The Mirrhe sweete-bleeding in the bitter wound,
The warlike Beech, the Ash for nothing ill,
The fruitful Olive, and the Platane round,
The carver Holme, the Maple seldom inward sound.
Led with delight, they thus beguile the way,
Untill the blustering storme is overblowne;
When, weening to returne, whence they did stray, thinking
They cannot find that path, which first was showne,
But wander too and fro in waies unknowne,
Furthest from end then, when they neerest weene,
That makes them doubt their wits be not their own;
So many pathes, so many turnings seene,
That which of them to take in diverse doubt they been.
UNA AND THE LION.
ONE day, nigh wearie of the yrksome way,
From her unhastie beast she did alight;
And on the grasse her dainty limbs did lay
In secrete shadow, far from all men's sight;
From her fayre head her fillet she undight,
And layd her stole aside: her angel's face,
As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place:
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.
It fortunéd, out of the thickest wood
A ramping lyon rushéd suddeinly,
Hunting full greedy after salvage blood;
Soone as the royall virgin he did spy,
With gaping mouth at her ran greedily,
To have attonce devourd her tender corse :
But to the pray when as he drew more ny,
His bloody rage aswagéd, with remorse,
And, with the sight amazed, forgat his furious forse.
Instead thereof he kist her weary feet,
And lickt her lily hands with fawning tong;
As he her wronged innocence did weet.
O how can beautie maister the most strong,
And simple truth subdue avenging wrong!
Whose yielded pride and proud submission,
Still dreading death, when she had markéd long,
Her heart gan melt in great compassion;
And drizling teares did shed for pure affection.
"The lyon, lord of everie beast in field,"
Quoth she, "his princely puissance doth abate,
And mightie proud to humble weake does yield,
Forgetfull of the hungry rage, which late
Him prickt, in pittie of my sad estate :-
But he, my lyon, and my noble lord,
How does he find in cruell hart to hate
Her, that him loved, and ever most adord
As the god of my life? why hath he me abhord ?"
Redounding tears did choke th' end of her plaint,
Which softly ecchoed from the neighbour wood;
And, sad to see her sorrowful constraint,
The kingly beast upon her gazing stood;
With pittie calmd, downe fell his angry mood.
At last, in close hart shutting up her payne,
Arose the virgin borne of heavenly brood,
And to her snowy palfrey got agayne,
To seeke her strayéd champion if she might attayne. The lyon would not leave her desolate,
But with her went along, as a strong gard Of her chast person, and a faythfull mate Of her sad troubles and misfortunes hard: Still, when she slept, he kept both watch and ward; And when she wakt, he wayted diligent, With humble service to her will prepard; From her fayre eyes he took commandément, And ever by her lookes conceived her intent.
THE MINISTRY OF ANGELS.
And is there care in heaven? And is there love
In heavenly spirits to these creatures base,
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is :-else much more wretched were the case
Of men then beasts: but O the exceeding grace
Of Highest God! that loves his creatures so,
And all his workes with mercy doth embrace,
That blessed angels he sends to and fro,
To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe!
How oft do they their silver bowers leave,
To come to succour us that succour want!
How oft do they with goldon pinions cleave
The flitting skyes, like flying pursuivant,
Against fowle feendes to ayd us militant!
They for us fight, they watch, and dewly ward,
And their bright squadrons round about us plant;
And all for love, and nothing for reward;
O why should hevenly God to men have such regard !
THE BOWER OF BLISS.
THERE the most daintie paradise on ground
Itselfe doth offer to his sober eye,
In which all pleasures plenteously abownd,
And none does others happinesse envye;
The painted flowers; the trees upshooting hye;
The dales for shade; the hilles for breathing space;
The trembling groves; the christall running by;
And, that which all faire works doth most aggrace,
The art, which all that wrought, appeared in no place.
One would have thought (so cunningly the rude
And scornéd parts were mingled with the fine,)
That Nature had for wantonesse ensude
Art, and that Art at Nature did repine;
So striving each the other to undermine,
Each did the others worke more beautify
So differing both in wills, agreed in fine:
So all agreed, through sweete diversity,
This gardin to adorne with all variety.
And in the midst of all a fountaine stood,
Of richest substance that on earth might bee,
So pure and shiny, that the silver flood
Through every channell running one might see;
Most goodly it with curious ymageree
Was overwrought, and shapes of naked boys,
Of which some seemed with lively iollitee
To fly about, playing their wanton toyes,
Whylest others did themselves embay in liquid ioyes. bathe
And over all, of purest gold, was spred
A trayle of yvie in his native hew;
For the rich metall was so colouréd,
That wight, who did not well avised it vew,
Would surely deeme it to bee yvie trew:
Low his lascivious armes adown did creepe,
That themselves dipping in the silver dew,
Their fleecy flowres they fearefully did steepe,
Which drops of christall seemed for wantones to weep.
Infinit streames continually did well
Out of this fountain, sweete and faire to see,
The which into an ample laver fell,
And shortly grew to so great quantitie
That like a little lake it seemd to bee;
Whose depth exceeded not three cubits hight, That through the waves one might the bottom see, All pavd beneath with jaspar shining bright, That seemd the fountaine in that sea did sayle upright. Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound Of all that mote delight a daintie ear, Such as attonce might not on living ground, Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere: Right hard it was for wight which did it heare To read what manner musicke that mote bee; For all that pleasing is to living eare, Was there consorted in one harmonee; Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree: The ioyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade, Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet; The angelical soft trembling voyces made To the instruments divine respondence meet; The silver-sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall: The waters fall, with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call : The gentle warbling wind low answered to all.
ON HEAVENLY LOVE.
LOVE, lift me up upon thy golden wings
From this base world unto thy Heaven's hight,
Where I may see those admirable things
Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might,
Farre above feeble reach of earthly sight,
That I thereof an heavenly hymne may sing
Unto the God of Love, high Heaven's King.
BEFORE THIS WORLD'S GREAT FRAME, in which all things
Are now containd, found any being place,
Ere flitting Time could wag his eyas wings
About that mightie bound which doth embrace
The rolling spheres, and parts there houres by space,
That high Eternall Powre, which now doth move
In all these things, moved in it selfe by love.
It loved it selfe, because it selfe was faire
(For fair is loved); and of itself begot
Like to it selfe his eldest Sonne and Heire,
Eternall, pure, and voide of sinfull blot,
The firstling of his ioy, in whom no iot
Of love's dislike or pride was to be found,
Whom he therefore with equal honour crownd.
With him he raigned, before all time prescribed,
In endlesse glorie and immortall might,
Together with that Third from them derived,
Most wise, most holy, most almightie Spright!
Whose kingdomes throne no thoughts of earthly wight
Can comprehend, much lesse my trembling verse
With equall words can hope it to reherse.
Yet being pregnant still with powrefull grace,
And full of fruitfull Love, that Loves to get
Things like himselfe, and to enlarge his race,
His second brood, though not of powre so great,
Yet full of beautie, next he did beget,
An infinite increase of angels bright,
All glistring glorious in their Maker's light.
To them the Heaven's illimitable hight,
(Not this round Heaven, which we from hence behold,
Adornd with thousand lamps of burning light,
And with ten thousand gemmes of shyning gold,)
He gave as their inheritance to hold,
That they might serve him in eternal bliss,
And be partakers of those ioyes of his.
There they in their trinall triplicities
About him wait, and on his will depend,
Either with nimble wings to cut the skies,
When he them on his messages doth send,
Or on his owne dread presence to attend,
Where they behold the glorie of his light,
And caroll hymnes of love both day and night.
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