Category: POEMS

O do not grieve, dear heart, nor shed a tear,
Since in your eyes my life doth still keep there,¹
And in your countenance my death I find;
I’m² buried in your melancholy mind.
But in your smiles I’m glorified to rise,                        5
And your pure love doth³ me eternalize;
Thus by your favor you a god me make,⁴
And⁵ by your hate a devil’s shape I take.⁶

The spring doth spin fine grass-green silk, of which
Was woven⁷ a carpet, like the Persian, rich,
And all about the borders, there were⁸ spread
Clusters of grapes, mixed green, blue, white, and red,
And in the midst the gods in sundry shapes                                  5
Were⁹ curious wrought, divulging all their rapes,
And all the ground was strewed with flowers so;¹⁰
As if by Nature set, they there did grow.¹¹
Those figures all like sculptures did¹² bear out;
Whether they lay on flat many did¹³ doubt.                                  10
There light and dark all intermixed were¹⁴ laid
For shady groves, where priests¹⁵ devoutly prayed.
The fruits so hung¹⁶ as did invite the taste;
Small birds with picking seemed¹⁷ to make a waste.
The ground was wrought like threads drawn from the sun,    15
Which shined so blazing as¹⁸ a fired gun.
This piece the pattern is of artful skill;
Art th’imitator¹⁹ is of Nature still.

A shady grove, where trees²⁰ in equal space
Did grow, seemed like²¹ a consecrated place.
Through spreading boughs the²² quivering light broke in,
Much like to glass or crystal shivered thin;
Those pieces small²³ on a green carpet strewed,                        5
So in this wood the light all broken showed.
Yet²⁴ this disturbèd light the grove did grace,
As sadness doth a fair and beauteous face.
And in the midst an ancient oak stood there,
Which heretofore did many offerings bear,²⁵                            10
Whose branches all were hung with relics round,²⁶
To show how many men the gods made sound,²⁷
And for reward,²⁸ long life the gods did give
Unto this oak, that he should aged²⁹ live.
His younger years, when acorns he did bear,                           15
No dandruff moss, but fresh³⁰ green leaves grew there,
Which curled hung down³¹ his shoulders, broad they spread;
His crown was thick, and bushy was his head,
His stature tall, full breasted, broad, and big,
His body round, and straight was every twig.                           20
But youth and beauty, which are shadows thin,
Do fade away as if they ne’er had been.
For all his fresh green leaves, and smooth moist rine³²
Are quite worn off, and now grown bald with time,³³
Whereas before, his arms fought with the wind,³⁴                  25
And his bark did, like skin, his body bind.³⁵
Where he all times and seasons firm could³⁶ stand,
And ’gainst all blust’ring storms his face did bend,³⁷
Yet now so weak and feeble he³⁸ doth grow,
That every blast is apt him down to throw.                               30
His branches all are seared, his bark grown gray,
Most of his rine with time is peeled away.
The liquid sap, which from the root did spring,³⁹
And to each thirsty bough its food did bring,⁴⁰
Is all drunk up; there is no moisture left;                                  35
The root is rotten, and the body⁴¹ cleft.
Thus time doth ruin, brings⁴² all to decay,
Though to the gods we⁴³ still devoutly pray.
For this old oak was sacred to high⁴⁴ Jove,
Which was the king of all the gods above.                                 40
But gods, when they created all at first,⁴⁵
They did ordain all should return⁴⁶ to dust.

