The Printer to the
Gentle Reader.
INCE my late setting foorth of the meditations of the worlds vanitie, verie graue Faerie Queene, finding that it hath found and profitable. To which effect I vnderstand a fauourable passage amongst you; I haue that he besides wrote sundrie others, namelie sithence endeuoured by all good meanes (for Ecclesiastes, and Canticum canticorum tranthe better encrease and accomplishment of slated, A senights slumber, The hell of louers, your delights,) to get into my handes such his Purgatorie, being all dedicated to Ladies; smale Poemes of the same Authors; as I heard so as it may seeme he ment them all to one were disperst abroad in sundrie hands, and not volume. Besides some other Pamphlets looselie easie to bee come by, by himselfe; some of scattered abroad: as The dying Pellican, The them hauing bene diuerslie imbeziled and pur-howers of the Lord, The sacrifice of a sinner, loyned from him, since his departure ouer Sea. Of the which I haue by good meanes gathered togeather these fewe parcels present, which I haue caused to bee imprinted altogeather, for that they al seeme to containe like matter of argument in them: being all complaints and
The seuen Psalmes, &c. which when I can either by himselfe, or otherwise attaine too, I meane likewise for your fauour sake to set foorth. In the meane time praying you gentle to accept of these, and graciouslie to entertaine the new Poet, I take leaue.
To the right Noble and beauti-
full Ladie, the La. Marie
Countesse of Pembrooke.
OST Honourable and bountifull Ladie, | me: for that I haue not shewed anie thankefull there bee long sithens deepe sowed in my remembrance towards him or any of them; but brest, the seede of most entire loue and humble suffer their names to sleep in silence and forgetaffection unto that most braue Knight your noble fulnesse. Whome chieflie to satisfie, or els to brother deceased; which taking roote began in his auoide that fowle blot of vnthankefulnesse, I haue life time somewhat to bud forth and to shew conceived this small Poeme, intituled by a generall themselues to him, as then in the weakenes of name of the worlds Ruines: yet speciallie intheir first spring: And would in their riper tended to the renowming of that noble race, from strength (had it pleased high God till then to which both you and he sprong, and to the eternizdrawe out his daies) spired forth fruit of more ing of some of the chiefe of them late deceased. perfection. But since God hath disdeigned the The which I dedicate vnto your La. as whome it world of that most noble Spirit, which was the most speciallie concerneth: and to whome hope of all learned men, and the Patron of my I acknowledge my selfe bounden, by manie young Muses; togeather with him both their hope of anie further fruit was cut off: and also the tender delight of those their first blossoms nipped and quite dead. Yet sithens my late cumming into England, some frends of mine (which might much preuaile with me, and indeede commaund me) knowing with howe straight bandes of duetie I was tied to him: as also bound vnto that noble house, (of which the chiefe hope then rested in him) haue sought to reuiue them by vpbraiding
singular fauours and great graces.
I pray for your Honourable
happinesse: and so
humblie kisse your
handes.
Your Ladiships euer
humblie at commaund.
E. S.
T chaunced me on day beside the shore
Iof siluer streaming Thamesis to bee,
Nigh where the goodly Verlame stood of yore,
Of which there now remaines no memorie,
Nor anie little moniment to see,
By which the trauailer, that fares that way,
This once was she, may warned be to say.
There on the other side, I did behold
A Woman sitting sorrowfullie wailing,
Rending her yeolow locks, like wyrie golde, 10
About her shoulders careleslie downe trailing,
And streames of teares from her faire eyes forth
railing.
In her right hand a broken rod she held,
Which towards heauen shee seemd on high to
weld.
Whether she were one of that Riuers Nymphes,
Which did the losse of some dere loue lament,
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Ah what delight (quoth she) in earthlie thing,
Or comfort can I wretched creature haue?
Whose happines the heauens enuying,
From highest staire to lowest step me draue,
And haue in mine owne bowels made my graue,
That of all Nations now I am forlorne,
The worlds sad spectacle, and fortunes scorne.
Much was I mooued at her piteous plaint,
And felt my heart nigh riuen in my brest
With tender ruth to see her sore constraint,
That shedding teares awhile I still did rest,
And after did her name of her request.
Name haue I none (quoth she) nor anie being,
Bereft of both by Fates vniust decreeing.
I was that Citie, which the garland wore
Of Britaines pride, deliuered vnto me
By Romane Victors, which it wonne of yore;
Though nought at all but ruines now I bee,
And lye in mine owne ashes, as ye see:
Verlame I was; what bootes it that I was
Sith now I am but weedes and wastfull gras ?
O vaine worlds glorie, and vnstedfast state
Of all that liues, on face of sinfull earth,
Which from their first vntill their vtmost
date
Tast no one hower of happines or merth, But like as at the ingate of their berth, They crying creep out of their mothers woomb, So wailing backe go to their wofull toomb. Why then dooth flesh, a bubble glas of breath, 50
What of the Persian Beares outragiousnesse,
Whose memorie is quite worne out with yeares?
