a thing forlorne :
Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest,
Untill my cause of sorrow be redrest.

SONNETS.
[1595-]

Lyke as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde,
By conduct of some star, doth make her way;
Whenas a storme hath dimd her trusty guyde,
Out of her course doth wander far astray!
So I, whose star, that wont with her bright ray
Me to direct, with cloudes is over-cast,
Doe wander now, in darknesse and dismay,
Through hidden perils round about me plast;