The garden, which⁴⁷ some Paradise do call,
Is placed just under⁴⁸ th’equinoctial.
Echoes there are most artificial made,
And cooling grottoes, from the heat to shade.
The azure sky is always bright and clear;                                5
No gross thick vapors in the clouds appear.
There many stars do comfort the sad night;
The fixed do twinkl’and⁴⁹ with the rest give light.
No noise is heard, but what the ear delights;
No fruits are there, but what the taste invites.                      10
Up through the nose bruised flowers fume⁵⁰ the brain,
As honeydew in balmy showers⁵¹ rain.
Various colors, by Nature intermixed,
Divert the eyes so, as none can be fixed.⁵²
Here atoms small on sunbeams dance all day,                      15
While Zephyrus sweet doth on the air⁵³ play,
Which music from Apollo bears the praise,
And Orpheus at its⁵⁴ sound his harp down lays.
Apollo yields, and not contends with spite,
Presenting Zephyrus with twelve hours⁵⁵ light.                     20
The⁵⁶ night, though sad, in quiet pleasure takes,
With silence listens⁵⁷ when he music makes,
And when the day doth come, she’s grievèd so,⁵⁸
That she cannot hear Zeph’rus longer⁵⁹ blow,
And with her mantle black herself enshrouds,                     25
Which is embroidered all of stars in clouds.
Here are intermixing walks⁶⁰ of pleasure,
Of grass, and sand, broad, short, and of all⁶¹ measure,
Some shaded for a⁶² lover’s musing thought,
When his mind is with love’s idea⁶³ fraught.                         30
The walks all⁶⁴ firm and hard as marble are,
Yet soft as down by grass that groweth there,
Where daisies grow as mushrooms in a night,
Mixed yellow, white, and⁶⁵ green to please the sight.
At dawning day, the dew all overspreads⁶⁶                            35
In little drops upon those daisies’ heads;⁶⁷
As thick as stars are set in heaven high,⁶⁸
So daisies on the earth as close do lie.
Here emerald banks are,⁶⁹ whence fine flowers spring,
Whose scents and colors various pleasures⁷⁰ bring:            40
Primroses, cowslips, violets, daffodillies,⁷¹
Roses, honeysuckles,⁷² and white lillies,
Wall-flowers, pinks, and marigolds besides,⁷³
Grow on the banks⁷⁴ enriched with Nature’s pride.
On other banks grow simples, which are good                      45
For med’cines,⁷⁵ well applied and understood.
There trees do grow, that⁷⁶ proper are, and tall,
Whose bark is⁷⁷ smooth, and bodies sound withal,
Whose spreading tops are full, and ever green,
As Nazarites’ heads, where razors have⁷⁸ not been,             50
And curlèd leaves, which bowing branches bear,
By warmth are fed, for winter ne’er comes there.
There fruits so pleasing⁷⁹ to the taste do grow
That⁸⁰ with delight the sense they⁸¹ overflow,
And archèd arbors, where sweet birds do sing,                     55
Whose hollow rooves do make each echo ring.
Prospects, which trees and clouds by mixing show,⁸²
Joined by the eye, one perfect piece do grow.⁸³
Here fountains are, where trilling⁸⁴ drops down run,
Which twinkle as the stars, or as the⁸⁵ sun,                            60
And through each several spout such noise it makes,⁸⁶
As bird in spring when he his pleasure takes:⁸⁷
Some chirping sparrow, and the singing lark,
Or quavering nightingale in evening dark,
The⁸⁸ whistling blackbird, with the pleasant thrush,           65
Linnet, bullfinch, which sing in every bush.
No weeds are here, nor withered leaves, and dry,
But ever green and pleasant to the eye;
No frost to nip the tender buds in birth,⁸⁹
Nor winter snow to fall on this sweet earth.                          70
The beauty of the spring here ne’er doth waste,⁹⁰
Because ’tis just under th’equator placed.⁹¹
The day and night by turns keep equal⁹² watch,
That thievish time should nothing from them catch.
And every Muse a several walk enjoys,                                   75
The sad delights in⁹³ shades; the light employs⁹⁴
Her time in sports; satyrs⁹⁵ in corners lurk,
And as their gard’ners with great pains⁹⁶ do work:
They cut, graft, set, and sow, all with much skill,⁹⁷
And gather fruits and flow’rs when th’Muses will,⁹⁸           80
And nymphs, as handmaids, their attendance give,
For which, by fame the Muses make them⁹⁹ live.

