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Which, being lightned with her beawties beme,
Are thereby fild with happie influence,
And lifted up above the worldës gaze,
To sing with Angels her immortall praize.

But all the rest, as borne of salvage brood,
And having beene with Acorns alwaies fed,
Can no whit savour this celestiall food,

But with base thoughts are into blindnesse led,
And kept from looking on the lightsome day:
For whome I waile and weepe all that I may.

Eftsoones such store of teares shee forth did powre,
As if shee all to water would have gone ;
And all her Sisters, seeing her sad stowre,
Did weep and waile, and made exceeding mone,
And all their learned instruments did breake:
The rest untold no living tongue can speake.

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THE RUINES OF ROME:

BY BELLAY. 1591.

YE heavenly Spirites, whose ashie cinders lie

Under deep ruines, with huge walls opprest,
But not your praise, the which shall never die
Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest;
If so be shrilling voyce of wight alive

May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell,
Then let those deep Abysses open rive,
That ye may understand my shreiking yell!
Thrice having seene under the heavens veale
Your toombs devoted compasse over all,
Thrice unto you with lowd voyce I appeale,
And for your antique furie here doo call,
The whiles that I with sacred horror sing
Your glorie, fairest of all earthly thing!

Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise,
And sharped steeples high shot up in ayre;
Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings blaze;
And Nylus nurslings their Pyramides faire;
The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie
Of Joves great Image in Olympus placed;
Mausolus worke will be the Carians glorie;
And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced;
The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth
The great Colosse, erect to Memorie;
And what els in the world is of like worth,
Some greater learned wit will magnifie.

But I will sing above all moniments

Seven Romane Hils, the worlds Seven Wonderments.

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Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome here seekest, 3 And nought of Rome in Rome perceivst at all,

These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest,
Olde Palaces, is that which Rome men call.
Beholde what wreake, what ruine, and what wast,
And how that she, which with her mightie powre
Tam'd all the world, hath tam'd herselfe at last;
The pray of Time, which all things doth devowre!
Rome now of Rome is th' onely funerall,
And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie;
Ne ought save Tyber hastning to his fall
Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie!
That which is firme doth flit and fall away,
And that is flitting doth abide and stay.

She, whose high top above the starres did sore,
One foote on Thetis, th' other on the Morning,
One hand on Scythia, th' other on the More,
Both heaven and earth in roundnesse compassing;
Jove fearing, least if she should greater growe,
The Giants old should once againe uprise,

Her whelm'd with hills, these Seven Hils, which be nowe
Tombes of her greatnes which did threate the skies:
Upon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal,
Upon her bellie th' antique Palatine,
Upon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal,
On her left hand the noysome Esquiline,

And Calian on the right; but both her feete
Mount Viminal and Aventine doo meete.

Who lists to see, what ever Nature, Arte,

And Heaven, could doo; O Rome, thee let him see,

In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte,

By that which but the picture is of thee!

Rome is no more: but, if the shade of Rome

May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight,
It's like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe
By Magicke skill out of eternall night:

The corpes
And her great spirite, rejoyned to the spirite

of Rome in ashes is entombed,

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Of this great masse, is in the same enwombed;
But her brave writings, which her famous merite
In spight of Time out of the dust doth reare,
Doo make her Idole through the world appeare.

Such as the Berecynthian Goddesse bright,
In her swifte charret with high turrets crownde,
Proud that so manie Gods she brought to light;
Such was this Citie in her good daies fownd:
This Citie, more than that great Phrygian mother
Renowm'd for fruite of famous progenie,
Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other,
But by her selfe, her equall match could see:
Rome onely might to Rome compared bee,
And onely Rome could make great Rome to tremble:
So did the Gods by heavenly doome decree,
That other earthlie power should not resemble

Her that did match the whole earths puissance,
And did her courage to the heavens advaunce.

Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights,
Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine,
Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights
The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine;

Triumphant Arcks, spyres, neighbours to the skie;
That you to see doth th' heaven it selfe appall;
Alas, by little ye to nothing flie,

The peoples fable, and the spoyle of all!

And though your frames do for a time make warre

Gainst Time, yet Time in time shall ruinate

Your workes and names, and your last reliques marre.

My sad desires, rest therefore moderate!

For if that Time make ende of things so sure,

It als will end the paine which I endure.

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Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu'd, 8 That one would weene that one sole Cities strength

Both land and sea in roundnes had survew'd,

To be the measure of her bredth and length:
This peoples vertue yet so fruitfull was
Of vertuous nephewes, that posteritie,
Striving in power their grandfathers to passe,
The lowest earth join'd to the heaven hie;
To th' end that, having all parts in their power,
Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight;
And that though Time doth Commonwealths devowre,
Yet no time should so low embase their hight,

That her head earth'd in her foundations deep
Should not her name and endles honour keep.

Ye cruell starres, and eke ye Gods unkinde,
Heaven envious, and bitter stepdame Nature!
Be it by fortune, or by course of kinde,
That ye doo weld th' affaires of earthlie creature ;
Why have your hands long sithence traveiled
To frame this world, that doth endure so long?
Or why were not these Romane palaces
Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong?
I say not, as the common voyce doth say,

That all things which beneath the Moone have being
Are temporall, and subject to decay :

But I say rather, though not all agreeing

With some that weene the contrarie in thought,
That all this Whole shall one day come to nought.

As that brave sonne of Aeson, which by charmes
Atcheiv'd the Golden Fleece in Colchid land,
Out of the earth engendred men of armes
Of Dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand;
So this brave Towne, that in her youthlie daies
An Hydra was of warriours glorious,

Did fill with her renowmed nurslings praise
The firie sunnes both one and other hous:
But they at last, there being then not living
An Hercules so ranke seed to represse,
Emongst themselves with cruell furie striving,

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