So ended she; and all the rest around
To her redoubled that her undersong,
Which said their bridal day should not be long:
And gentle Echo from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.

So forth those joyous birds did pass along
Adown the Lee that to them murmur'd low,
As he would speak but that he lack'd a tongue;
Yet did by signs his glad affection show,
Making his stream run slow.

121

And all the fowl which in his flood did dwell
'Gan flock about these twain, that did excel
The rest, so far as Cynthia doth shend5
The lesser stars. So they, enrangéd well,
Did on those two attend,

And their best service lend

Against their wedding day, which was not long!
Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song.

At length they all to merry London came,
To merry London, my most kindly nurse,
That to me gave this life's first native source,
Though from another place I take my name, 130
An house of ancient fame:

There when she came whereas those bricky towers

The which on Thames' broad agéd back do ride, Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,

There whilome wont the Templar-knights to bide,

Till they decay'd through pride;
Next whereunto there stands a stately place,
Where oft I gainéd gifts and goodly grace
Of that great lord, which therein wont to

case;

141

But ah! here fits not well
Old woes, but joys to tell
Against the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song.

Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer,s Great England's glory and the world's wide wonder,

Whose dreadful name late through all Spain did thunder,

And Hercules' two pillars standing near
Did make to quake and fear:

Fair branch of honour, flower of chivalry! 150
That fillest England with thy triumphs' fame
Joy have thou of thy noble victory,

And endless happiness of thine own name10
That promiseth the same;

That through thy prowess and victorious arms
Thy country may be freed from foreign harms,
And great Elisa's glorious name may ring
Through all the world, fill'd with thy wide

170

Above the rest were goodly to be seen
Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature,
Beseeming well the bower of any queen,
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,
Fit for so goodly stature,

That like the twins of Jovell they seem'd in sight

Which deck the baldric of the Heavens bright;
They two, forth pacing to the river's side,
Received those two fair brides, their love's
delight;

Which, at th' appointed tide,
Each one did make his bride

Against their bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song.

tresses

tion's stay2;

She doth attire under a net of gold,
And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses
That which is gold or hair may scarce be told?
Is it that men's frail eyes, which gaze too bold,
She may entangle in that golden snare,
And, being caught, may craftily enfold
Their weaker hearts, which are not well aware?
Take heed, therefore, mine eyes, how ye do stare
Henceforth too rashly on that guileful net,
In which if ever ye entrappéd are,
Out of her bands ye by no means shall get.
Fondness it were for any, being free,
To covet fetters, though they golden be!

AMORETTI LXI.

The glorious image of the Maker's beauty,
My sovereign saint, the idol of my thought,
Dare not henceforth, above the bounds of duty,
T'accuse of pride, or rashly blame for ought.

For being, as she is, divinely wrought,
And of the brood of angels heavenly born,
And with the crew of blessed saints upbrought,

Each of which did her with their gifts adorn-
The bud of joy, the blossom of the morn,

The beam of light, whom mortal eyes admire;

What reason is it then but she should scorn

1 folly

* Sonnet groups or sequences were a marked feature of Elizabethan verse. The Amoretti

are a series of eighty-eight, recording Spenser's courtship of Elizabeth Boyle, his marriage to

Thus, great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,

Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite; Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart

and write.

ASTROPHEL AND STELLA XXXI.

With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies!

How silently, and with how wan a face!
What, may it be that e'en in heavenly place
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries!
Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace,
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries.

Then, e'en of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,
Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit?

Are beauties there as proud as here they be?
Do they above love to be loved, and yet
Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?

Do they call virtue, there, ungratefulness

SAMUEL DANIEL (1562-1619)
TO DELIA LI.

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,

† See last note. "After Shakespeare's sonnets, Sidney's Astrophel and stella offers the most intense and powerful picture of the passion of love in the whole range of our poetry."-F. Т. Palgrave.

Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow:
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

MICHAEL DRAYTON (1563-1631)
IDEA LXI.

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part,

Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.

SONNET Xxx.

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's

waste;

Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow, For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,

And weep afresh love's long-since-cancell'd woe, And moan the expense of many a vanished sight.

Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoanéd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before:
-But if the while I think on thee, dear

Friend,

All losses are restored, and sorrows end.

SONNET LXIV.

Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,

When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,

And innocence is closing up his eyes,

When I have seen by Time's fell hand defaced
The rich proud cost of out-worn buried age;
When sometime lofty towers I see down-razed,
And brass eternal slave to mortal rage;
When I have seen the hungry ocean gain

And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state,

him over,

From death to life thou might'st him yet recover!

Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate-
That Time will come and take my Love away:
-This thought is as a death, which cannot

choose

And look upon myself, and curse my fate;
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possest,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee; and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's
gate;

For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

SONNET LXV.

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless

sea,

But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wreckful siege of battering days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout
Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?
O fearful meditation! where, alack!

Shall Time's best jewels from Time's chest lie hid?

Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back, Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?

O! none, unless this miracle have might, That in black ink my love may still shine

But be contented: when that fell arrest
Without all baile shall carry me away,
My life hath in this line some interest,
Which for memorial still with thee shall stay.
When thou reviewest this, thou dost review.
The very part was consecrate to thee:
The earth can have but earth, which is his due;
My spirit is thine, the better part of me:
So then thou hast but lost the dregs of life,
The prey of worms, my body being dead,
The coward conquest of a wretch's knife,
Too base of thee to be remembered.

The worth of that is that which it contains,
And that is this, and this with thee remains.

ELIZABETHAN LYRICS

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586)

ASTROPHEL AND STELLA, FIRST SONG

Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast surcharged to music

lendeth?

To you, to you, all song of praise is due, Only in you my song begins and endeth.

To you, to you, all song of praise is due, Only through you the tree of life doth flourish.

Who hath the hand which without stroke subdueth?

Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth? To you, to you, all song of praise is due, Only at you all envy hopeless rueth.3

24

Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?

Who keeps the keys of Nature's chiefest treasure?

Fair and fair, and twice so fair, As fair as any may be,

The fairest shepherd on our green, A love for any lady.

Paris

Fair and fair, and twice so fair, As fair as any may be;

Thy love is fair for thee alone, And for no other lady.

Enone

My love is fair, my love is gay,
And fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my love my roundelay,
My merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid's curse,-

"They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!"

Ambo Simul5

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!

Enone

Fair and fair, and twice so fair,

As fair as any may be,

The fairest shepherd on our green,

A love for any lady.

Paris

Fair and fair, and twice so fair,

As fair as any may be;

Thy love is fair for thee alone,

And for no other lady.

Enone

My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry roundelay.

Amen to Cupid's curse,一 "They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!"

Paris

They that do change old love for new, Pray gods they change for worse!

Ambo Simul

Fair and fair, and twice so fair,
As fair as any may be;
Thy love is fair for thee alone,
And for no other lady.

THOMAS LODGE (15588-1625)

ROSALIND'S MADRIGAL

Love in my bosom, like a bee,

Doth suck his sweet;

Now with his wings he plays with me,

Within mine eyes he makes his nest,
His bed amidst my tender breast;
My kisses are his daily feast,
And yet he robs me of my rest:
Ah! wanton, will ye?

And if I sleep, then percheth he
With pretty flight,
And makes his pillow of my knee
The livelong night.

Strike I my lute, he tunes the string;
He music plays if so I sing;
He lends me every lovely thing,
Yet cruel he my heart doth sting.

Whist, wanton, still ye!

Else I with roses every day

Will whip you hence,

And bind you, when you long to play,
For your offense;

9

13

I'll shut my eyes to keep you in;
I'll make you fast it for your sin;
I'll count your power not worth a pin;

-Alas! what hereby shall I win,

If he gainsay me?

What if I beat the wanton boy
With many a rod?

He will repay me with annoy,
Because a god.

Then sit thou safely on my knee,
And let thy bower my bosom be;
Lurk in mine eyes, I like of thee;
O Cupid, so thou pity me,

Spare not, but play thee!

As tho' His floods should quench His flames
Which with His tears were fed.
"Alas!" quoth He, but newly born
In fiery heats I fry,

Yet none approach to warm their hearts

Or feel my fire but I!

My faultless breast the furnace i.,

The fuel, wounding thorns;