The sweat of th’Earth through porous holes⁸⁸ doth pass,
Which¹⁰⁰ is the dew that lies upon the grass,
Which¹⁰¹ (like a lover kind) the Sun wipes clean,
That her fair face may to the light be seen.
This water for her sake he so¹⁰² esteems,                                         5
That all the¹⁰³ drops upon his silver beams
He threads, like ropes of pearls, which¹⁰⁴ to his sphere
He draws and turns¹⁰⁵ to crystal, when they’re there.
Yet,what he gathers, he cannot¹⁰⁶ keep all,
But of those drops, some down again¹⁰⁷ do fall,                            10
And then, when they upon her head do¹⁰⁸ run,
He clouds his brows, as if he ill had¹⁰⁹ done.
For¹¹⁰ lovers think they always do amiss,
Although those showers¹¹¹ her refreshment is.
When she by sweat exhausted grows, and dry,                          15
Then doth the Sun moist clouds squeeze in the¹¹² sky,
Or else he takes some of his sharpest beams
And breaks¹¹³ the clouds, from whence pour crystal streams.
Then th’Earth drinks too much, yet never reels¹¹⁴
Nor dizzy grows, although she sickness feels.¹¹⁵                         20

¹¹⁶

Lapland is the place from whence all winds come,¹¹⁷
From¹¹⁸ witches, not from caves, as do think some.¹¹⁹
For they do draw the air¹²⁰ into high hills,
And beat it¹²¹ out again by certain mills,
Then sack it up, and sell it out for gain                             5
To mariners, which traffic on the main.

The four chief winds are giants, long¹²² in length,
And as broad¹²³ set, and wondrous great in strength.
Their heads are more (as it doth clear¹²⁴ appear)
Than all¹²⁵ the months or seasons of the year.
Nay, some say more than all the days and¹²⁶ nights,                    5
And some, they’re numberless and infinite.¹²⁷

The first four heads are largest of them all;
The twelve are next, the thirty two but small,
The rest so little, and their breath so weak,
Their mouths so narrow that they hardly¹²⁸ speak.                    10
These giants are so lustful and so wild,
As they by force do¹²⁹ get the Earth with child,
And big she swells until the time of birth:¹³⁰
Her bowels stretched, high bellied is the earth.¹³¹
Then doth she groan with grievous pains,¹³² and shake,          15
Until she’s brought abed with her¹³³ earthquake.
This child of wind doth ruin all it¹³⁴ meets,
Rends¹³⁵ rocks and mountains like to paper sheets;
It swallows cities, and the heav’ns¹³⁶ doth tear;
It threatens Jove, and makes the gods to fear.                            20

The North Wind’s cold; his nerves are¹³⁷ dry and strong;
He pulls up oaks, and¹³⁸ lays them all along.
In icy fetters he¹³⁹ binds rivers fast,
Imprisons fishes in the¹⁴⁰ ocean vast,
Plows up the seas, and hail for seed in flings,                             25
Whence¹⁴¹ crops of overflows the tide in brings.
He drives the clouds in troops, which¹⁴² makes them run,
And blows as if he would put out¹⁴³ the sun.

The Southern Wind, who is as fierce as he,
And to the Sun as great an enemy,                                               30
Doth raise¹⁴⁴ an army of thick clouds and mists,
With which he¹⁴⁵ thinks to do just as he lists,
Flinging¹⁴⁶ up waters to quench out his light,
And¹⁴⁷ in his face, black clouds to hide his sight.
But the bright¹⁴⁸ Sun cannot endure this scorn,                         35
And¹⁴⁹ doth them all in showers of rain¹⁵⁰ return.

The Western Wind, without ambitious ends,
Doth what he can to join and make them friends,
For he is of a nature sweet and mild,
And not so headstrong, rough, nor rude, nor¹⁵¹ wild.               40
He’s soft to touch, and pleasant to the¹⁵² ear—
His voice sounds sweet and small, and very clear—
And makes hot love to young fresh buds that spring;¹⁵³
They give him sweets, which he through th’air doth fling,¹⁵⁴
Not through¹⁵⁵ dislike, but for to make them known,¹⁵⁶            45
As pictures are for beauteous faces shown.¹⁵⁷

But O, the Eastern Wind is¹⁵⁸ full of spite,
Diseases brings, which cruelly do bite;
He blasts young buds, and corn within the blade,¹⁵⁹
He rots the sheep; to men he brings the plague.¹⁶⁰                    50
Nay, he’s of such ill nature, that he would¹⁶¹
Destroy the world with poison, if he could.¹⁶²

