With the great glory of that wondrous light His throne is all encompaffed around,

And hid in his own brightness from the fight Of all that look thereon with eyes unfound; And underneath his feet are to be found Thunder, and lightning, and tempeftuous fire, The inftruments of his avenging ire.

There in his bofom Sapience doth fit,
The fovereign dearling of the Deity,
Clad like a queen in royal robes, most fit
For fo great powre and peerless majesty,
And all with gems and jewels gorgeoufly
Adorn'd, that brighter than the stars appear,
And make her native brightness feem more clear,

And on her head a crown of pureft gold
Is fet, in fign of highest fovereignty,
And in her hand a fceptre fhe doth hold,
With which the rules the house of God on high,
And menageth the ever-moving sky,
And in the fame these lower creatures all
Subjected to her powre imperial.

Both heaven and earth obey unto he will,
And all the creatures which they both contain
For of her fulness which the world doth fill
They all partake, and do in ftate remain
As their great Maker did at first ordain,
Through obfervation of her high beheast,
By which they firft were made and still increaft.

The fairness of her face no tongue can tell,
For the the daughters of all women's race,
And angels eke, in beauty doth excell,
Sparkled on her from God's own glorious face,
And more increaft by her own goodly grace,
That it doth far exceed all humane thought,
Ne can on earth compared be to ought.

Ne could that painter (had he lived yet)
Which pictur'd Venus with fo curious quill,
That all pofterity admired it,

Have pourtray'd this, for all his maistring skill;
Ne fhe herself, had the remained ftill,
And were as fair as fabling wits do feign,
Could once come near this Beauty fovereign.

But had those wits, the wonders of their days,
Or that fweet Teian poet, which did spend
His plenteous vein in fetting forth her praife,
Seen but a glimpse of this which I pretend,
How wondrously would her face commend,
Above that idole of his faining thought,

;

Let angels, which her goodly face behold
And fee at will, her fovereign praises fing,
And thofe moft facred myfteries unfold
Of that fair love of mighty Heaven's King;
Enough is me t' admire so heavenly thing,
And being thus with her huge love poffett,
In th' only wonder of herfelf to rest.

But whofo may, thrice happy man him hold,
Of all on earth, whom God fo much doth grace,
And lets his own beloved to behold;
For in the view of her celestial face

All joy, all blifs, all happiness have place;
Ne ought on earth can want unto the wight
Who of herfelf can win the wifhful fight.

For fhe, out of her fecret treasury,
Plenty of riches forth on him will pour,
Even heavenly riches, which there hidden lie
Within the closet of her chastest bowte,
Th' eternal portion of her precious dowre,
Which mighty God hath given to her free,
And to all thofe which thereof worthy be.

None thereof worthy be but thofe whom the
Vouchfafeth to her prefence to receive,
And letteth them her lovely face to fee,
Whereof fuch wondrous pleasures the conceive,
And sweet contentment, that it doth bereave
Their foul of fenfe through infinite delight,
And them transport from flesh into the fpright

In which they fee fuch admirable things,
As carries them into an extafy,
And hear fuch heavenly notes and carolings
Of God's high praife, that fills the brasen sky,
And feel fuch joy and pleasure inwardly,
That maketh them all worldly care forget,
And only think on that before them fet.

Ne from thenceforth doth any fleshly sense
Or idle thought of earthly things remain,
But all that earft feem'd sweet feems now offert,
And all that pleafed earft now seems to pain:
Their joy, their comfort, their defire, their gai,
Is fixed all on that which now they fee;
All other fights but fained fhadows be.

And that fair lamp which ufeth to enflame The hearts of men with felf-confunning fire, Thenceforth feems foul, and full of finful an And all that pomp to which proud minds afpit By name of Honour, and fo much defire, Seems to them bafenefs, and all riches drofs,

fraught!

How then dare I, the novice of his art,
Prefume to picture fo divine a wight,
Or hope t' exprefs her leaft perfections part,
Whofe beauty fills the heavens with her light,
And darks the earth with fhadow of her fight?
Ah, gentle Mufe! thou art too weak and faint
The pourtrait of fo heavenly hue to point.

So full their eyes are of that glorious fight,
And fenfes fraught with fuch fatietie,
That in nought elfe on earth they can
light,

But in the afpect of that felicitie,
Which they have written in their inward eye,
On which they feed, and in their faft'ned murd
All happy joy and fall contentment find.

fed,

On idle fancies of my foolish thought,
And with falfe Beauty's flattering bait misled,
Haft after vain deceitful fhadows fought,

Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought

But late repentance through thy folly's prief,
Ah! ceafe to gaze on matter of thy grief;

From whofe pure beams all perfect Beauty fprings,

That kindleth love in every godly spright,
Even the love of God, which loathing brings
Of this vile world and these gay-seeming things;
With whofe fweet pleasures being fo poffeft,
Thy ftraying thoughts henceforth for ever reft.

I.

BEING one day at my window all alone,
So many ftrange things happened me to fee,
As much it grieveth me to think thereon.
At my right hand a hind appear'd to me,
So fair as mote the greateft god delite;
Two eager dogs did her purfue in chace,
Of which the one was black, the other white:
With deadly force fo in their cruel race
They pincht the haunches of that gentle beaft,
That at the last, and in short time I spide,
Under a rock where fhe, alas! oppreft,
Fell to the ground, and there untimely dide.
Cruel Death vanquishing fo noble beauty,
Oft makes me wail fo hard a destiny.

