might

Ne let th' unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still And thou, great Juno! which with awful
Make us to wish theyr choking. [croking
Let none of these theyr drery accents sing; The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize;
Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho And the religion of the faith first plight
ring.
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize;
And eeke for comfort often called art
Of women in their smart;

But let stil Silence trew night-watches keepe,
That sacred Peace may in assurance rayne,
And tymely Sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe,
May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant
playne,

The whiles an hundred little winged loves,
Like divers-fethered doves,

Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,
And in the secret darke, that none reproves,
Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares
shal spread

To filch away sweet snatches of delight,
Conceald through covert night.

Ye son es of Venus, play your sports at will!
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.
All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:

Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing;
Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho
ring.

Who is the same, which at my window peepes?
Or whose is that faire face that shines so
bright?

Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes,
But walkes about high heaven al the night?
O! fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy
My love with me to spy:

[thought,
For thou likewise didst love, though now un-
And for a fleece of wooll, which privily
The Latmian shepherd once unto thee brought,
His pleasures with thee wrought.
Therefore to us be favorable now;
And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,
And generation goodly dost enlarge,
Encline thy will t'effect our wishfull vow,
And the chast wombe informe with timely
seed,

That may our comfort breed:

Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing; Ne let the woods us answere, nor our Eccho ring.

Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessings unto us impart.
And thou, glad Genius! in whose gentle hand
The bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine,
Without blemish or staine;

And the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight
With secret ayde deest succour and supply,
Till they bring forth the fruitfull progeny;
Send us the timely fruit of this same night.
And thou, fayre Hebe! and thou, Hymen free!
Grant that it may so be.

Til which we cease your further prayse to
sing:

Ne any woods shall answer, nor your Eccho
ring.

And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods,
In which a thousand torches flaming bright
Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods
In dreadful darknesse lend desired light:
And all ye powers which in the same remayne,
More then we men can fayne!
Poure out your blessing on us plentiously,
And happy influence upon us raine,
That we may raise a large posterity,
Which from the earth, which they may long
With lasting happinesse,
[possesse

Up to your haughty pallaces may mount;
And, for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit,
May heavenly tabernacles there inherit,
Of blessed Saints for to increase the count.
So let us rest, sweet love, in hope of this,
And cease till then our tymely joyes to sing.
The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho
ring!

Song! made in lieu of many ornaments,
With which my love should duly have been dect,
Which cutting off through hasty accidents,
Ye would not stay your dew time to expect,
But promist both to recompens;
Be unto her a goodly ornament,
And for short time an endlesse moniment.

HAVING in the greener times of my youth, I doe dedicate joyntly unto you two honorable composed these former two Hymnes in the sisters, as to the most excellent and rare praise of Love and Beautie, and finding that ornaments of all true love and beautie, both the same too much pleased those of like age in the one and the other kinde; humbly beand disposition, which being too vehemently seeching you to vouchsafe the patronage of caried with that kind of affection, do rather them, and to accept this my humble service, sucke out poyson to their strong passion, then in lieu of the great graces and honourable hony to their honest delight, I was moved by favours which ye dayly shew unto me, untill the one of you two most excellent Ladies, to such time as I may, by better meanes, yeeld call in the same. But, being unable so to doe, you some more notable testimonie of my by reason that many copies thereof were for- thankfull mind and dutifull devotion. And merly scattered abroad, I resolved at least to even so I pray for your happinesse. Greenamend, and, by way of retractation, to reforme wich this first of September, 1596. Your them, making, in stead of those two Hymnes Honors most bounden ever, of earthly or naturall love and beautie, two others of heavenly and celestiall. The which

in all humble service,

AN HYMNE IN HONOUR OF LOVE.

ED. SP.

LOVE, that long since hast to thy mighty Of mighty Victors, with wyde wounds em

brewed,

Where thou doest sit in Venus lap above,
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 have often
proved

The piercing points of his avengefull darts;
And ye, faire Nimphs! which oftentimes have

loved

The cruell worker of your kindly smarts,
Prepare your selves, 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,

The which before had lyen confused ever.
The earth, the ayre, the water, and the fyre,
Then gan to raunge them selves in huge array, }
And with contràry 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 Love relented their rebellious yre.

