1 Way.

EPILOGUE.

Lo! I have made a Calender for every year, That steel in strength, and time in durance, shall outwear;

And, if I marked well the stars' revolution,

It shall continue till the world's dissolution,

To teach the ruder shepherd how to feed his sheep,
And from the falser's fraud his folded flock to keep.
Go, little Calender! thou hast a free passport;

Go but a lowly gate1 amongst the meaner sort: Chaucer. Dare not to match thy pipe with Tityrus2 his style, Nor with the Pilgrim that the ploughman play'd a while;

But follow them far off, and their high steps adore;
The better please, the worse despise; I ask no more.

MERCE NON MERCEDE.

(For recompense, but not for hire.)

* The pilgrim :' perhaps the author of the 'Visions of Pierce Plough

man.'

MUIOPOTMOS:*

OR,

THE FATE OF THE BUTTERFLY.

BY ED. SP.

DEDICATED TO THE MOST FAIR AND VIRTUOUS LADY,

THE LADY CAREY.+

1590.

* Written on a real occasion, but what, has not transpired.

+ The lady of Sir George Carey, who became Lord Hunsdon by the death of his father in 1596.

TO THE RIGHT WORTHY AND VIRTUOUS LADY,

THE LADY CAREY.

Most brave and bountiful Lady, for so excellent favours as I have received at your sweet hands, to offer these few leaves as in recompense, should be as to offer flowers to the gods for their divine benefits. Therefore I have determined to give myself wholly to you, as quite abandoned from myself, and absolutely vowed to your services: which in all right is ever held for full recompense of debt or damage, to have the person yielded. My person I wot well how little worth it is. But the faithful mind and humble zeal which I bear unto your Ladyship may perhaps be more of price, as may please you to account and use the poor service thereof; which taketh glory to advance your excellent parts and noble virtues, and to spend itself in honouring you; not so much for your great bounty to myself, which yet may not be unminded; nor for name or kindred's sake by you vouchsafed; being also regardable; as for that honourable name, which ye have by your brave deserts purchased to yourself, and spread in the mouths of all men: with which I have also presumed to grace my verses; and, under your name, to commend to the world this small Poem. The which beseeching your Ladyship to take in worth,* and of all things therein according to your wonted graciousness to make a mild construction, I humbly pray for your happiness. Your Ladyship, ever humbly,

Patiently, indulgently.

E. S.

MUIOPOTMOS:

OB,

THE FATE OF THE BUTTERFLY.

I SING of deadly dolorous debate,
Stirr'd up through wrathful Nemesis' despite,
Betwixt two mighty ones of great estate,
Drawn into arms, and proof of mortal fight,
Through proud ambition and heart-swelling hate,
Whilst neither could the other's greater might
And sdeignful scorn endure; that from small jar
Their wraths at length broke into open war.

The root whereof and tragical effect,
Vouchsafe, O thou the mournful'st Muse of nine, 10
That wont'st the tragic stage for to direct,
In funeral complaints and wailful tine,1
Reveal to me, and all the means detect,
Through which sad Clarion did at last decline
To lowest wretchedness: And is there then
Such rancour in the hearts of mighty men?

Of all the race of silver-winged Flies
Which do possess the empire of the air,

Betwixt the centred earth, and azure skies,
Was none more favourable, nor more fair,

1 Afflic

tion.

Whilst Heaven did favour his felicities,
Than Clarion, the eldest son and heir
Of Musearoll, and in his father's sight
Of all alive did seem the fairest wight.

With fruitful hope his aged breast he fed
Of future good, which his young toward years,
Full of brave courage and bold hardyhed
Above th' ensample of his equal peers,

1 Foretold. Did largely promise, and to him fore-red,1
(Whilst oft his heart did melt in tender tears,)
That he in time would sure prove such an one,
As should be worthy of his father's throne.

Mount.

The fresh young Fly, in whom the kindly fire
Of lustful youth began to kindle fast,
Did much disdain to subject his desire
To loathsome sloth, or hours in ease to wast;
But joy'd to range abroad in fresh attire,
Through the wide compass of the airy coast;
And, with unwearied wings, each part t' inquire
Of the wide rule of his renowned sire.

For he so swift and nimble was of flight,
That from this lower tract he dar'd to stie 2
Up to the clouds, and thence with pinions light
To mount aloft unto the crystal sky,

To view the workmanship of heaven's height:
Whence down descending he along would fly
Upon the streaming rivers, sport to find;
And oft would dare to tempt the troublous wind.

So on a summer's day, when season mild
With gentle calm the world had quieted,