To the Right Honourable and most virtuous Lady,
the Countess of Pembroke.
REMEMBRANCE of that most heroic spirit,*
The Heaven's pride, the glory of our days,
Which now triumpheth (through immortal merit
Of his brave virtues) crown'd with lasting bays,
Of heavenly bliss and everlasting praise;
Who first my Muse did lift out of the floor,
To sing his sweet delights in lowly lays;
Bids me, most noble Lady, to adore
His goodly image living evermore
In the divine resemblance of
your face;
Which with your virtues ye embellish more,
And native beauty deck with heavenly grace:
For his, and for your own especial sake,
Vouchsafe from him this token in good worth1 to
To the most virtuous and beautiful Lady, the Lady
NE2 may I, without blot of endless blame,
You, fairest Lady, leave out of this place;
But, with remembrance of your gracious name,
(Wherewith that courtly garland most ye grace
And deck the world,) adorn these verses base:
Not that these few lines can in them comprise
Those glorious ornaments of heavenly grace,
Wherewith ye triumph over feeble eyes
* Sir Philip Sidney, her brother.- 'Carew:' supposed to be the same as Lady Carey, whose maiden name was Spenser, and who was related to the poet.
And in subduéd hearts do tyrannise;
(For thereunto doth need a golden quill
And silver leaves, them rightly to devise ;)
But to make humble present of good will:
Which, whenas timely means it purchase may,
In ampler wise itself will forth display.
To all the gracious and beautiful Ladies in the
Court.
THE Chian painter, when he was required
To pourtray Venus in her perfect hue;
To make his work more absolute, desired
Of all the fairest maids to have the view.
Much more me needs, (to draw the semblant1 true,
Of Beauty's Queen, the world's sole wonderment,)
To sharp my sense with sundry beauties' view,
And steal from each some part of ornament.
If all the world to seek I overwent,
A fairer crew yet no where could I see
Then that brave Court doth to mine eye present;
That the world's pride seems gathered there to be. Of each a part I stole by cunning theft:
Forgive it me, fair dames, sith2 less ye have not left. Since.
THE LEGEND OF THE KNIGHT OF THE RED CROSS, OR
OF HOLINESS.
Lo! I, the man whose Muse whylome1 did mask,
As time her taught, in lowly shepherds' weeds,
Am now enforc'd, a far unfitter task,
For trumpets stern to change mine oaten reeds,
And sing of Knights' and Ladies' gentle deeds;
Whose praises having slept in silence long,
Me, all too mean, the sacred Muse areeds 2
To blazon broad amongst her learned throng:
Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my
song.
4 Gloriana, the
Faerie
Queene.
Help then, O holy virgin, chief of Nine,
Thy weaker novice to perform thy will;
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne3
The antique rolls, which there lie hidden still,
Of Faerie Knights, and fairest Tanaquill, 4
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffer'd so much
That I must rue1 his undeservéd wrong:
O, help thou my weak wit, and sharpen my dull tongue!
And thou, most dreaded imp2 of highest Jove,
Fair Venus' son, that with thy cruel dart
At that good Knight so cunningly didst rove,3
That glorious fire it kindled in his heart;
Lay now thy deadly heben1 bow apart,
And, with thy mother mild, come to mine aid;
3 Shoot
with a
rover,
a sort of
arrow.
4 Ebony.
Come, both; and with you bring triumphant Mart,5 5 Mars. In loves and gentle jollities array'd,
After his murd'rous spoils and bloody rage allay'd.
And with them eke, O Goddess heavenly bright, Also. Mirror of grace and majesty divine,
Great Lady of the greatest isle, whose light
Like Phoebus' lamp throughout the world doth shine,
Shed thy fair beams into my feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile,
To think of that true glorious type of thine,
The argument of mine afflicted" style:
The which to hear vouchsafe, O dearest Dread, a
while.
8 Object of
reverence; so in Milton 'our Living Dread.'
5 Air, or mien.
6 Dreaded.
The Patron of true Holiness
Foul Error doth defeat;
Hypocrisy, him to entrap,
Doth to his home entreat.
A GENTLE Knight was pricking1 on the plain,
Ycladd2 in mighty arms and silver shield,
Wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain,
The cruel marks of many a bloody field;
Yet arms till that time did he never wield:
His angry steed did chide his foaming bit,
As much disdaining to the curb to yield:
Full jolly knight he seem'd, and fair did sit,
As one for knightly jousts and fierce encounters fit.
And on his breast a bloody cross he bore,
The dear remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore,
And dead, as living ever, him ador'd:
Upon his shield the like was also scor'd,
For sov'reign hope, which in his help he had.
Right, faithful, true he was in deed and word;
But of his cheere 5 did seem too solemn sad;
Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad."
Upon a great adventure he was bond,7
That greatest Gloriana to him gave,
(That greatest glorious queen of Faerie lond,8)
To win him worship, and her grace to have,
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