He then them tooke, and, tempering goodly
well

Which in the conquests of your beautie bost,
Wherewith your lovers feeble eyes you feed, Their contrary dislikes with loved meanes,
But sterve their harts that needeth nourture Did place them all in order, and compell

most,

[host, To keepe them selves within their sundrie raines,

Prepare your selves to march amongst his
And all the way this sacred hymne do sing,
Made in the honor of your Soveraigne king.
GREAT GOD OF MIGHT, that reignest in the

mynd,

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 alive 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 nativitie,
And yet a chyld, renewing still thy yeares,
And yet the eldest of the heavenly Peares?
For ere this worlds still moving mightie masse
Out of great Chaos ugly prison crept,
In which his goodly face long hidden was
From heavens view, and in deepe darknesse
kept,

Love, that had now long time securely slept
In Venus lap, unarmed then and naked,
Gan reare his head, by Clotho being waked:
And, taking to him wings of his owne heate,
Kindled at first from heavens life-giving fyre,
He gan to move out of his idle seate;
Weakely at first, but after with desyre
Lifted aloft, he gan to mount up hyre,
And, like fresh Eagle, make his hardie flight
Through all that great wide wast, yet wanting
light.

Yet so, as that in every living wight
Together linkt with Adamantine chaines;
They mixe themselves, and shew their kindly
might.

So ever since they firmely have remained,
And duly well observed his beheast;
Through which now all these things that are
contained

care,

Within this goodly cope, both most and least,
Their being have, and dayly are increast
Through secret sparks of his infused fyre,
Which in the barraine cold he doth inspyre.
Thereby they all do live, and moved are
To multiply the likenesse of their kynd,
Whilest they seeke onely, without further
[fynd;
To quench the flame which they in burning
Not for lusts sake, but for eternitie,
But man that breathes a more immortall mynd,
Seekes to enlarge his lasting progenie :
For, having yet in his deducted spright
Some sparks remaining of that heavenly fyre,
He is enlumind with that goodly light,
Unto like goodly semblant to aspyre;
Therefore in choice of love he doth desyre
That seemes on earth most heavenly to em-
That same is Beautie, borne of heavenly race.
brace,
For sure of all that in this mortall frame
Contained is, nought more divine doth seeme,
Or that resembleth more th' Immortall flame
Of heavenly light, then Beauties glorious

beame

QQ

What wonder then, if with such rage extreme Yet herein eke thy glory seemeth more,
Fraile men, whose eyes seek heavenly things to By so hard handling those which best thee

tenance coy

lyfe,

[harts,

Of carefull wretches with consuming griefe.
Thenceforth they playne, and make ful piteous

mone

serve,

That, ere thou doest them unto grace restore,
Thou mayest well trie if they will ever swerve,
And mayest them make it better to deserve,
And, having got it, may it more esteeme;
For things hard gotten men more dearely deeme.

Rest not till they have pierst the trembling So hard those heavenly beauties he enfyred
And kindled flame in all their inner parts, As things divine, least passions doe impresse,
Which suckes the blood, and drinketh up the The more of stedfast mynds to be admyred,
The more they stayed be on stedfastnesse ;
But baseborne mynds such lamps regard the
Which at first blowing take not hastie fyre;
lesse,
Such fancies feele no love, but loose desyre.
For love is Lord of truth and loialtie,
[daine; Lifting himselfe out of the lowly dust
Their lives they loath, and heavens light dis- On golden plumes up to the purest skie,
No light but that, whose lampe doth yet remaine
Fresh burning in the image of their eye,
They deigne to see, and seeing it still dye.
That whilst thou tyrant Love doest laugh and

Unto the author of their balefull bane:
The daies they waste, the nights they grieve
and grone,

scorne

Above the reach of loathly sinfull lust,
Whose base affect through cowardly distrust
Of his weake wings dare not to heaven fly,

But like a moldwarpe in the earth doth ly.
[play, His dunghill thoughts, which do themselves

At their complaints, making their paine thy
Whylest they lye languishing like thrals for-
lorne,

The whyles thou doest triumph in their decay;
And otherwhyles, their dying to delay,
Thou doest emmarble the proud hart of her
Whose love before their life they doe prefer.
So hast thou often done (ay me, the more!)
To me thy vassall, whose yet bleeding hart
With thousand wounds thou mangled hast so

sore,

That whole remaines scarse any little part;
Yet, to augment the anguish of my smart,
Thou hast enfrosen her disdainefull brest,
That no one drop of pitie there doth rest.
Why then do I this honor unto thee,
Thus to ennoble thy victorious name,
Since thou doest shew no favour unto mee,
Ne once move ruth in that rebellious Dame,
Somewhat to slacke the rigour of my flame?
Certes small glory doest thou winne hereby,
To let her live thus free, and me to dy.

But if thou be indeede, as men thee call,

The worlds great Parent, the most kind

server

enure

To dirtie drosse, no higher dare aspyre,
Ne can his feeble earthly eyes endure
The flaming light of that celestiall fyre
Which kindleth love in generous desyre,
And makes him mount above the native might
Of heavie earth, up to the heavens hight.
Such is the powre of that sweet passion,
That it all sordid basenesse doth expell,
And the refyned mynd doth newly fashion
Unto 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 heavenly light.

