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Great joy was made that day of young and old,

And solemne feast proclaimd throughout the land,

That their exceeding merth may not be told:
Suffice it heare by signes to understand
The usuall joyes at knitting of loves band.
Thrise happy man the knight himselfe did
hold,

Possessed of his Ladies hart and hand,
And ever, when his eye did her behold,
His heart did seeme to melt in pleasures
manifold.

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Her joyous presence, and sweet company
In full content he there did long enjoy;
Ne wicked envie, ne vile gealosy,
His deare delights were able to annoy:
Yet swimming in that sea of blissfull joy,
He nought forgot how he whilome had sworne,
In case he could that monstrous beast destroy,
Unto his Faerie Queene backe to returne;
The which he shortly did, and Una left to

mourne.

42

For we be come unto a quiet rode,
Now strike your sailes ye jolly Mariners,
Where we must land some of our passengers,
And light this wearie vessell of her lode.
Till she repaired have her tackles spent,
Here she a while may make her safe abode,
On the long voyage whereto she is bent:
And wants supplide. And then againe abroad

Well may she speede and fairely finish her intent.

PROTHALAMION*

Calm was the day, and through the trembling

air

Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play-
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister
fair;

When I, (whom sullen care,

Through discontent of my long fruitless stay
In princes' court, and expectation vain
Of idle hopes, which still do fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain)

*A "Spousall Verse" made in honor of the approaching double marriage of the Ladies Elizabeth and Katherine Somerset in 1596, and apparently celebrating some visit of theirs to Essex House. F. T. Palgrave says of this poem: "Nowhere has Spenser more emphatically displayed himself as the very poet of Beauty: The Renaissance impulse in England is here seen at its highest and purest."

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In sweetest season, when each flower and weed The earth did fresh array;

So fresh they seem'd as day,

70

They gather'd some; the violet, pallid blue, 30 Ev 'n as their bridal day, which was not long:

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That even the gentle stream, the which them bare,

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The which presenting all in trim array, Seem'd foul to them, and bade his billows Their snowy foreheads therewithal

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they

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

song.

'Ye gentle birds! the world's fair ornament, And Heaven's glory, whom this happy hour Doth lead unto your lovers' blissful bower,

90

4 Spenser spelled it Somer's heat (Somerset) and the pun was no doubt regarded as an ornaLent.

Joy may you have, and gentle hearts' content Whose want too well now feels my friendless Of your love's couplement;

And let fair Venus, that is queen of love,
With her heart-quelling son upon you smile,
Whose smile. they say, hath virtue to remove
All love's dislike, and friendship's faulty guile
For ever to assoil.

100

Let endless peace your steadfast hearts accord,
And blessed plenty wait upon your board;
And let your bed with pleasures chaste abound,
That fruitful issue may to you afford
Which may your foes confound,
And make your joys redound

Upon your bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my
song."

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case;

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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,9

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
alarms,

Which some brave Muse may sing
To ages following:

160

Upon the bridal day, which is not long:
Sweet Thames! run softly, till I end my song!

From those high towers this noble lord issuing
Like Radiant Hesper, when his golden hair
In th' ocean billows he hath bathéd fair,
Descended to the river's open viewing
With a great train ensuing.

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 Jove11 they seem'd in sight

Which deck the baldrie 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,

There whilome wont the Templar-knights to Each one did make his bride

bide,

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

8 Robert Devereux, second Earl of Essex 9 At Cadiz, 1596.

10 Apparently an allusion to the fact that the words ever and heureux (Fr., "happy") can be seen in the name Devereux.

11 Castor and Pollux, who were placed among the stars as the constellation Gemini.

ELIZABETHAN SONNETS*

EDMUND SPENSER (1552-1599)

AMORETTI XV.

Ye tradeful merchants that with weary toil
Do seek most precious things to make your gain,
And both the Indias of their treasures spoil,
What needeth you to seek so far in vain?
For lo, my love doth in herself contain
All this world's riches that may far be found:
If sapphires, lo, her eyes be sapphires plain;
If rubies, lo, her lips be rubies sound;

If pearls, her teeth be pearls, both pure and
round;

If ivory, her forehead ivory ween;

If gold, her locks are finest gold on ground;
If silver, her fair hands are silver sheen.
But that which fairest is, but few behold-
Her mind adorned with virtues manifold.

AMORETTI XXXVII.

Base things that to her love too bold aspire!
Such heavenly forms ought rather worshipt be
Than dare be loved by men of mean degree.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586)
ASTROPHEL AND STELLA I.†

Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to
show,

That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,

Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,

Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,―

I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;

Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain, Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow

Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburn'd brain.

What guile is this, that those her golden But words came halting forth, wanting Inven

tresses

She doth attire under a net of gold,

And with sly skill so cunningly them dresses

tion's stay2;

Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame
Study's blows;

my way.

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.

That which is gold or hair may scarce be told? And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in
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.
Fondness1 it were for any, being free,
To covet fetters, though they golden be!

AMORETTI LXI.

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
I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace,
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case,
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?

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-Do they above love to be loved, and yet
The bud of joy, the blossom of the morn,

Are beauties there as proud as here they be?

The beam of light, whom mortal eyes admire; Do they call virtue, there, ungratefulness? Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?

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 whom in 1594 was the occasion of his Epithalamion. The Astrophel and Stella series, of one hundred and ten, chronicles Sidney's love for Penelope Devereux. The inspirers of most of the other series seem more or less imaginary. See Eng. Lit., pp. 95, 107.

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, Sid-
ney's Astrophel and Stella offers the most in-
tense and powerful picture of the passion of
love in the whole range of our poetry.”—F. T.
Palgrave.
2 support

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.
Now at the last gasp of love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, passion speechless lies,
When faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And innocence is closing up his eyes,
-Now if thou would 'st, when all have given

him over,

From death to life thou might 'st him

recover!

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE (1564-1616)

SONNET XXIX.

yet

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless
cries,

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.

SONNET XXX.

When to the sessions3 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.

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,
Advantage on the kingdom of the shore,
Increasing store with loss, and loss with store;
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay,
That Time will come and take my Love away:
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate-
-This thought is as a death, which cannot
choose

But weep to have that which it fears to lose.

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