Part 9

Must I needes write, who's hee that can refuse, He wants a minde, for her that hath no Muse, The thought of her doth heau'nly rage inspire, Next powerfull, to those clouen tongues of fire. Since I knew ought time neuer did allowe Me stuffe fit for an Elegie, till now; When _France_ and _England's_ HENRIES dy'd, my quill, Why, I know not, but it that time lay still. 'Tis more then greatnesse that my spirit must raise, To obserue custome I vse not to praise; 10 Nor the least thought of mine yet ere depended, On any one from whom she was descended; That for their fauour I this way should wooe, As some poor wretched things (perhaps) may doe; I gaine the end, whereat I onely ayme, If by my freedome, I may giue her fame. Walking then forth being newly vp from bed, O Sir (quoth one) the Lady CLIFTON'S dead. When, but that reason my sterne rage withstood, My hand had sure beene guilty of his blood. 20 If shee be so, must thy rude tongue confesse it (Quoth I) and com'st so coldly to expresse it. Thou shouldst haue giuen a shreeke, to make me feare thee; That might haue slaine what euer had beene neere thee. Thou shouldst haue com'n like Time with thy scalpe bare, And in thy hands thou shouldst haue brought thy haire, Casting vpon me such a dreadfull looke, As seene a spirit, or th'adst beene thunder-strooke, And gazing on me so a little space, Thou shouldst haue shot thine eye balls in my face, 30 Then falling at my feet, thou shouldst haue said, O she is gone, and Nature with her dead. With this ill newes amaz'd by chance I past, By that neere Groue, whereas both first and last, I saw her, not three moneths before shee di'd. When (though full Summer gan to vaile her pride, And that I sawe men leade home ripened Corne, Besides aduis'd me well,) I durst haue sworne The lingring yeare, the Autumne had adiourn'd, And the fresh Spring had beene againe return'd, 40 Her delicacie, louelinesse, and grace, With such a Summer brauery deckt the place: But now alas, it lookt forlorne and dead; And where she stood, the fading leaues were shed, Presenting onely sorrowe to my sight, O God (thought I) this is her Embleme right. And sure I thinke it cannot but be thought, That I to her by prouidence was brought. For that the Fates fore-dooming, shee should die, Shewed me this wondrous Master peece, that I 50 Should sing her Funerall, that the world should know it, That heauen did thinke her worthy of a Poet; My hand is fatall, nor doth fortune doubt, For what it writes, not fire shall ere race out. A thousand silken Puppets should haue died, And in their fulsome Coffins putrified, Ere in my lines, you of their names should heare To tell the world that such there euer were, Whose memory shall from the earth decay, Before those Rags be worne they gaue away: 60 Had I her god-like features neuer seene, Poore slight Report had tolde me she had beene A hansome Lady, comely, very well, And so might I haue died an Infidell, As many doe which neuer did her see, Or cannot credit, what she was, by mee. Nature, her selfe, that before Art prefers To goe beyond all our Cosmographers, By Charts and Maps exactly that haue showne, All of this earth that euer can be knowne, 70 For that she would beyond them all descrie What Art could not by any mortall eye; A Map of heauen in her rare features drue, And that she did so liuely and so true, That any soule but seeing it might sweare That all was perfect heauenly that was there. If euer any Painter were so blest, To drawe that face, which so much heau'n exprest, If in his best of skill he did her right, I wish it neuer may come in my sight, 80 I greatly doubt my faith (weake man) lest I Should to that face commit Idolatry. Death might haue tyth'd her sex, but for this one, Nay, haue ta'n halfe to haue let her alone; Such as their wrinkled temples to supply, Cyment them vp with sluttish _Mercury_, Such as vndrest were able to affright, A valiant man approching him by night; Death might haue taken such, her end deferd, Vntill the time she had beene climaterd; 90 When she would haue bin at threescore yeares and three, Such as our best at three and twenty be, With enuie then, he might haue ouerthrowne her, When age nor time had power to ceaze vpon her. But when the vnpittying Fates her end decreed, They to the same did instantly proceed, For well they knew (if she had languish'd so) As those which hence by naturall causes goe, So many prayers, and teares for her had spoken, As certainly their Iron lawes had broken, 100 And had wak'd heau'n, who clearely would haue show'd That change of Kingdomes to her death it ow'd; And that the world still of her end might thinke, It would haue let some Neighbouring mountaine sinke. Or the vast Sea it in on vs to cast, As _Seuerne_ did about some fiue yeares past: Or some sterne Comet his curld top to reare, Whose length should measure halfe our Hemisphere. Holding this height, to say some will not sticke, That now I raue, and am growne lunatique: 110 You of what sexe so ere you be, you lye, 'Tis thou thy selfe is lunatique, not I. I charge you in her name that now is gone, That may coniure you, if you be not stone, That you no harsh, nor shallow rimes decline, Vpon that day wherein you shall read mine. Such as indeed are falsely termed verse, And will but sit like mothes vpon her herse; Nor that no child, nor chambermaide, nor page, Disturbe the Rome, the whilst my sacred rage, 120 In reading is; but whilst you heare it read, Suppose, before you, that you see her dead, The walls about you hung with mournfull blacke, And nothing of her funerall to lacke, And when this period giues you leaue to pause, Cast vp your eyes, and sigh for my applause.