Whose image printing in his deepest wit,
He thereon feeds his hungrie fantasy,
Still full, yet never satisfyde with it;
Like Tantale, that in store doth sterved ly,
So doth he pine in most satiety;
For nought may quench his infinite desyre,
Once kindled through that first conceived fyre.
Thereon his mynd affixed wholly is,

Ne thinks on ought but how it to attaine;
pre-That seemes in it all blisses to containe,
His care, his joy, his hope, is all on this,
In sight whereof all other blisse seemes vaine :
Thrise happie man might he the same pos-

Of living wights, the soveraine Lord of all,
How falles it then that with thy furious

vour

fer

Thou doost afflict as well the not-deserver,
As him that doeth thy lovely heasts despize,
And on thy subjects most doest tyrannize?

sesse,

He faines himselfe, and doth his fortune blesse.
And though he do not win his wish to end,
Yet thus farre happie he himselfe doth weene,

That heavens such happie grace did to him
lend,

As thing on earth so heavenly to have seene
His harts enshrined saint, his heavens queene,
Fairer then fairest, in his fayning eye,
Whose sole aspect he counts felicitye.

595

The fayned friends, the unassured foes, [tell,
With thousands more then any tongue can
Doe make a lovers life a wretches hell.

Then forth he casts in his unquiet thought, What he may do, her favour to obtaine; What brave exploit, what perill hardly Yet is there one more cursed then they all, wrought [paine, That cancker-worme, that monster, Gelosie. What puissant conquest, what adventurous Which eates the hart and feedes upon the gall, May please her best, and grace unto him Turning all loves delight to miserie,

gaine;

Through feare of loosing his felicitie.
Ah, Gods! that ever ye that monster placed
In gentle love, that all his joyes defaced!
By these, O Love! thou doest thy entrance

make

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, Unto thy heaven, and doest the more endeere
Through seas, through flames, through thou- Thy pleasures unto those which them partake,
sand swords and speares; [stand, As after stormes, when clouds begin to cleare,
Ne ought so strong that may his force with- The Sunne more bright and glorious doth ap-
With which thou armest his resistlesse hand.
Witnesse Leander in the Euxine waves,
And stout Æneas in the Trojane fyre,
Achilles preassing through the Phrygian
glaives,

And Orpheus, daring to provoke the yre
Of damned fiends, to get his love retyre; [way
For both through heaven and hell thou makest
To win them worship which to thee obay.
And if, by all these perils and these
He may but purchase lyking in her eye,
What heavens of joy then to himselfe
faynes!

paynes,

Eftsoones he wypes quite out of memory
Whatever ill before he did abv:

he

Had it bene death, yet would he die againe,
To live thus happie as her grace to gaine.
Yet, when he hath found favour to his will,
He nathëmore can so contented rest,
But forceth further on, and striveth still
T'approch more neare, till in her inmost
brest

He may embosomd bee and loved best;
And yet not best, but to be lov'd alone;
For love can not endure a Paragone.

peare ;

So thou thy folke, through paines of Purgatorie
Dost beare unto thy blisse, and heavens glorie.
There thou them placest in a Paradize
Of all delight and joyous happie rest,
Where they doe feede on Nectar heavenly-wize,
With Hercules and Hebe, and the rest
Of Venus dearlings, through her bountie blest;
And lie like Gods in yvorie beds arayd,
With rose and lillies over them displayd.
There with thy daughter Pleasure they doe
play
[blame,
Their hurtles se sports, without rebuke or
And in her snowy bosome boldly lay
Their quiet heads, devoyd of guilty shame,
After full joyance 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 ever I might hope,
For all the paines and woes that I endure,
To come at length unto the wished scope
Of my desire, or might myselfe assure
That happie port for ever to recure!
Then would I thinke these paines no paines at
[all,
And all my woes to be but penance small.

The feare whereof, O how doth it torment
His troubled mynd with more then hellish Then would I sing of thine immortall praise
paine !
An heavenly Hymne, such as the Angels sing,
And to his fayning fansie represent [vaine, And thy triumphant name then would I raise
Sights never seene, and thousand shadowes Bove all the gods, thee onely honoring
To breake his sleepe, and waste his ydle braine: My guide, my God, my victor, and my king:
Thou that hast never lov'd canst not beleeve Till then, dread Lord! vouchsafe to take of me
Least part of th' evils which po ore lovers This simple song, thus fram'd in praise of
thee.

greeve.