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[From the First Part.)

SONNET.
SONNET.

Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my In my first years, and prime yet not at pains, height,

Sweet are my wounds, although they When sweet conceits my wits did entertain, deeply smart, Ere beauty's force I knew, or false delight, My bit is gold, though shortened be the Or to what oar she did her captives chain, reins, Led by a sacred troop of Phoebus' train, My bondage brave, though I may not I first began to read, then lov'd to write, depart : And so to praise a perfect red and white, Although I burn, the fire which doth imBut, God wot, wist not what was in my part brain :

Those flames, so sweet reviving force Love smil'd to see in what an awful guise contains, I turn'd those antiques of the age of gold, That, like Arabia's bird, my wasted heart, And, that I might more mysteries behold, Made quick by death, more lively still He set so fair a volume to mine eyes,

remains. That I (quires clos'd which dead, dead | I joy, though oft my waking eyes spend sighs but breath)

tears, Joy on this living book to read my death. I never want delight, even when I groan,

Best companied when most I am alone ;

A heaven of hopes I have midst hells of SONNET

fears, I know that all beneath the moon decays, Thus every way contentment strange I And what by mortals in this world is

find, brought,

But most in her rare beauty, my rare In Time's great periods shall return to

mind. nought; That fairest states have fatal nights and

SONNET days ; I know how all the Muse's heavenly lays, How that vast heaven intitled First is With toil of spright which are so dearly roll'd, bought,

If any other worlds beyond it lie, As idle sounds, of few or none are sought, And people living in eternity, And that nought lighter is than airy praise; Or essence pure that doth this all uphold; I know frail beauty's like the purple flower, What motion have those fired sparks of To which one morn oft birth and death gold, affords ;

The wand'ring carbuncles which shine That love a jarring is of minds' accords, from high, Where sense and will invassal reason's By sprights, or bodies, contrariwise in sky power :

If they be turn'd, and mortal things behold; Know what I list, this all can not me How sun posts heaven about, how night's move,

pale queen But that, О me! I both must write and with borrowed beams looks on this hanglove.

ing round,

seen

clear ;

What cause fair Iris hath, and monsters Her either cheek resemblid a blushing

morn, In air's large fields of light, and seas pro- Or roses gules in field of lilies borne, found,

Betwixt the which a wall so fair is raised, Did hold my wand'ring thoughts, when That it is but abased even when praised ; thy sweet eye

Her lips like rows of coral soft did swell, Bade me leave all, and only think on thee. And th' one like th' other only doth excel :

The Tyrian fish looks pale, pale look the

roses, SONNET

The rubies pale, when mouth's sweet That learned Grecian, who did so excel

cherry closes. In knowledge passing sense, that he is Her chin like silver Phoebe did appear nam'd

Dark in the midst to make the rest more Of all the after-worlds divine, doth tell, That at the time when first our souls are

Her neck seemed fram'd by curious

Phidias' master, fram'd, Ere in these mansions blind they come to

Most smooth, most white, a piece of aladwell,

baster. They live bright rays of that eternal light, Two foaming billows flow'd upon her And others see, know, love, in heaven's

breast, great height,

Which did their tops with coral red enNot toild with aught to reason doth rebel.

crest; Most true it is, for straight at the first sight There all about, as brooks them sport at My mind me told, that in some other place

leisure, It elsewhere saw the idea of that face,

With circling branches veins did swell in And lov'd a love of heavenly pure delight; No wonder now I feel so fair a flame,

Within those crooks are only found those Sith I her lov'dere on this earth she came.

isles Which Fortunate the dreaming old world

styles, SONG.

The rest the streams did hide, but as a lily

Sunk in a crystal's fair transparent belly Her hair, more bright than are the I, who yet human weakness did not know, morning's beams,

For yet I had not felt that archer's bow, Hang in a golden shower above the streams, Nor could I think that from the coldest And, sweetly tous'd, her forehead sought water to cover,

The winged youngling burning flames Which seen did straight a sky of milk dis- could scatter, cover,

On every part my vagabonding sight With two fair brows, love's bows, which Did cast, and drown mine eyes in sweet never bend,

delight. But that a golden arrow forth they send ; What wondrous thing is this that beauty's Beneath the which two burning planets named? glancing,

Said I ; I find I heretofore have dreamed, Flash'd flames of love, for love there still And never known in all my flying days is dancing.

Good unto this, that only merits praise.

azure:

My pleasures have been pains, my com- A lady sat miraculously fair, forts crosses,

Whose pensive countenance, and looks of My treasures poverty, my gains but losses. honour, O precious sight! which none doth else Do more allure the mind that thinketh on descry,

her, Except the burning sun, and quivering I.

Than the most wanton face and amorous And yet, О dear-bought sight! O would eyes, for ever

That Amathus or flowr'y Paphos sees. I might enjoy you, or had joy'd you never! A crew of virgins made a ring about her, O happy flood ! if so ye might abide,

The diamond she, they seem the gold Yet ever glory of this moment's pride,

without her. Adjure your rillets all now to behold her, Such Thetis is, when to the billows' roar And in their crystal arms to come and

With mermaids nice she danceth on the fold her ;

shore : And sith ye may not aye your bliss embrace,

So in a sable night the sun's bright sister Draw thousand portraits of her on your Among the lesser twinkling lights doth face,

glister. Portraits which in my heart be more

Fair yokes of ermelines, whose colour pass

The whitest snows on agèd Grampius' face, apparent, If like to yours my breast but were tran

More swift than Venus' birds this chariot

guided sparent. O that I were, while she doth in

To the astonish'd bank whereat it bided :

you play, A dolphin to transport her to the sea,

But long it did not bide, when pour those To none of all those gods I would her streams render,

Ay me! it made, transporting these rich From Thule to Ind though I should with

gems, her wander.