Vpon the noble Lady ASTONS _departure for Spaine_

I many a time haue greatly marueil'd, why Men say, their friends depart when as they die, How well that word, a dying, doth expresse, I did not know (I freely must confesse,) Till her departure: for whose missed sight, I am enforc'd this Elegy to write: But since resistlesse fate will haue it so, That she from hence must to _Iberia_ goe, And my weak wishes can her not detaine, I will of heauen in policy complaine, 10 That it so long her trauell should adiourne, Hoping thereby to hasten her returne. The witches Can those of _Norway_ for their wage procure, of the By their blacke spells a winde that shall endure Northerly Till from aboard the wished land men see, legions sell And fetch the harbour, where they long to be, windes to Can they by charmes doe this and cannot I passengers. Who am the Priest of _Phoebus_, and so hie, Sit in his fauour, winne the Poets god, To send swift _Hermes_ with his snaky rod, 20 To _Æolus_ Caue, commanding him with care, His prosperous winds, that he for her prepare, And from that howre, wherein shee takes the seas, Nature bring on the quiet _Halcion_ dayes, And in that hower that bird begin her nest, Nay at that very instant, that long rest May seize on _Neptune_, who may still repose, And let that bird nere till that hower disclose, Wherein she landeth, and for all that space Be not a wrinkle seene on _Thetis_ face, 30 Onely so much breath with a gentle gale, As by the easy swelling of her saile, The nearest May at *_Sebastians_ safely set her downe Harbour of Where, with her goodnes she may blesse the towne. _Spaine_. If heauen in iustice would haue plagu'd by thee Some Pirate, and grimme _Neptune_ thou should'st be His Executioner, or what is his worse, The gripple Merchant, borne to be the curse Of this braue Iland; let them for her sake, Who to thy safeguard doth her selfe betake, 40 Escape vndrown'd, vnwrackt, nay rather let Them be at ease in some safe harbour set, Where with much profit they may vent their wealth That they haue got by villany and stealth, Rather great _Neptune_, then when thou dost raue, Thou once shouldst wet her saile but with a waue. Or if some proling Rouer shall but dare, To seize the ship wherein she is to fare, Let the fell fishes of the Maine appeare, And tell those Sea-thiefes, that once such they were 50 As they are now, till they assaid to rape An Ile for Grape-crowned _Bacchus_ in a striplings shape, the abundance That came aboard them, and would faine haue saild, of wine To vine-spread *_Naxus_ but that him they faild, supposed to Which he perceiuing, them so monstrous made, be the And warnd them how they passengers inuade. habitation Ye South and Westerne winds now cease to blow of _Bachus_. Autumne is come, there be no flowers to grow, Yea from that place respire, to which she goes, And to her sailes should show your selfe but foes, 60 But _Boreas_ and yee Esterne windes arise, To send her soon to _Spaine_, but be precise, That in your aide you seeme not still so sterne, As we a summer should no more discerne, For till that here againe, I may her see, It will be winter all the yeare with mee. _Castor_ and Ye swanne-begotten lonely brother-stars, _Polox_ begot So oft auspicious to poore Mariners, by _Ioue_ on Ye twin-bred lights of louely _Leda's_ brood, _Leda_ in the _Ioues_ egge-borne issue smile vpon the flood, 70 forme of a And in your mild'st aspect doe ye appeare Swanne. A To be her warrant from all future feare. constellation And if thou ship that bear'st her, doe proue good, ominous to May neuer time by wormes, consume thy wood Mariners. Nor rust thy iron, may thy tacklings last, Till they for reliques be in temples plac't; Maist thou be ranged with that mighty Arke, Wherein iust _Noah_ did all the world imbarque, With that which after _Troyes_ so famous wracke, From ten yeares trauell brought _Vlisses_ backe, 80 That Argo which to _Colchos_ went from _Greece_, And in her botome brought the goulden fleece Vnder braue _Iason_; or that same of _Drake_, Wherein he did his famous voyage make About the world; or _Candishes_ that went As far as his, about the Continent. And yee milde winds that now I doe implore, Not once to raise the least sand on the shore, Nor once on forfait of your selues respire: When once the time is come of her retire, 90 If then it please you, but to doe your due, What for these windes I did, Ile doe for you; Ile wooe you then, and if that not suffice, My pen shall prooue you to haue dietyes, Ile sing your loues in verses that shall flow, And tell the storyes of your weale and woe, Ile prooue what profit to the earth you bring, And how t'is you that welcome in the spring; Ile raise vp altars to you, as to show, The time shall be kept holy, when you blow. 100 O blessed winds! your will that it may be, To send health to her, and her home to me.