¹⁶³

The stately palace in which the Queen¹⁶⁴ dwells,
Its fabric’s built all¹⁶⁵ of hodmandod shells.
The hangings, of a rainbow made¹⁶⁶ that’s thin,
Show¹⁶⁷ wondrous fine when one first enters¹⁶⁸ in.
The chambers, made¹⁶⁹ of amber that is¹⁷⁰ clear,                        5
Do give a fine¹⁷¹ sweet smell, if fire be near.
Her bed, a cherry-stone, is carved¹⁷² throughout,
And with a butterfly’s wing hung about;
Her sheets are made of a dove’s eyes’ skin,¹⁷³
Her pillow a violet bud laid therein.¹⁷⁴                                    10
The doors¹⁷⁵ are cut all of¹⁷⁶ transparent glass,
Where the queen may be seen when¹⁷⁷ she doth pass;
These¹⁷⁸ doors are locked up¹⁷⁹ fast with silver pins,
And when she goes to sleep,¹⁸⁰ our day begins.
Her time in pleasure she doth pass¹⁸¹ away,                           15
And will¹⁸² do so until the world’s last day.

This lovely sweet and beauteous Fairy Queen
Begins to rise when Hesperus¹⁸³ is seen,
For she is kin unto the god of night,
Unto¹⁸⁴ Diana, and the stars so bright,
And so to all the rest in some degrees,                                   5
Yet not so near relation as to these.
As for Apollo, she disclaims him quite,
And swears she ne’er will come within his light,
For they fell out about some foolish toy,
Where ever since in him she takes no joy.                           10
She says¹⁸⁵ he always doth more harm than good,
If but¹⁸⁶ his malice were well¹⁸⁷ understood,
For he brings dearths by parching up the ground,
And sucks up water, that none can be found.
He makes poor men¹⁸⁸ in fev’rish plagues to lie;                   15
His arrows hot make men¹⁸⁹ and beasts to¹⁹⁰ die.
So that to him she never will come near,
But hates to see when that¹⁹¹ his beams appear.
This makes the cock her notice give,¹⁹² they say,
That when he rises, she may go her way,                             20
And makes the owl her favorite to be,
Because Apollo’s face she hates to see.
For owls do sleep all day, and¹⁹³ in the night
They shout and hollo¹⁹⁴ that they’re out of sight.
So doth¹⁹⁵ the glow-worm all day hide her¹⁹⁶ head,             25
But lights her¹⁹⁷ taper-tail, when he’s abed,
To wait upon the fairest Fairy Queen
Whilst she is sporting on the meadow green.¹⁹⁸
Her pastime only is, when she’s on Earth,
To pinch the sluts, which make Hobgoblin mirth,             30
Or changes children while the nurses sleep,
Making the father rich, whose child they keep.
This Hobgoblin’s¹⁹⁹ the Queen of Fairy’s fool,
Turning himself to horse, cow, tree, or stool,
Or anything to cross by harmless play,                                 35
As to lead²⁰⁰ travelers out of their way,
Or kick down pails of milk, cause cheese not²⁰¹ turn,
Or hinder butter’s coming²⁰² in the churn,
Which makes the farmer’s wife to scold and fret
That she can neither cheese nor butter²⁰³ get,                     40
And then he doth hold up, as they do²⁰⁴ say,
Hens’ rumps, lest they their eggs too fast should²⁰⁵ lay.
The good wife, sad, squats down upon a stool,²⁰⁶
Not at all thinking it was Hob the fool,²⁰⁷
And²⁰⁸ frowning sits; then Hob gives her a²⁰⁹ slip,               45
And down she falls, whereby she hurts her hip.
Thus many pranks doth Hob play²¹⁰ on our stage,
With his companion Tom Thumb,²¹¹ the queen’s page,
Who doth like piece of fat in pudding lie,
And²¹² almost chokes the eater, going awry.                        50
And when he’s down the guts, he²¹³ wind blows out,
Putting the standers-by into a rout,
Thus²¹⁴ shames the eater with a foul disgrace,
That never after dare he²¹⁵ show his face.
Besides, in many places puts himself,                                  55
In bags and budgets, as²¹⁶ a little elf,
To make his bearers start away with fear
To think that anything²¹⁷ alive is²¹⁸ there.
In this the Queen of Fairies takes delight,
In summer’s even, and in winter’s night,                            60
And when as²¹⁹ she is weary of these plays,
She takes her coach and goeth²²⁰ on her ways
Unto her paradise, the center deep,
Where she the storehouse doth of Nature keep.²²¹