Who of the Grecian Libbard now ought heares,
That ouerran the East with greedie powre, 69
And left his whelps their kingdomes to deuoure?
And where is that same great seuen headded
beast,
Hunt after honour and aduauncement vaine,
And reare a trophee for deuouring death,
With so great labour and long lasting paine,
As if his daies for euer should remaine?
Sith all that in this world is great or gaie,
Doth as a vapour vanish, and decaie.
Looke backe, who list, vnto the former ages,
And call to count, what is of them become:
Where be those learned wits and antique Sages,
Which of all wisedome knew the perfect somme:
Where those great warriors, which did ouer-
That made all nations vassals of her pride,
To fall before her feete at her beheast,
And in the necke of all the world did ride?
Where doth she all that wondrous welth nowe
hide?
The world with conquest of their might and maine,
With her own weight down pressed now shee lies,
And made one meare of th'earth and of their raine?
What nowe is of th' Assyrian Lyonesse,
Of whome no footing now on earth appeares ?
And by her heaps her hugenesse testifies.
O Rome thy ruine I lament and rue,
And in thy fall my fatall ouerthrowe,
That whilom was, whilst heauens with equall
Deignd to behold me, and their gifts bestowe,
The picture of thy pride in pompous shew:
And of the whole world as thou wast the
Empresse,
So I of this small Northerne world was Princesse.
To tell the beawtie of my buildings fayre,
Adornd with purest golde, and precious stone;
To tell my riches, and endowments rare
That by my foes are now all spent and gone :
To tell my forces matchable to none,
Were but lost labour, that few would beleeue,
And with rehearsing would me more agreeue.
High towers, faire temples, goodly theaters,
Strong walls, rich porches, princelie pallaces,
Large streetes, braue houses, sacred sepulchers,
Sure gates, sweete gardens, stately galleries,
Wrought with faire pillours, and fine imageries,
All those (O pitie) now are turnd to dust,
And ouergrowen with blacke obliuions rust.
Theretoo for warlike power, and peoples store,
In Britannie was none to match with mee, 100
That manie often did abie full sore:
Ne Troynouant, though elder sister shee,
With my great forces might compared bee;
That stout Pendragon to his perill felt,
Who in a siege seauen yeres about me dwelt.
But long ere this Bunduca Britonnesse
Her mightie hoast against my bulwarkes
brought,
Bunduca, that victorious conqueresse,
That lifting vp her braue heroick thought
Boue womens weaknes, with the Romanes
fought,
Fought, and in field against them thrice preuailed:
Yet was she foyld, when as she me assailed.
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And where the christall Thamis wont to slide
In siluer channell, downe along the Lee,
About whose flowrie bankes on either side
A thousand Nymphes, with mirthfull iollitee
Were wont to play, from all annoyance tree;
There now no riuers course is to be seene, 139
But moorish fennes, and marshes euer greene.
Seemes, that that gentle Riuer for great griefe
Of my mishaps, which oft I to him plained;
Or for to shunne the horrible mischiefe,
With which he saw my cruell foes me pained,
And his pure streames with guiltles blood oft
stained,
From my vnhappie neighborhood farre fled,
And his sweete waters away with him led.
There also where the winged ships were seene
In liquid waues to cut their fomie waie, 149
And thousand Fishers numbred to haue been,
In that wide lake looking for plenteous praie
Of fish, which they with baits vsde to betraie,
Is now no lake, nor anie fishers store,
Nor euer ship shall saile there anie more.
They all are gone, and all with them is gone,
Ne ought to me remaines, but to lament
My long decay, which no man els doth mone,
And mourne my fall with dolefull dreriment.
Yet it is comfort in great languishment,
To be bemoned with compassion kinde,
And mitigates the anguish of the minde.
But me no man bewaileth, but in game, Ne sheddeth teares from lamentable eie: Nor anie liues that mentioneth my name To be remembred of posteritie, Saue One that maugre fortunes iniurie, And times decay, and enuies cruell tort, Hath writ my record in true-seeming sort. Cambden the nourice of antiquitie, And lanterne vnto late succeeding age, To see the light of simple veritie, Buried in ruines, through the great outrage Of her owne people, led with warlike rage. Cambden, though time all moniments obscure, Yet thy iust labours euer'shall endure. But whie (vnhappie wight) doo I thus crie, And grieue that my remembrance quite is raced. Out of the knowledge of posteritie, And all my antique moniments defaced? Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed, 180 So soone as fates their vitall thred haue shorne, Forgotten quite as they were neuer borne. It is not long, since these two eyes beheld A mightie Prince, of most renowned race, Whom England high in count of honour held, And greatest ones did sue to gaine his grace Of greatest ones he greatest in his place, Sate in the bosome of his Soueraine, And Right and loyall did his word maintaine. I saw him die, I saw him die, as one Of the meane people, and brought foorth on beare.