To my most dearely-loued friend HENERY REYNOLDS Esquire, of _Poets & Poesie_

My dearely loued friend how oft haue we, In winter evenings (meaning to be free,) To some well-chosen place vs'd to retire; And there with moderate meate, and wine, and fire, Haue past the howres contentedly with chat, Now talk of this, and then discours'd of that, Spoke our owne verses 'twixt our selves, if not Other mens lines, which we by chance had got, Or some Stage pieces famous long before, Of which your happy memory had store; 10 And I remember you much pleased were, Of those who liued long agoe to heare, As well as of those, of these latter times, Who have inricht our language with their rimes, And in succession, how still vp they grew, Which is the subiect, that I now pursue; For from my cradle, (you must know that) I, Was still inclin'd to noble Poesie, And when that once _Pueriles_ I had read, And newly had my _Cato_ construed, 20 In my small selfe I greatly marueil'd then, Amonst all other, what strange kinde of men These Poets were; And pleased with the name, To my milde Tutor merrily I came, (For I was then a proper goodly page, Much like a Pigmy, scarse ten yeares of age) Clasping my slender armes about his thigh. O my deare master! cannot you (quoth I) Make me a Poet, doe it if you can, And you shall see, Ile quickly bee a man, 30 Who me thus answered smiling, boy quoth he, If you'le not play the wag, but I may see You ply your learning, I will shortly read Some Poets to you; _Phoebus_ be my speed, Too't hard went I, when shortly he began, And first read to me honest _Mantuan_, Then _Virgils Eglogues_, being entred thus, Me thought I straight had mounted _Pegasus_, And in his full Careere could make him stop, And bound vpon _Parnassus'_ by-clift top. 40 I scornd your ballet then though it were done And had for Finis, _William Elderton_. But soft, in sporting with this childish iest, I from my subiect haue too long digrest, Then to the matter that we tooke in hand, _Ioue_ and _Apollo_ for the _Muses_ stand. Then noble _Chaucer_, in those former times, The first inrich'd our _English_ with his rimes, And was the first of ours, that euer brake, Into the _Muses_ treasure, and first spake 50 In weighty numbers, deluing in the Mine Of perfect knowledge, which he could refine, And coyne for currant, and as much as then The _English_ language could expresse to men, He made it doe; and by his wondrous skill, Gaue vs much light from his abundant quill. And honest _Gower_, who in respect of him, Had only sipt at _Aganippas_ brimme, And though in yeares this last was him before, Yet fell he far short of the others store. 60 When after those, foure ages very neare, They with the _Muses_ which conuersed, were That Princely _Surrey_, early in the time Of the Eight _Henry_, who was then the prime Of _Englands_ noble youth; with him there came _Wyat_; with reuerence whom we still doe name Amongst our Poets, _Brian_ had a share With the two former, which accompted are That times best makers, and the authors were Of those small poems, which the title beare, 70 Of songs and sonnets, wherein oft they hit On many dainty passages of wit. _Gascoine_ and _Churchyard_ after them againe In the beginning of _Eliza's_ raine, Accoumpted were great Meterers many a day, But not inspired with braue fier, had they Liu'd but a little longer, they had seene, Their works before them to have buried beene. Graue morrall _Spencer_ after these came on Then whom I am perswaded there was none 80 Since the blind _Bard_ his _Iliads_ vp did make, Fitter a taske like that to vndertake, To set downe boldly, brauely to inuent, In all high knowledge, surely excellent. The noble _Sidney_ with this last arose, That _Heroe_ for numbers, and for Prose. That throughly pac'd our language as to show, The plenteous _English_ hand in hand might goe With _Greek_ or _Latine_, and did first reduce Our tongue from _Lillies_ writing then in vse; 90 Talking of Stones, Stars, Plants, of fishes, Flyes, Playing with words, and idle Similies, As th' _English_, Apes and very Zanies be, Of euery thing, that they doe heare and see, So imitating his ridiculous tricks, They spake and writ, all like meere lunatiques. Then _Warner_ though his lines were not so trim'd, Nor yet his Poem so exactly lim'd And neatly ioynted, but the Criticke may Easily reprooue him, yet thus let me say; 100 For my old friend, some passages there be In him, which I protest haue taken me, With almost wonder, so fine, cleere, and new As yet they haue bin equalled by few. Neat _Marlow_ bathed in the _Thespian_ springs Had in him those braue translunary things, That the first Poets had, his raptures were, All ayre, and fire, which made his verses cleere, For that fine madnes still he did retaine, Which rightly should possesse a Poets braine. 