Where this Queen²²² Mab, and all her fairy fry²²³
Are dancing²²⁴ on a pleasant molehill high
To²²⁵ small straw pipes, wherein great²²⁶ pleasure
They take, and²²⁷ keep just time and measure.
All hand in hand, around, around,²²⁸                              5
They dance upon this fairy ground.
And when she leaves her dancing ball,²²⁹
She doth for her attendants call²³⁰
To wait upon her to²³¹ a bower,
Where she doth sit under a flower                              10
To shade her from the moonshine bright,
Where gnats do sing for her delight.
Some high, some low, some middle²³² strain,
Making a consort very plain,
The whilst the bat doth fly about                                 15
To keep in order all the rout,
And with her wings doth soundly pay²³³
Those that make noise and not obey.²³⁴
She on a dewy leaf doth bathe,²³⁵
And as she sits, the leaf doth wave.²³⁶                          20
There, like a new-fallen flake of snow,²³⁷
Doth her white limbs in beauty show.²³⁸
Her garments fair her maids put on,²³⁹
Made of the pure light from the sun,
From whence such colors she inshades²⁴⁰                  25
In every object she invades.²⁴¹
Then to her dinner she goes straight,
Where all fairies²⁴² in order wait,
And on a mushroom there is spread²⁴³
A cover fine of spider’s web.²⁴⁴                                      30
Her stool is of²⁴⁵ a thistle-down,
And for her cup, an acorn’s crown,
Which of strong nectar full²⁴⁶ is filled,
That from sweet flowers is distilled.
Flies of all sorts, both fat and good,                             35
As quails, snipes, partridge are²⁴⁷ her food,
Pheasants, larks, cocks, or²⁴⁸ any kind,
Both wild and tame, you there may²⁴⁹ find,
And omelets²⁵⁰ made of ants’ eggs new;
Of these high meats she eats but few.                          40
Her milk comes from the dormouse udder,²⁵¹
Making fresh cheese, cream, and butter;²⁵²
This milk makes²⁵³ many a fine knack,
When they fresh ants’ eggs therein crack.
Pudding and custard,²⁵⁴ and seed-cake                        45
Her well-skilled²⁵⁵ cook knows how to make.
To sweeten them, the bee doth bring
Pure honey, gathered by her sting.
But for her guard serves²⁵⁶ grosser meat;
On stall-fed dormice²⁵⁷ they do eat.                               50
When dined, she calls²⁵⁸ to take the air
In coach, which is a nutshell fair;
The lining’s soft²⁵⁹ and rich within,
Made of a glistering adder’s skin.
And there, six crickets draw her fast,                          55
When²⁶⁰ she a journey takes in haste,
Or else two serve²⁶¹ to pace a round,
And trample on the fairy ground.
In hawks²⁶² sometimes she takes delight,
Which hornets are, most²⁶³ swift in²⁶⁴ flight,               60
Whose horns instead of talons will²⁶⁵
A fly, as hawks a partridge, kill.²⁶⁶
But if she will a-hunting go,
Then she the lizard makes the doe,
Which is²⁶⁷ so swift and fleet in chase                         65
As her slow coach cannot keep²⁶⁸ pace;
Then on grasshopper doth she²⁶⁹ ride,
And gallop in the²⁷⁰ forest wide.
Her bow is of a willow branch,
To shoot the lizard on the haunch;                              70
Her arrow sharp, much like a blade,
Of a rosemary leaf is made.
Then home she’s callèd by the cock,
Who gives her warning what’s o’clock,²⁷¹
And when the moon doth hide her head,                   75
Their day is done; she goes²⁷² to bed.
Meteors do serve, when they are bright,
As torches do, to give her light.
Glow-worms, for candles lighted up,²⁷³
Stand on her table while she²⁷⁴ sup,                             80
And in her chamber they are placed,
Not fearing how the tallow waste.
But women, that inconstant kind,²⁷⁵
Can ne’er fix in one place²⁷⁶ their mind.
For she, impatient of long stay,²⁷⁷                                  85
Drives to the upper Earth away.²⁷⁸