Who now shall give unto

my heavie eyes A well of teares, that all may overflow? Or where shall I find lamentable cryes,

And mournfull tunes, enough my griefe to show?
Helpe, O thou Tragick Muse, me to devise
Notes sad enough, t' expresse this bitter throw :
For loe, the drerie stownd is now arrived,
That of all happines hath us deprived.

The luckles Clarion, whether cruell Fate
Or wicked Fortune faultles him misled,
Or some ungracious blast out of the gate
Of Aeoles raine perforce him drove on hed,
Was (O sad hap and howre unfortunate!)
With violent swift flight forth caried
Into the cursed cobweb, which his foe
Had framed for his finall overthroe.

There the fond Flie, entangled, strugled long,
Himselfe to free thereout; but all in vaine.
For, striving more, the more in laces strong
Himselfe he tide, and wrapt his wingës twaine
In lymie snares the subtill loupes among;
That in the ende he breathlesse did remaine,
And, all his yongthly forces idly spent,
Him to the mercie of th' avenger lent.

Which when the greisly tyrant did espie,
Like a grimme Lyon rushing with fierce might
Out of his den, he seized greedelie

On the resistles pray; and, with fell spight,
Under the left wing strooke his weapon slie
Into his heart, that his deepe-groning spright
In bloodie streames forth fled into the aire,
His bodie left the spectacle of care.

“BRITTAIN'S IDA.

WRITTEN BY THAT RENOWNED POET, EDMOND SPENCER.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR THOMAS WALKLEY,

AND ARE TO BE SOLD AT HIS SHOP AT THE EAGLE AND

CHILD IN BRITTAINES BURSSE.

1628." 12mo.

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE LADY, MARY,

DAUGHTER TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE, GEORGE,

M

DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

OST noble Lady! I have presumed to present this Poëm to your honourable hand, encouraged onely by the worth of the famous Author, (for I am certainely assured, by the ablest and most knowing men, that it must be a worke of Spencers, of whom it were pitty that any thing should bee lost,) and doubting not but your Lady-ship will graciously accept, though from a meane hand, this humble present, since the man that offers it is a true honourer and observer of your selfe and your princely family, and shall ever remaine

The humblest of your devoted servants,

THOMAS WALKLEY.

S'

MARTIAL.

Accipe facundi Culicem studiose Maronis,
Ne nugis positis, arma virûmque canas.

EE here that stately Muse, that erst could raise
In lasting numbers great Elizaes praise,

And dresse fair Vertue in so rich attire,

That even her foes were forced to admire
And court her heavenly beauty! Shee that taught
The Graces grace, and made the Vertues thought
More vertuous than before, is pleased here
To slacke her serious flight, and feed your eare
With love's delightsome toys: doe not refuse
These harmlesse sports; 'tis learned Spencer's Muse;
But think his loosest poëms worthier then
The serious follies of unskillfull men.

BRITTAIN'S IDA.

CANTO I.

THE ARGUMENT.

The youthly Shepheards wonning here,
And Beauties rare displayd, appeare ;
What exercise hee chiefe affects,
His name and scornefull love neglects.

G

N Ida vale (who knowes not Ida vale?)

IN

When harmlesse Troy yet felt not Græcian spite, An hundred shepheards wonn'd, and in the dale, While their faire flockes the three-leav'd pastures bite, The shepheards boyes with hundred sportings light, Gave winges unto the times too speedy hast:

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Ah, foolish Lads! that strove with lavish wast
So fast to spend the time that spends your time as fast.

Among the rest, that all the rest excel'd,

A dainty boy there wonn'd, whose harmlesse yeares
Now in their freshest budding gently sweld
His nimph-like face nere felt the nimble sheeres,
Youth's downy blossome through his cheeke appeares;
His lovely limbes (but love he quite discarded)
Were made for play (but he no play regarded)
And fit love to reward, and with love be rewarded.

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