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A VISION UPON THIS CONCEIPT OF THE FAERY QUEENE
ME thought I saw the grave where Laura lay, | |
| Within that temple where the vestall flame | |
| Was wont to burne; and passing by that way, | |
| To see that buried dust of living fame, | |
| Whose tumbe faire Love, and fairer Vertue kept, | 5 |
| All suddeinly I saw the Faery Queene: | |
| At whose approch the soule of Petrarke wept, | |
| And from thenceforth those graces were not seene. | |
| For they this Queene attended; in whose steed | |
| Oblivion laid him downe on Lauras herse: | 10 |
| Hereat the hardest stones were seene to bleed, | |
| And grones of buried ghostes the hevens did perse: | |
| Where Homers spright did tremble all for griefe, | |
| And curst th’ accesse of that celestiall theife. | |
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ANOTHER OF THE SAME
THE PRAYSE of meaner wits this worke like profit brings, | 15 |
| As doth the Cuckoes song delight when Philumena sings. | |
| If thou hast formed right true Vertues face herein, | |
| Vertue her selfe can best discerne, to whom they written bin. | |
| If thou hast Beauty praysd, let her sole lookes divine | |
| Judge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by her eine. | 20 |
| If Chastitie want ought, or Temperaunce her dew, | |
| Behold her princely mind aright, and write thy Queene anew. | |
| Meane while she shall perceive, how far her vertues sore | |
| Above the reach of all that live, or such as wrote of yore: | |
| And thereby will excuse and favour thy good will: | 25 |
| Whose vertue can not be exprest, but by an angels quill. | |
| Of me no lines are lov’d, nor letters are of price, | |
| Of all which speak our English tongue, but those of thy device. W. R. | |
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TO THE LEARNED SHEPEHEARD
COLLYN, I see by thy new taken taske, | |
| Some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes, | 30 |
| That leades thy Muse in haughty verse to maske, | |
| And loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes; | |
| That lifts thy notes from shepheardes unto kinges, | |
| So like the lively Larke that mounting singes. | |
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| Thy lovely Rosolinde seemes now forlorne, | 35 |
| And all thy gentle flockes forgotten quight; | |
| Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne, | |
| Those prety pypes that did thy mates delight, | |
| Those trusty mates, that loved thee so well, | |
| Whom thou gav’st mirth, as they gave thee the bell. | 40 |
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| Yet, as thou earst, with thy sweete roundelayes, | |
| Didst stirre to glee our laddes in homely bowers, | |
| So moughtst thou now in these refyned layes | |
| Delight the daintie eares of higher powers: | |
| And so mought they, in their deepe skanning skill, | 45 |
| Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quyll. | |
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| And faire befall that Faery Queene of thine, | |
| In whose faire eyes Love linckt with Vertue sittes: | |
| Enfusing, by those bewties fyers devyne, | |
| Such high conceites into thy humble wittes, | 50 |
| As raised hath poore pastors oaten reede, | |
| From rustick times, to chaunt heroique deedes. | |
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| So mought thy Redcrosse Knight with happy hand | |
| Victorious be in that faire Hands right, | |
| Which thou dost vayle in type of Faery Land, | 55 |
| Elizas blessed field, that Albion hight: | |
| That shieldes her friendes, and warres her mightie foes, | |
| Yet still with people, peace, and plentie flowes. | |
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| But (jolly shepheard) though with pleasing style | |
| Thou feast the humour of the courtly trayne, | 60 |
| Let not conceipt thy setled sence beguile, | |
| Ne daunted be through envy or disdaine. | |
| Subject thy dome to her empyring spright, | |
| From whence thy Muse, and all the world, takes light. HOBYNOLL. | |
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| FAYRE Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately towne | 65 |
| Runst paying tribute to the ocean seas, | |
| Let all thy nymphes and syrens of renowne | |
| Be silent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes: | |
| Nere thy sweet bankes, there lives that sacred Crowne, | |
| Whose hand strowes palme and never-dying bayes: | 70 |
| Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring sowne, | |
| Present her with this worthy poets prayes: | |
| For he hath taught hye drifts in shepeherdes weedes, | |
| And deepe conceites now singes in Faeries deedes. R. S. | |
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| GRAVE Muses, march in triumph and with prayses; | 75 |
| Our Goddesse here hath given you leave to land, | |
| And biddes this rare dispenser of your graces | |
| Bow downe his brow unto her sacred hand. | |
| Desertes findes dew in that most princely doome, | |
| In whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde: | 80 |
| So did that great Augustus erst in Roome | |
| With leaves of fame adorne his poets hedde. | |
| Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene, | |
| Even of the fairest that the world hath seene. H. B. | |
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| WHEN stout Achilles heard of Helens rape | 85 |
| And what revenge the states of Greece devisd: | |
| Thinking by sleight the fatall warres to scape, | |
| In womans weedes him selfe he then disguisde: | |
| But this devise Ulysses soone did spy, | |
| And brought him forth, the chaunce of warre to try. | 90 |
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| When Spencer saw the fame was spredd so large, | |
| Through Faery Land, of their renowned Queene, | |
| Loth that his Muse should take so great a charge, | |
| As in such haughty matter to be seene, | |
| To seeme a shepeheard then he made his choice; | 95 |
| But Sydney heard him sing, and knew his voice. | |
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| And as Ulysses brought faire Thetis sonne | |
| From his retyred life to menage armes, | |
| So Spencer was by Sidneys speaches wonne | |
| To blaze her fame, not fearing future harmes: | 100 |
| For well he knew, his Muse would soone be tyred | |
| In her high praise, that all the world admired. | |
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| Yet as Achilles, in those warlike frayes, | |
| Did win the palme from all the Grecian peeres, | |
| So Spencer now, to his immortall prayse, | 105 |
| Hath wonne the laurell quite from all his feres. | |
| What though his taske exceed a humaine witt? | |
| He is excus’d, sith Sidney thought it fitt. W. L. | |
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| TO looke upon a worke of rare devise | |
| The which a workman setteth out to view, | 110 |
| And not to yield it the deserved prise | |
| That unto such a workmanship is dew, | |
| Doth either prove the judgement to be naught, | |
| Or els doth shew a mind with envy fraught. | |
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| To labour to commend a peece of worke | 115 |
| Which no man goes about to discommend, | |
| Would raise a jealous doubt, that there did lurke | |
| Some secret doubt, whereto the prayse did tend: | |
| For when men know the goodnes of the wyne, | |
| ’Tis needlesse for the hoast to have a sygne. | 120 |
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| Thus then, to shew my judgement to be such | |
| As can discerne of colours blacke and white, | |
| As alls to free my minde from envies tuch, | |
| That never gives to any man his right, | |
| I here pronounce this workmanship is such, | 125 |
| As that no pen can set it forth too much. | |
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| And thus I hang a garland at the dore, | |
| Not for to shew the goodnes of the ware, | |
| But such hath beene the custome heretofore, | |
| And customes very hardly broken are. | 130 |
| And when your tast shall tell you this is trew, | |
| Then looke you give your hoast his utmost dew. IGNOTO. | |
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