BEing one day at my window all alone, So many strange things hapned me to see, As much it grieueth me to thinke thereon. At my right hande, a Hinde appearde to me, So faire as mought the greatest God delite: Two egre Dogs dyd hir pursue in chace, Of which the one was black, the other white. With deadly force so in their cruell race They pinchte the haunches of this gentle beast, That at the last, and in shorte time, I spied, Vnder a rocke, where she (alas) opprest, Fell to the grounde, and there untimely dide. Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie, Oft makes me waile so harde a destinie. A Fter at Sea a tall Ship dyd appere, Made all of Heben and white Iuorie, The sailes of Golde, of Silke the tackle were: Milde was the winde, calme seemed the sea to be: The Skie eche where did shew full bright and faire. With riche treasures this gay ship fraighted was. But sodaine storme did so turmoyle the aire, And tombled up the sea, that she, alas, Strake on a rocke that under water lay. O great misfortune, O great griefe, I say, Thus in one moment to see lost and drownde So great riches, as lyke can not be founde. TH Hen heauenly branches did I see arise, Out of a fresh and lusty Laurell tree Amidde the yong grene wood. Of Paradise Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see, Suche store of birdes therein yshrouded were, Chaunting in shade their sundry melodie. My sprites were rauisht with these pleasures there. While on this Laurell fixed was mine eye, The Skie gan euery where to ouercast, And darkned was the welkin all aboute, When sodaine flash of heauens fire outbrast, And rent this royall tree quite by the roote. Which makes me much and euer to complaine, For no such shadow shal be had againe. I' W The homely Shepherde, nor the ruder cloune, I With purple wings and crest of golden hew, Straunge birde he was, wherby I thought anone, That of some heauenly wight I had the vew: Vntill he came unto the broken tree And to the spring that late deuoured was. What say I more? Eche thing at length we see Doth passe away: the Phœnix there, alas, Spying the tree destroyde, the water dride, Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine, And so forthwith in great despite he dide. For pitie and loue my heart yet burnes in paine. T last so faire a Ladie did I spie, A Thai in thinking on hir I burne and quake, On herbes and floures she walked pensiuely. MY Song thus now in thy Conclusions, Say boldly that these same six visions Do yelde vnto thy lorde a sweete request, Ere it be long within the earth to rest. Sonets. T was the time when rest the gift of Gods Sweetely sliding into the eyes of men, Doth drowne in the forgetfulnesse of slepe, The carefull trauailes of the painefull day: Then did a ghost appeare before mine eyes On that great riuers banke that runnes by Rome, And calling me then by my propre name, He bade me vpwarde vnto heauen looke. ON hill, a frame an hundred cubites hie T Hen did appeare to me a sharped spire Of diamant, ten feele eche way in square, Iustly proportionde vp vnto his height, So hie as mought an Archer reache with sight. V pon the top therof was set a pot Made of the mettall that we honour most. And in this golden vessell couched were The ashes of a mightie Emperour. V pon foure corners of the base there lay To beare the frame, foure great Lions of golde. A worthie tombe for such a worthie corps. Alas, nought in this worlde but griefe endures. A sodaine tempest from the heauen, I saw, With flushe stroke downe this noble monument. Iv Saw raisde vp on pillers of Iuorie, Whereof the bases were of richest golde, The chapters Alabaster, Christall frises, The double front of a triumphall arke. On eche side portraide was a victorie. With golden wings in habite of a Nymph. And set on hie vpon triumphing chaire, The auncient glorie of the Romane lordes. The worke did shewe it selfe not wrought by man, But rather made by his owne skilfull hande That forgeth thunder dartes for Ioue his sire. Let me no more see faire thing under heauen, Sith I have seene so faire a thing as this, With sodaine falling broken all to dust. Rauisht I was to see so rare a thing, I Saw the birde that dares beholde the Sunne, And saw the foule that shunnes the cherefull light Long was his beard, and side did hang his hair, He shed a water, whose outgushing streame Did tune hir plaint to falling riuers sound, Must still bring forth to rule this croked shore. Pon a hill I saw a kindled flame, The mightie Dragon gaue to hir his power. Which of incense of precious Ceder tree That which erstwhile so pleasaunt scent did yelde, I Saw a fresh spring rise out of a rocke, Clere as Christall against the Sunny beames, song, The seates and benches shone as Iuorie, An hundred Nymphes sate side by side about, T length, euen at the time when Morpheus Wearie to see th' inconstance of the heauens: While I was with so dreadfull sight afrayde, Saw an ugly beast come from the sea, Still freshly bleeding of a grieuous wounde. Saw a Woman sitting on a beast Before mine eyes, of Orenge colour hew: TH Hen might I see vpon a white horse set naunce, His head did shine with crounes set therupon. I Saw new Earth, new Heauen, sayde Sain And loe, the sea (quod he) is now no more. beare, A liuely streame, more cleere than Christall is, seat. There growes lifes fruite vnto the Churches good. TO THE CVRTEOVS the tvvo Authours. Vrteous Buyer, (for I write not to the enuious Carper) it was my good happe, as I interLetters following, by meanes of a faithfull friende, who with muche entreaty had procured the copying of them oute, at Immeritos handes. And I praye you, interprete it for your good happe, so soone after to come so easilye by them, throughe my meanes, who am onely to craue these twoo things at your handes, to thinke friendely of my friendly meaning, and to take them of me wyth this Presumption, In exiguo quandoque cespite latet lepus: and many pretious stones, thoughe in quantitie small, yet in qualitie and valewe are esteemed for great. The first, for a good familiar and sensible Letter, sure liketh me verye well, and gyueth some hope of good mettall in the Author, in whome I knowe myselfe to be very good partes otherwise. But shewe me, or Immerito, two Englyshe Letters in Printe, in all pointes equall to the other twoo, both for the matter it selfe, and also for the manner of handling, and saye, wee neuer sawe good Englishe Letter in our liues. And yet I am credibly certified by the foresaide faithfull and honest friende, that himselfe hathe written manye of the same stampe bothe to Courtiers and others, and some of them discoursing vppon matter of great waight and importance, wherein he is said, to be fully as sufficient and hable, as in these schollerly pointes of Learning. The whiche Letters and Discourses I would very gladly see in Writing, but more gladly in Printe, if it might be obtayned. And at this time to speake my conscience in a worde of these two following, I esteeme them for twoo of the rarest, and finest Treaties, as wel for ingenious deuising, as also for significant vttering, and cleanly conueying of his matter, that euer I read in this Tongue: and I hartily thanke God for bestowing vppon vs some such proper and hable men with their penne, as I hartily thanke the Author himselfe, for vsing his pleasaunte, and witty Talente, with so muche discretion, and with so little harme, contrarye to the veine of moste, whych haue thys singular conceyted grace in writing. If they had bene of their owne setting forth, I graunt you they might haue beene more curious, but beeyng so well, and so sufficiently done, as they are, in my simple iudgement, and hauing so many notable things in them, togither with so greate varietie of Learning, worth the reading, to pleasure you, and to helpe to garnish our Tongue, I feare their displeasure the lesse. And yet, if they thinke I haue made them a faulte, in not making them priuy to the Publi cation: I shall be alwayes readye to make them the beste amendes I can, any other friendly waye. Surely, I wishe them bothe hartilye wel in the Lord, and betake you and them to his mercifull gouernemente, hoping, that he will at his pleasure con uertesuchegood and diuine gifts as these, to the setting out of his own glory, and the bene fite of his Churche. This XIX. of Iune. 1580. Tour, and their vnfayned |