INDEX OF FIRST LINES

OF MINOR POEMS.

A Gentle Shepheard borne in Arcady.
A mighty Lyon, Lord of all the wood
A Shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
After at sea a tall ship did appeare

After long stormes and tempests sad assay
After so long a race as I haue run
Ah Colin, whether on the lowly plaine
Ah for pittie, wil rancke Winters rage
Ah whither, Loue, wilt thou now carrie mee
Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart
All that is perfect, which th'heauen beautefies
All that which Aegypt whilome did deuise
An hideous Dragon, dreadfull to behold
And ye, braue Lord, whose goodly personage.
Arion, when through tempests cruel wracke
As Diane hunted on a day

As men in Summer fearles passe the foord

As that braue sonne of Aeson, which by charmes
As then, no winde at all there blew

At last so faire a Ladie did I spie

At length, euen at the time, when Morpheus
Ay me, to whom shall I my case complaine

Be nought dismayd that her vnmoued mind
Being my selfe captyued here in care
Being one day at my window all alone

Bellay, first garland of free Poësie

Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile

Come forth ye Nymphes come forth, forsake your watry bowres
Comming to kisse her lyps, (such grace I found)

Cuddie, for shame hold vp thy heauye head

Darke is the day, when Phœbus face is shrowded
Dayly when I do seeke and sew for peace
Diggon Dauie, I bidde her god day

Doe I not see that fayrest ymages

Faire proud now tell me why should faire be proud
Fayre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure
Fayre cruell, why are ye so fierce and cruell?
Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart

I but once loued before, and shee forsooth was a Susanne

I loy to see how in your drawen work
I saw a fresh spring rise out of a rocke
I saw a Phoenix in the wood alone
I saw a riuer swift, whose fomy billowes
I saw a spring out of a rocke forth rayle
I saw a Wolfe vnder a rockie caue

I saw a Woman sitting on a beast

I saw an vgly beast come from the sea

I saw in secret to my Dame .

I saw new Earth, new Heauen, sayde Saint Iohn

I saw raisde vp on pillers of Iuorie

I saw raysde vp on yuorie pillers tall

I saw the Bird that can the Sun endure

I saw the birde that dares beholde the Sunne.

I sing of deadly dolorous debate

If so be goods encrease, then dayly encreaseth a goods friends

If the blinde furie, which warres breedeth oft.

In Summers day, when Phœbus fairly shone

In that proud port, which her so goodly graceth
In vain I thinke right honourable Lord
In vaine I seeke and sew to her for grace

In youth before I waxed old .
Innocent paper, whom too cruell hand
Ioy of my life, full oft for louing you
Is it her nature or is it her will

Is not thilke same a goteheard prowde
Is not thilke the mery moneth of May ?
It chaunced me on day beside the shore
It fell vpon a holly eue

It was the month, in which the righteous Maide
It was the time, when rest soft sliding downe.
It was the time when rest the gift of Gods

Lackyng my loue I go from place to place

522

Loue is a thing more fell, than full of Gaule, than of Honny

627

Loue, lift me vp vpon thy golden wings

593

Loue, that long since hast to thy mighty powre

586

Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace

573

Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde
Lyke as the Culuer on the bared bough

568

577

Magnificke Lord, whose vertues excellent

411

More then most faire, full of the liuing fire

Mark when she smiles with amiable cheare
Mars shaming to haue giuen so great head

Maruell not, what I meane to send these Verses at Euensong
Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it

Me thought I saw the graue, where Laura lay

Most glorious Lord of lyfe, that on this day
Most happy letters fram'd by skilfull trade
Most Noble Lord the pillar of my life.
Much richer then that vessell seem'd to bee
My hungry eyes through greedy couetize
My loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre
My Song thus now in thy Conclusions.