And by that burthen lighter, swiftly drived Oh ! what is this? the more I fix mine eye,

Till, as me thought, it at a tower arrived. Mine

eye

the more new wonders doth espy; The more I spy, the more in uncouth

SONNET. fashion

O sacred blush, impurpling cheeks' pure My soul is ravish'd in a pleasant passion. skies But look not, eyes : as more I would have

With crimson wings which spread thee said,

like the morn ; A sound of whirling wheels meall dismay'd, bashful look, sent from those shining And with the sound forth from the

eyes, timorous bushes,

Which, though cast down on earth, With storm-like course, a sumptuous couldst heaven adorn; chariot rushes:

O tongue, in which most luscious nectar A chariot all of gold, the wheels were gold, lies, The nails and axle gold on which it roll'd; | That can at once both bless and make The upmost part a scarlet veil did cover,

forlorn ; More rich than Danaë's lap spread with Dear coral lip, which beauty beautifies, her lover :

That trembling stood ere that her words in midst of it, in a triumphing chair,

were born,

And you her words, words ! no, but golden Earth's silent daughter, night, is fair, chains,

though brown ; Which did captive mine ears, ensnare my Fair is the moon though in love's livery soul,

cled; Wise image of her mind, mind that contains Fair Chloris is when she doth paint A power, all power of senses to control; Aprile,

Ye all from love dissuade so sweetly me, Fair are the meads, the woods, the floods That I love more, if more my love could are fair ; be.

Fair looketh Ceres with her yellow hair,

And apples' queen when rose-cheek'd she SONNET.

doth smile.

That heaven, and earth, and seas are If crost with all mishaps be my poor life, fair is true, If one short day I never spent in mirth,

Yet true that all not please so much as Ifmy spright with itself holds lasting strife,

you. If sorrow's death is but new sorrow's birth; If this vain world but be a sable stage

MADRIGAL. Where slave-born man plays to the scoffing stars ;

When as she smiles I find If youth be toss'd with love, with weak- More light before mine eyes, ness age,

Nor when the sun from Ind If knowledge serve to hold our thoughts Brings to our world a flow'ry Paradise : in wars ;

But when she gently weeps, If time can close the hundred mouths of And pours forth pearly showers, . fame,

On cheeks' fair blushing flowers, And make, what long since past, like that

A sweet melancholy my senses keeps. to be ;

Both feed so my disease, If virtue only be an idle name,

So much both do me please, If I, when I was born, was born to die;

That oft I doubt, which more my heart Why seek I to prolong these loathsome

doth burn, days?

Like love to see her smile, or pity mourn. The fairest rose in shortest time decays.

(From the Second Part.] SONNET.

SONG The sun is fair when he with crimson crown,

Leave then laments, and think thou didst And flaming rubies, leaves his eastern bed; not live, Fair is Thaumantius in her crystal gown,

Laws to that first eternal cause to give, When oudsengemm'd hang azure, green, But to obey those laws which he hath given, and red :

And bow unto the just decrees of Heaven, To western worlds when wearied day Which can not err, whatever foggy mists goes down,

Do blind men in these sublunary lists. And from Heaven's windows each star But what if she for whom thou spend'st shows her head,

those groans,

fair;

And wastest life's dear torch in ruthful It hath an earth, as hath this world of moans,

yours, She for whose sake thou hat'st the joyful With creatures peopled, stor'd with trees light,

and flow'rs ; Court'st solitary shades, and irksome It hath a sea, like sapphire girdle cast, night,

Which decketh of harmonious shores the Doth live? O! if thou canst, through waste : tears, a space

It hath pure fire, it hath delicious air, Lift thy dimm'd lights, and look upon Moon, sun and stars, heavens wonderfully this face,

fair : Look if those eyes which, fool, thou didst But there flow'rs do not fade, trees grow adore,

not old, Shine not more bright than they were The creatures do not die through heat wont before ;

nor cold ; Look if those roses death could aught Sea there not tossèd is, nor air made black, impair,

Fire doth not nurse itself on others' wrack; Those roses to thee once which seem'd so There heavens be not constrain'd about to

range, And if those locks have lost aught of that For this world hath no need of any change; gold,

The minutes grow not hours, hours rise Which erst they had when thou them didst not days, behold.

Days make no months but ever-blooming I live, and happy live, but thou art dead, Mays. And still shalt be, till thou be like me made, Here I remain, but hitherward do tend Alas! while we are wrapt in gowns of earth. All who their span of days in virtue spend: And blind, here suck the air of woe be- Whatever pleasure this low place conneath,

tains, Each thing in sense's balances we weigh, It is a glance but of what high remains. And but with toil and pain the truth descry. Those who, perchance, think there can

Above this vast and admirable frame, nothing be This temple visible, which world we name, Without this wide expansion which they Within those walls so many lamps do burn, see, So many arches opposite do turn, And that nought else mounts stars' cirWhere elemental brethren nurse their cumference, strife,

For that nought else is subject to their And by intestine wars maintain their life, sense, There is a world, a world of perfect bliss, Feel such a case, as one whom some abysm Pure, immaterial, bright, more far from Of the deep ocean kept had all his time; this

Who born and nourish'd there, can Than that high circle, which the rest en- scarcely dream spheres,

That aught can live without that briny Is from this dull ignoble vale of tears ;

stream; A world, where all is found, that here is Cannot believe that there be temples, found,

towers, But further discrepant than heaven and That go beyond his caves and dampish ground.

bowers,

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