NORABLE AND MOST VER-
tuous Ladies, the Ladie Margaret Countesse
of Cumberland, and the Ladie Marie
Countesse of Warwicke.
Auing in the greener times of my youth, praise of Loue and beautie, and finding that the same too much pleased those of like age and disposition, which being too vehemently caried with that kind of affection, do rather sucke out poyfon to their strong passion, then hony to their honest delight, I was moued by the one of you two most excellent Ladies, to call in the same. But being vnable so to doe, by reason that many copies thereof were formerly scattered abroad, I resolued at least to amend, and by way of retractation to reforme them, making in stead of those two Hymnes of earthly or naturall love and beautie, two others of heauenly and celestiall. The which I doe dedicate ioyntly unto you two honorable
sisters, as to the most excellent and rare orna
one and the other kinde, humbly beseeching you
to vouchsafe the patronage of them, and to accept
this my humble seruice, in lieu of the great graces
and honourable fauours which ye dayly shew
vnto me, untill such time as I may by better
meanes yeeld you some more notable testimonie
of my thankfull mind and dutifull deuotion.
And even so I pray for your happinesse.
Greenwich this first of September.
1596.
Your Honors most bounden euer
in all humble seruice.
AN HYMNE IN
HONOVR OF
LOVE.
Oue, that long since hast to thy mighty powre, | Come then, O come, thou mightie God of loue, Perforce subdude my poore captiued hart, And raging now therein with restlesse stowre, Doest tyrannize in eueric weaker part; Faine would I seeke to ease my bitter smart, By any seruice I might do to thee,
Or ought that else might to thee pleasing bee.
And now t'asswage the force of this new flame,
And make thee more propitious in my need,
I meane to sing the praises of thy name,
And thy victorious conquests to areed;
By which thou madest many harts to bleed
Of mighty Victors, with wyde wounds em-
brewed,
And by thy cruell darts to thee subdewed.
Onely I feare my wits enfeebled late,
Through the sharpe sorrowes, which thou hast
me bred,
Should faint, and words should faile me, to relate
The wondrous triumphs of thy great godhed.
But if thou wouldst vouchsafe to ouerspred
Me with the shadow of thy gentle wing,
I should enabled be thy actes to sing.
Out of thy siluer bowres and secret blisse,
Where thou doest sit in Venus lap aboue,
Bathing thy wings in her ambrosiall kisse,
That sweeter farre then any Nectar is;
Come softly, and my feeble breast inspire
With gentle furie, kindled of thy fire.
And ye sweet Muses, which haue often proued
The piercing points of his auengefull darts;
And ye faire Nimphs, which oftentimes haue
loued
The cruell worker of your kindly smarts,
Prepare your selues, and open wide your harts,
For to receive the triumph of your glorie,
That made you merie oft, when ye were sorie.
And ye faire blossomes of youths wanton breed,
Which in the conquests of your beautie bost,
Wherewith your louers feeble eyes you feed,
But sterue their harts, that needeth nourture
most,
39
Prepare your selues, to march amongst his host,
And all the way this sacred hymne do sing,
Made in the honor of your Soueraigne king.
Reat god of might, that reignest in the So euer since they firmely haue remained,
And all the bodie to thy hest doest frame,
Victor of gods, subduer of mankynd,
That doest the Lions and fell Tigers tame,
Making their cruell rage thy scornefull game,
And in their roring taking great delight;
Who can expresse the glorie of thy might?
Or who aliue can perfectly declare,
The wondrous cradle of thine infancie?
When thy great mother Venus first thee bare,
Begot of Plentie and of Penurie,
Though elder then thine owne natiuitie;
And yet a chyld, renewing still thy yeares
And yet the eldest of the heauenly Peares.
For ere this worlds still mouing mightie masse,
Out of great Chaos vgly prison crept,
In which his goodly face long hidden was
From heauens view, and in deepe darknesse
kept,
60
Loue, that had now long time securely slept
In Venus lap, vnarmed then and naked,
Gan reare his head, by Clotho being waked.
And taking to him wings of his owne heate, Kindled at first from heauens life-giuing fyre, He gan to moue out of his idle seate, Weakely at first, but after with desyre Lifted aloft, he gan to mount vp hyre, And like fresh Eagle, make his hardie flight Through all that great wide wast, yet wanting light. 70
Yet wanting light to guide his wandring way, His owne faire mother, for all creatures sake, Did lend him light from her owne goodly ray: Then through the world his way he gan to take, The world that was not till he did it make; Whose sundrie parts he from them selues did
The which before had lyen confused euer.
The earth, the ayre, the water, and the fyre,
Then gan to raunge them selues in huge array,
And with contrary forces to conspyre
Each against other, by all meanes they may,
Threatning their owne confusion and decay:
Ayre hated earth, and water hated fyre,
Till Loue relented their rebellious yre.
He then them tooke, and tempering goodly well
Their contrary dislikes with loued meanes,
Did place them all in order, and compell
To keepe them selues within their sundrie raines,
Together linkt with Adamantine chaines ;
Yet so, as that in euery liuing wight
They mixe themselues, and shew their kindly
might.
And duly well obserued his beheast; Through which now all these things that are contained
Within this goodly cope, both most and least Their being haue, and dayly are increast, Through secret sparks of his infused fyre, Which in the barraine cold he doth inspyre.