I saw him die, and no man left to mone His dolefull fate, that late him loued deare. Scarce anie left to close his eylids neare; Scarce anie left vpon his lips to laie The sacred sod, or Requiem to saie. O trustlesse state of miserable men, That builde your blis on hope of earthly thing, And vainly thinke your selues halfe happie then, When painted faces with smooth flattering 200 Doo fawne on you, and your wide praises sing, And when the courting masker louteth lowe, Him true in heart and trustie to you trow. All is but fained, and with oaker dide, That euerie shower will wash and wipe away, All things doo change that vnder heauen abide, And after death all friendship doth decaie. Therefore what euer man bearst worldlie sway, Liuing, on God, and on thy selfe relie ; For when thou diest, all shall with thee die. 210 He now is dead, and all is with him dead, Saue what in heauens storehouse he vplaid: His hope is faild, and come to passe his dread, And euill men, now dead, his deeds vpbraid: Spite bites the dead, that liuing neuer baid.
He now is gone, the whiles the Foxe is crept
Into the hole, the which the Badger swept.
He now is dead, and all his glorie gone,
And all his greatnes vapoured to nought,
That as a glasse vpon the water shone,
Which vanisht quite, so soone as it was sought.
His name is worne alreadie out of thought,
Ne anie Poet seekes him to reuiue;
Yet manie Poets honourd him aliue.
Ne doth his Colin, carelesse Colin Cloute,
Care now his idle bagpipe vp to raise,
Ne tell his sorrow to the listning rout
Of shepherd groomes, which wont his songs to
praise :
Praise who so list, yet I will him dispraise,
Vntill he quite him of this guiltie blame: 230
Wake shepheards boy, at length awake for
And who so els did goodnes by him gaine,
And who so els his bounteous minde did trie,
Whether he shepheard be, or shepheards swaine,
(For manie did, which doo it now denie)
Awake, and to his Song a part applie:
And I, the whilest you mourne for his decease,
Will with my mourning plaints your plaint
increase.
He noble bud, his Grandsires liuelie hayre,
Vnder the shadow of thy countenaunce
Now ginnes to shoote vp fast, and flourish fayre
In learned artes and goodlie gouernaunce, 270
That him to highest honour shall aduaunce.
Braue Impe of Bedford, grow apace in bountie,
And count of wisedome more than of thy
Countie.
He dyde, and after him his brother dyde, 239
His brother Prince, his brother noble Peere,
That whilste he liued, was of none enuyde,
And dead is now, as liuing, counted deare,
Deare vnto all that true affection beare:
But vnto thee most deare, O dearest Dame,
His noble Spouse, and Paragon of fame.
He whilest he liued, happie was through thee,
And being dead is happie now much more;
Liuing, that lincked chaunst with thee to bee,
And dead, because him dead thou dost adore
As liuing, and thy lost deare loue deplore. 250
So whilst that thou, faire flower of chastitie,
Dost liue, by thee thy Lord shall neuer die.
Thy Lord shall neuer die, the whiles this verse
Shall liue, and surely it shall liue for euer :
For ever it shall liue, and shall rehearse
His worthie praise, and vertues dying neuer,
Though death his soule doo from his bodie seuer.
And thou thy selfe herein shalt also liue;
Such grace the heauens doo to my verses giue.
Ne shall his sister, ne thy father die, 260
Thy father, that good Earle of rare renowne,
And noble Patrone of weake pouertie;
Whose great good deeds in countrey and in towne
Haue purchast him in heauen an happie crowne;
Where he now liueth in eternall blis,
And left his sonne t'ensue those steps of his.
Ne may I let thy husbands sister die,
That goodly Ladie, sith she eke did spring
Out of this stocke, and famous familie,
Whose praises I to future age doo sing,
And foorth out of her happie womb did bring
The sacred brood of learning and all honour;
In whom the heauens powrde all their gifts
vpon her.
Most gentle spirite breathed from aboue,
Out of the bosome of the makers blis,
In whom all bountie and all vertuous loue
Appeared in their natiue propertis,
And did enrich that noble breast of his,
With treasure passing all this worldes worth,
Worthie of heauen it selfe, which brought it
forth.
His blessed spirite full of power diuine
And influence of all celestiall grace,
Loathing this sinfull earth and earthlie slime,
Fled backe too soone vnto his natiue place, 291
Too soone for all that did his loue embrace,
Too soone for all this wretched world, whom he
Robd of all right and true nobilitie.
Yet ere his happie soule to heauen went
Out of this fleshlie goale, he did deuise
Vnto his heauenlie maker to present
His bodie, as a spotles sacrifise;
And chose, that guiltie hands of enemies
Should powre forth th'offring of his guiltles
blood:
So life exchanging for his countries good.
O noble spirite, liue there euer blessed,
The worlds late wonder, and the heauens
new ioy,
Liue euer there, and leaue me here distressed
With mortall cares, and cumbrous worlds anoy.
But where thou dost that happines enioy,
Bid me, O bid me quicklie come to thee,
That happie there I maie thee alwaies see.
Yet whilest the fates affoord me vitall breath,
I will it spend in speaking of thy praise, 310
And sing to thee, vntill that timelie death
By heauens doome doo ende my earthlie daies:
Thereto doo thou my humble spirite raise,
And into me that sacred breath inspire,
Which thou there breathest perfect and entire.
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