The fky 'gan every where to over-cast,
And darkned was the welkin all about,
When fudden flash of heaven's fire out-braft,
And rent this royal tree quite by the root;
Which makes me much and ever to complain,
For no fuch fhadow fhall be had again.

IV.

Within this wood, out of a rock did rife
A spring of water mildly tumbling down,
Whereto approached not in any wife
The homely fhepherd nor the ruder clown,
But many Mufes and the Nymphs withal,
That fweetly in accord did tune their voyce
To the foft founding of the waters fall,
That my glad heart thercat did much rejoyce.
But while therein I took my chief delight,
I faw (alas!) the gaping earth devour
The fpring, the place, and all clean out
fight,

Which yet aggrieves my heart even to the hour,

And wounds my foul with ruful memory,
To fee fuch pleasures gone fo fuddenly.

V.

I faw a phoenix in the wood alone,
With purple wings and creft of golden hue;
Strange bird he was, whereby I thought anone,
That of fome heavenly wight I had the view,
Until he came unto the broken tree,
And to the spring that late devoured was.
What say I more? Each thing at last we fee
Doth pafs away: the phoenix there (alas!)
Spying the tree deftroid, the water dride,
Himfelf fmote with his beak, as in difdain,
And fo forthwith in great despite he dide,
That yet my heart burns in exceeding pain,
For ruth and pity of fo haplefs plight.
O let mine eyes no more fee fuch a night!

VI.

At laft, fo fair a lady did I spy,

That thinking yet on her I burn and quake;
On herbs and flowres fhe walked penfively,
Mild, but yet love the proudly did forfake:
White feem'd her robes, yet woven as they were,
As fnow and gold together had been wrought.
Above the waste a dark cloud fhrouded her,
A ftinging ferpent by the heel her caught,
Wherewith the languifht as the gather'd flowre,
And well affur'd fhe mounted up to joy.
Alas! on earth fo nothing doth endure,
But bitter grief and forrowful annoy,
Which make this life wretched and miferable,
Toffed with ftorms of fortune variable.

VII.

When I beheld this tickle trustless state
Of vain world's glory, flitting to and fro,
And mortal men toffed by troublous Fate,
In restless feas of wretchedness and woe,
I wish I might this weary life forego,
And shortly turn unto my happy reft,
Where my free spirit might not any mo
Be vext with fights that do her peace moleft.
And ye, fair Lady! in whose bounteous breft
All heavenly grace and virtue shrined is,
When ye these rimes do read, and view the reft,
Loath this bafe world, and think of heaven's blifs
And though ye be the faireft of God's creatures,
Yet think that death fhall fpoil your goodly fea

tures.

I.

Ir was the time when Rest, soft sliding down
From heaven's height into mens' heavy eyes,
In the forgetfulness of fleep doth drown
The carefull thoughts of mortal miferies,
Then did a ghoft before mine eyes appear,
On that great river's bank that runs by Rome,
Which calling me by nanie, bade me to rear
My looks to heaven, whence all good gifts do

come;

And crying loud, lo, now behold (quoth he)
What under this great temple placed is!
Lo, all is nought but flying vanity!
So I, that know this world's inconftancies,
Sith only God furmounts all times decay,
In God alone my confidence do stay.

11.

On high hill's top I saw a stately frame,
An hundred cubits high by just assize,
With hundred pillours fronting fair the fame,
All wrought with diamond after Dorick wize:
Nor brick nor marble was the wall in view,
But shining crystal, which from top to base
Out of her womb a thousand rayons threw,
One hundred steps of Afric gold's enchafe :
Gold was the parget, and the cicling bright
Did fhine all fcaly with great plates of gold;
The floor of jafp and emerauld was dight.
O world's vainnefs! whiles thus I did behold,
An earthquake shook the hill from lowest feat,
And overthrew this frame with ruine great.

111.

Then did a sharped spire of diamond bright,
'Ten feet each way in square, appear to me,
Justly proportion'd up unto his hight,
So far as archer might his level fee:
The top thereof a pot did feem to bear,
Made of the metal which we all do honour,
And in this golden veffel couched were
The afhes of a mighty emperour.

Upon four corners of the base were pight,
To bear the frame, four lyons great, of gold,
A worthy tomb for fuch a worthy wight:
Alas! this world doth nought but grievance hold.
I saw a tempeft from the heaven defcend,
Which this brave monument with flash did rend.

IV.

I faw rais'd up on ivory pillors tall,
Whose bases were of richeft metals wark,
The chapters alablafter, the fryfes crystal,
The double front of a triumphal ark:
On each fide pourtraid was a Victory,
Clad like a nymph, that wings of filver wears,
And in triumphant chair was set on hy
The antient glory of the Roman peers.
No work it feem'd of earthly craftsman's wit,
But rather wrought by his own industry
That thunder darts for Jove his fire, doth fit.
Let me no more fee fair thing under fky,
Sith that mine eyes have feen fo fair a fight
With fudden fall to duft confumed quight.

V.

Then was the fair Dodonian tree far feen,
Upon feven hills to spread his gladsom gleam,
And conquerors bedecked with his green,
Along the banks of the Aufonian stream:
There many an ancient trophy was addreft,
And many a spoil, and many a goodly show,
Which that brave race's greatness did atteft,
That whilom from the Trojan blood did flow.
Ravifht I was fo rare a thing to view,
When, lo! a barbarous troup of clownish fone
The honour of thefe noble bows down threw :
Under the wedge I heard the tronk to groan;
And fince I faw the root in great difdain
A twin of forked trees fend forth again.

VI.

I saw a wolf under a rocky cave
Nurfing two whelps; I faw her iittle ones
In wanton dalliance the teat to crave,