THE SIXTE BOOKE OP THE FAERIE QUEENE, CONTAYNING THE LEGEND OF SIR CALIDORE, OR OF COURTESIE. 1 THE waies, through which my weary steps I guyde In this delightfull land of Faery, Are so exceeding spacious and wyde, And sprinckled with such sweet variety That I, nigh ravisht with rare thoughts delight, And, when I gin to feele decay of might, It strength to me supplies and chears my dulled spright. 2 Such secret comfort and such heavenly pleasures, Ye, sacred Imps, that on Parnasso dwell, And there the keeping have of Learnings threasures, 1 Well, cause to flow. 2 Fury, inspiration. Guyde ye my footing, and conduct me well In these strange waies where never foote did use, Ne none can find but who was taught them by the Muse! 3 Revele to me the sacred noursery Of Vertue, which with you doth there remaine, From view of men and wicked worlds disdaine; 4 Amongst them all growes not a fayrer flowre And spreds itselfe through all civilitie : 8 Of which though present age doe plenteous seeme, Yet, being matcht with plaine antiquitie, Ye will them all but fayned showes esteeme, Which carry colours faire that feeble eies misdeeme1: But, in the triall of true Curtesie, Its now so farre from that which then it was, 1 Paine, difficulty. 2 Bloosme, blossom, flower. 3 Bowre, lodge. 4 Misdeeme, misjudge. |