110 And surely _Nashe_, though he a Proser were A branch of Lawrell yet deserues to beare, Sharply _Satirick_ was he, and that way He went, since that his being, to this day Few haue attempted, and I surely thinke Those wordes shall hardly be set downe with inke; Shall scorch and blast, so as his could, where he, Would inflict vengeance, and be it said of thee, _Shakespeare_, thou hadst as smooth a Comicke vaine, Fitting the socke, and in thy naturall braine, 120 As strong conception, and as Cleere a rage, As any one that trafiqu'd with the stage. Amongst these _Samuel Daniel_, whom if I May spake of, but to sensure doe denie, Onely haue heard some wisemen him rehearse, To be too much _Historian_ in verse; His rimes were smooth, his meeters well did close But yet his maner better fitted prose: Next these, learn'd _Johnson_, in this List I bring, Who had drunke deepe of the _Pierian_ spring, 130 Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer, And long was Lord here of the Theater, Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke, Whether in Poems rightly dramatique, Strong _Seneca_ or _Plautus_, he or they, Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away. Others againe here liued in my dayes, That haue of vs deserued no lesse praise For their translations, then the daintiest wit That on _Parnassus_ thinks, he highst doth sit, 140 And for a chaire may mongst the Muses call, As the most curious maker of them all; As reuerent _Chapman_, who hath brought to vs, _Musæus_, _Homer_ and _Hesiodus_ Out of the Greeke; and by his skill hath reard Them to that height, and to our tongue endear'd, That were those Poets at this day aliue, To see their bookes thus with vs to suruiue, They would think, hauing neglected them so long, They had bin written in the _English_ tongue. 150 And _Siluester_ who from the _French_ more weake, Made _Bartas_ of his sixe dayes labour speake In naturall _English_, who, had he there stayd, He had done well, and neuer had bewraid His owne inuention, to haue bin so poore Who still wrote lesse, in striuing to write more. Then dainty _Sands_ that hath to _English_ done, Smooth sliding _Ouid_, and hath made him run With so much sweetnesse and vnusuall grace, As though the neatnesse of the _English_ pace, 160 Should tell the Ietting _Lattine_ that it came But slowly after, as though stiff and lame. So _Scotland_ sent vs hither, for our owne That man, whose name I euer would haue knowne, To stand by mine, that most ingenious knight, My _Alexander_, to whom in his right, I want extreamely, yet in speaking thus I doe but shew the loue, that was twixt vs, And not his numbers which were braue and hie, So like his mind, was his clear Poesie, 170 And my deare _Drummond_ to whom much I owe For his much loue, and proud I was to know, His poesie, for which two worthy men, I _Menstry_ still shall loue, and _Hauthorne-den_. Then the two _Beamounts_ and my _Browne_ arose, My deare companions whom I freely chose My bosome friends; and in their seuerall wayes, Rightly borne Poets, and in these last dayes, Men of much note, and no lesse nobler parts, Such as haue freely tould to me their hearts, 180 As I have mine to them; but if you shall Say in your knowledge, that these be not all Haue writ in numbers, be inform'd that I Only my selfe, to these few men doe tye, Whose works oft printed, set on euery post, To publique censure subiect haue bin most; For such whose poems, be they nere so rare, In priuate chambers, that incloistered are, And by transcription daintyly must goe; As though the world vnworthy were to know, 190 Their rich composures, let those men that keepe These wonderous reliques in their iudgement deepe; And cry them vp so, let such Peeces bee Spoke of by those that shall come after me, I passe not for them: nor doe meane to run, In quest of these, that them applause haue wonne, Vpon our Stages in these latter dayes, That are so many, let them haue their bayes That doe deserue it; let those wits that haunt Those publique circuits, let them freely chaunt 200 Their fine Composures, and their praise pursue And so my deare friend, for this time adue.

Vpon the death of his incomparable _friend Sir_ HENRY RAYNSFORD _of_ CLIFFORD