Thereby they all do liue, and moued are
To multiply the likenesse of their kynd,
Whilest they seeke onely, without further care,
To quench the flame, which they in burning
fynd:
But man, that breathes a more immortall mynd,
Not for lusts sake, but for eternitie,
Seekes to enlarge his lasting progenie.
For hauing yet in his deducted spright,
Some sparks remaining of that heauenly fyre,
He is enlumind with that goodly light,
Vnto like goodly semblant to aspyre:
Therefore in choice of loue, he doth desyre
That seemes on earth most heauenly, to em-
brace,
The whylst thou tyrant Loue doest laugh and | For loue is Lord of truth and loialtie,
To dirtie drosse, no higher dare aspyre,
The flaming light of that celestiall fyre,
Ne can his feeble earthly eyes endure
Which kindleth loue in generous desyre,
And makes him mount aboue the natiue might
Of heauie earth, vp to the heauens hight.
Such is the powre of that sweet passion, 190
That it all sordid basenesse doth expell,
And the refyned mynd doth newly fashion
Vnto a fairer forme, which now doth dwell
In his high thought, that would it selfe excell;
Which he beholding still with constant sight,
Admires the mirrour of so heauenly light.
Whose image printing in his deepest wit,
He thereon feeds his hungrie fantasy,
Still full, yet neuer satisfyde with.it,
Like Tantale, that in store doth sterued ly:
So doth he pine in most satiety,
For nought may quench his infinite desyre,
Once kindled through that first conceiued fyre.
Thereon his mynd affixed wholly is,
His care, his ioy, his hope is all on this,
Ne thinks on ought, but how it to attaine;
That seemes in it all blisses to containe,
In sight whereof, all other blisse seemes vaine.
Thrise happie man, might he the same possesse;
He faines himselfe, and doth his fortune blesse.
And though he do not win his wish to end,
Yet thus farre happie he him selfe doth weene,
That heauens such happie grace did to him lend,
As thing on earth so heauenly, to haue seene,
His harts enshrined saint, his heauens queene,
Fairer then fairest, in his fayning eye,
Whose sole aspect he counts felicitye.
Then forth he casts in his vnquiet thought,
What he may do, her fauour to obtaine;
What braue exploit, what perill hardly wrought,
What puissant conquest, what aduenturous
paine,
May please her best, and grace vnto him gaine: He dreads no danger, nor misfortune feares, His faith, his fortune, in his breast he beares.
Thou art his god, thou art his mightie guyde,
Thou being blind, letst him not see his feares,
But cariest him to that which he hath eyde,
Through seas, through flames, through thousand
swords and speares :
Ne ought so strong that may his force with-
stand,
With which thou armest his resistlesse hand.
Witnesse Leander, in the Euxine waues,
And stout Æneas in the Troiane fyre,
Achilles preassing through the Phrygian glaiues,
And Orpheus daring to prouoke the yre
Of damned fiends, to get his loue retyre:
For both through heauen and hell thou makest
way,
To win them worship which to thee obay.
And if by all these perils and these paynes,
He may but purchase lyking in her eye,
What heauens of ioy, then to himselfe he faynes,
Eftsoones he wypes quite out of memory, 241
What euer ill before he did aby:
Had it bene death, yet would he die againe,
To liue thus happie as her grace to gaine.
Yet when he hath found fauour to his will,
He nathemore can so contented rest,
But forceth further on, and striueth still
T'approch more neare, till in her inmost brest,
He may embosomd bee, and loued best;
And yet not best, but to be lou'd alone:
For loue can not endure a Paragone.
The feare whereof, O how doth it torment
His troubled mynd with more then hellish
paine !
And to his fayning fansie represent
Sights neuer seene, and thousand shadowes
vaine,
To breake his sleepe, and waste his ydle braine;
Thou that hast neuer lou'd canst not beleeue,
Least part of th'euils which poore louers greeue.
The gnawing enuie, the hart-fretting feare,
The vaine surmizes, the distrustfull showes,
The false reports that flying tales doe beare,
The doubts, the daungers, the delayes, the woes,
The fayned friends, the vnassured foes,
With thousands more then any tongue can tell,
Doe make a louers life a wretches hell.
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So thou thy folke, through paines of Purgatorie,
Dost beare vnto thy blisse, and heauens glorie.
There thou them placest in a Paradize
Of all delight, and ioyous happie rest,
Where they doe feede on Nectar heauenly wize,
With Hercules and Hebe, and the rest
Of Venus dearlings, through her bountie blest,
And lie like Gods in yuorie beds arayd,
With rose and lillies ouer them displayd.
There with thy daughter Pleasure they doe play
Their hurtlesse sports, without rebuke or blame,
And in her snowy bosome boldly lay 289
Their quiet heads, deuoyd of guilty shame,
After full ioyance of their gentle game,
Then her they crowne their Goddesse and their
Queene,
And decke with floures thy altars well beseene.
Ay me, deare Lord, that euer I might hope,
For all the paines and woes that I endure,
To come at length vnto the wished scope
Of my desire; or might my selfe assure,
That happie port for euer to recure.
Then would I thinke these paines no paines at
all,
And all my woes to be but penance small. 300
Then would I sing of thine immortall praise
An heauenly Hymne, such as the Angels sing,
And thy triumphant name then would I raise
Boue all the gods, thee onely honoring,
My guide, my God, my victor, and my king;
Till then, dread Lord, vouchsafe to take of me
This simple song, thus fram'd in praise of thee,
FINIS.
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