Ne may I, without blot of endlesse blame

413

Of this worlds Theatre in which we stay

New yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate

Noble Alexander, when he came to the tombe of Achilles
No otherwise than raynie cloud, first fed
Nor the swift furie of the flames aspiring

Not the like Virgin againe, in Asia, or Afric, or Europe

O that I had the Thracian Poets harpe

O warie wisedome of the man, that would

Of Honny, and of Gaule, in Loue there is store

Oft when my spirit doth spred herbolder winges

On high hills top I saw a stately frame

On hill, aframe an hundred cubites hie

One day as I vnwarily did gaze

One day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies

One day I wrote her name vpon the strand

564

575

One day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe

Our merry dayes, by theeuish bit are pluckt, and torne away

Rapt with the rage of mine owne rauisht thought
Receiue most noble Lord a simple taste
Receiue most Noble Lord in gentle gree
Redoubted Lord, in whose corageous mind
Rehearse to me ye sacred Sisters nine.
Remembraunce of that most Heroicke spirit
Renowmed Lord, that for your worthinesse
Retourne agayne my forces late dismayd
Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire

See how the stubborne damzell doth depraue.

See yee the blindefoulded pretie God, that feathered Archer
Shall I then silent be or shall I speake ?

She, whose high top aboue the starres did sore
Shepheards that wont on pipes of oaten reed.
Sic malus egregium, sic non inimicus Amicum
Silence augmenteth grief, writing encreaseth rage
Since Galateo came in, and Tuscanisme gan vsurpe
Since I did leaue the presence of my loue

567

611

569

509

547

637

559

625

Since I haue lackt the comfort of that light

So long as loues great Bird did make his flight

So oft as homeward I from her depart

So oft as I her beauty doe behold

Soone after this I saw an Elephant

Soone said, soone writ, soon learnd: soone trimly done in prose, or verse

That which I eate, did I ioy, and that which I greedily gorged

The shepheards boy (best knowen by that name)
The souerayne beauty which I doo admyre
The weary yeare his race now hauing run
The world that cannot deeme of worthy things
Then all astonied with this mighty ghoast
Then all astonned with this nightly ghost
Then did a sharped spyre of Diamond bright
Then did appeare to me a sharped spire
Then heauenly branches did I see arise
Then I behelde the faire Dodonian tree

Then might I see vpon a white horse set

Then was the faire Dodonian tree far seene

There grewe an aged Tree on the greene

These heapes of stones, these old wals which ye see

These pleasant dayes, and Monthes, and yeares, by stelth do passe apace

They that in course of heauenly spheares are skild
Thilke same Kidde (as I can well deuise)

This holy season fit to fast and pray
Thomalin, why sytten we soe.

Those prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise
Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome her seekest
Thou that at Rome astonisht dost behold
Thrise happie she, that is so well assured

Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu'd

To all those happy blessings which ye haue
To be wize, and eke to Loue

To looke vpon a worke of rare deuise.

To praise thy life, or waile thy worthie death
To thee that art the sommers Nightingale
To you right noble Lord, whose carefull brest .
Toward the sea turning my troubled eye
Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes .

Venemous tongue, tipt with vile adders sting .

Vertue sendeth a man to Renowne, Fame lendeth Aboundaunce

Vnhappie Verse, the witnesse of my vnhappie state

Vnquiet thought, whom at the first I bred

Vnrighteous Lord of loue, what law is this

Vp then Melpomene thou mournefulst Muse of nyne
Vpon a day as loue lay sweetly slumbring
Vpon a hill I saw a kindled flame
Vpon an hill a bright flame did I see.

Was it a dreame, or did I see it playne
Was it the worke of nature or of Art.
We now haue playde (Augustus) wantonly
Weake is th'assurance that weake flesh reposeth

What euer man he be, whose heauie minde

What guyle is this, that those her golden tresses

What might I call this Tree? A Laurell? O bonny Laurell

What time the Romaine Empire bore the raine

When I behold that beauties wonderment

When I behold this tickle trustles state
When my abodes prefixed time is spent
When stout Achilles heard of Helens rape