VII.

“Henceforth mine eyes shall never more behold Faire thing on earth, ne feed on false delight Of ought that framed is of mortall mould, Sith that my fairest flower is faded quight; For all I see is vaine and transitorie, 495 Ne will be held in any stedfast plight, But in a moment loose their grace and glorie.

“And ye, fond Men! on Fortunes wheele that ride, Or in ought under heaven repose assurance, Be it riches, beautie, or honours pride, 500 Be sure that they shall have no long endurance, But ere ye be aware will flit away; For nought of them is yours, but th’only usance Of a small time, which none ascertains may.

“And ye, true Lovers! whom desastrous chaunce, 505 Hath farre exiled from your ladies grace, To mourne in sorrow and sad sufferauncc, When ye doe heare me in that desert place Lamenting loud my Daphnes elegie, Helpe me to waile my miserable case, 510 And when life parts vouchsafe to close mine eye.

“And ye, more happie Lovers! which enioy The presence of your dearest loves delight, “When ye doe heare my sorrowfull annoy, Yet pittie me in your empassiond spright, 515 And thinke that such mishap as chaunst to me May happen unto the most happiest wight; For all mens states alike unstedfast be.

“And ye, ray fellow Shepheards! which do feed Your carelesse flocks on hils and open plaines, 520 With better fortune than did me succeed, Remember yet my undeserved paines; And when ye heare that I am dead or slaine, Lament my lot, and tell your fellow-swaines That sad Aleyon dyde in lifes disdaine. 525

“And ye, faire Damsels! shepheards deare delights, That with your loves do their rude hearts possesse, When as my hearse shall happen to your sightes, Vouchsafe to deck the same with cyparesse; And ever sprinckle brackish teares among, 530 In pitie of my undeserv’d distresse, The which, I, wretch, endured have thus long.

“And ye, poore Pilgrims! that with restlesse toyle Wearie your selves in wandring desart wayes, Till that you come where ye your vowes assoyle*, 535 When passing by ye reade these wofull layes On my grave written, rue my Daphnes wrong, And mourne for me that languish out my dayes. Cease, Shepheard! cease, and end thy undersong.” [* _Assoyle_, absolve, pay.]

Thus when he ended had his heavie plaint, 540 The heaviest plaint that ever I heard sound, His cheekes wext pale, and sprights began to faint, As if againe he would have fallen to ground; Which when I saw, I, stepping to him light, Amooved* him out of his stonie swound, 545 And gan him to recomfort as I might. [* _Amooved_, roused.]

But he no waie recomforted would be, Nor suffer solace to approach him nie, But, casting up a sdeinfull eie at me, That in his traunce I would not let him lie, 550 Did rend his haire, and beat his blubbred face, As one disposed wilfullie to die, That I sore griev’d to see his wretched case.

Tho when the pang was somewhat overpast, And the outragious passion nigh appeased, 555 I him desyrde, sith daie was overcast And darke night fast approched, to be pleased To turne aside unto my cabinet*, And staie with me, till he were better eased Of that strong stownd** which him so sore beset. 560 [* _Cabinet_, cabin.] [** _Stownd_, mood, paroxysm of grief.]

But by no meanes I could him win thereto, Ne longer him intreate with me to staie, But without taking leave he foorth did goe With staggring pace and dismall looks dismay, As if that Death he in the face had seene, 565 Or hellish hags had met upon the way: But what of him became I cannot weene.

AMORETTI

AND

EPITHALAMION.

WRITTEN NOT LONG SINCE BY

EDMUNDE SPENSER.

PRINTED FOR WILLIAM POSBONBY.

1595.

G. W. SENIOR*, TO THE AUTHOR.

[* These commendatory Sonnets first appeared in the first folio edition of Spenser’s entire works (1611). G. W., as Todd conjectures, may be George Whetstone. C.]

Darke is the day when Phoebus face is shrowded, And weaker sights may wander soone astray; But when they see his glorious raies unclowded, With steddy steps they keepe the perfect way: So, while this Muse in forraine land doth stay, Invention weepes, and pennes are cast aside; The time, like night, deprivd of chearfull day; And few doe write, but ah! too soone may slide. Then hie thee home, that art our perfect guide, And with thy wit illustrate Englands fame, Daunting therby our neighbors ancient pride, That do for Poesie challenge chiefest name: So we that live, and ages that succeed, With great applause thy learned works shall reed.

Ah! Colin, whether on the lowly plaine, Piping to shepheards thy sweet roundelayes, Or whether singing, in some loftie vaine, Heroicke deeds of past or present dayes, Or whether in thy lovely mistresse praise Thou list to exercise thy learned quill, Thy Muse hath got such grace and power to please, With rare invention, beautified by skill, As who therin can ever ioy their fill! O, therefore let that happy Muse proceed To clime the height of Vertues sacred hill, Where endlesse honour shal be made thy meed: Because no malice of succeeding daies Can rase those records of thy lasting praise.

G. W. I[unior].

AMORETTI.[*]

[* These Sonnets furnish us with a circumstantial and very interesting history of Spenser’s second courtship, which, after many repulses, was successfully terminated by the marriage celebrated in the _Epithalamion_. As these poems were entered in the Stationers’ Registers on the 19th of November, 1594, we may infer that they cover a period of time extending from the end of 1592 to the summer of 1594. It is possible, however, that these last dates may be a year too late, and that Spenser was married in 1593. We cannot be sure of the year, but we know, from the 266th verse of the Epithalamion, that the day was the feast of St. Barnabas, June 11 of the Old Style. In the 74th sonnet we are directly told that the lady’s name was Elizabeth. In the 61st, she is said to be of the “Brood of Angels, heavenly born.” From this and many similar expressions, interpreted by the laws of Anagram, and taken in conjunction with various circumstances which do not require to be stated here, it may be inferred that her surname was Nagle. C.]