O blessed Well of Love! O Floure of Grace!
O glorious Morning-Starre! O Lampe
Light!

And love our brethren; thereby to approve of How much, hiinselfe that loved us, we love. Then rouze thy selfe, O Earth! out of thy

Most lively image of thy Fathers face,
Eternall King of Glorie, Lord of Might,
Meeke Lambe of God, before all worlds be-
hight,

How can we thee requite for all this good?
Or what can prize that thy most precious

blood?

Yet nought thou ask'st in lieu of all this love,
But love of us, for guerdon of thy paine:
Ay me! what can us lesse then that behove?
Had he required life of us againe, [ga ne?
Had it beene wrong to aske his owne with
He gave us life, he it restored lost;
Then life were least, that us so litle cost.

But he our life hath left unto us free, [band;
Free that was thrall, and blessed that was
Ne ought demaunds but that we loving bee,
As he himselfe hath lov'd us afore-hand,
And bound therto with an eternall band,
Him first to love that us so dearely bought,
And next our brethren, to his image wrought.

Him first to love great right and reason is,
Who first to us our life and being gave,
And after, when we fared had amisse,
Us wretches from the second death did save;
And last, the food of life, which now we have,
Even he himselfe, in his deare sacrament,
To feede our hungry soules, unto us lent.

Then next, to love our brethren, that were

made

And were they not, yet since that loving Lord
Commaunded us to love them for his sake,
Even for his sake, and for his sacred word,
Which in his last bequest he to us spake,
We should them love, and with their needs
partake;

Knowing that, whatsoere to them we give,
We give to him by whom we all doe live.

Such mercy he by his most holy reede

Unto us taught, and to approve it trew,
Ensampled it by his most righteous deede,
Shewing us mercie (miserable crew!)

That we the like should to the wretches shew,

soyle,

And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle,
In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne,
Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne;
That thou his soveraine bountie mayst behold,
Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne,
And read, through love, his mercies manifold.
Beginne from first, where he encradled was
Betweene the toylefull Oxe and humble Asse,
In simple cratch, wrapt in a wad of hay,
And in what rags, and in how base aray,
The glory of our heavenly riches lay,
When him the silly Shepheards came to see,
Whom greatest Princes sought on lowest

knee.

From thence reade on the storie of his life,
His humble carriage, his unfaulty wayes,
His cancred foes, his fights, his toyle, his
strife,

His paines, his povertie, his sharpe assayes,
Through which he past his miserable dayes,
Offending none, and doing good to all,
Yet being malist both of great and small.
And looke at last, how of most wretched wights
How with most scornefull taunts, and fell des-
He taken was, betrayd, and false accused;
pights,

He was revyld, disgrast, and foule abused;
How scourgd, how crownd, how buffeted, how
brused;

And lastly, how twixt robbers crucifyde,
With bitter wounds through hands, through
feet, and syde!

Then let thy flinty hart, that feeles no paine,
Empierced be with pittifull remorse,
And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine,
At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse,
So torne and mangled with malicious forse;
And let thy soule, whose sins his sorrows
wrought,

Melt into teares, and grone in grieved thought.
With sence whereof, whilest so thy softened

spirit

Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale
Through meditation of his endlesse merit,
Lift up thy mind to th' Author of thy weale,
And to his soveraine mercie doe appeale;
Learne him to love that loved thee so deare,
And in thy brest his blessed image beare.
With all thy hart, with all thy soule and
Thou must him love, and his beheasts em-
mind,
[brace;

All other loves, with which the world doth
blind

Weake fancies, and stirre up affections base,
Thou must renounce and utterly displace,
And give thy selfe unto him full and free,
That full and freely gave himselfe to thee.
Then shalt thou feele thy spirit so possest,
And ravisht with devouring great desire
Of his deare selfe, that shall thy feeble brest
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire
With burning zeale, through every part entire,
That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight,
But in his sweet and amiable sight.
Thenceforth all worlds desire will in thee dye,
And all earthes glorie, on which men do gaze,

Seeme durt and drosse in thy pure-sighted eye,
Compar'd to that celestiall beauties blaze,
Whose glorious beames all fleshly sense doth
daze

With admiration of their passing light,
|Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright.

Then shall thy ravisht soule inspired bee
With heavenly thoughts farre above humane
skil,

And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainely see
Th Idee of his pure glorie present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill
With sweete enragement of celestiall love,
Kindled through sight of those faire things

above.

AN HYMNE OF HEAVENLY BEAUTIE.

RAPT with the rage of mine own ravisht
thought,

Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
And glorious images in heaven wrought,
Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet de-
lights

Do kindle love in high conceipted sprights;
I faine to tell the things that I behold,
But feele my wits to faile, and tongue to fold.
Vouchsafe then, O thou most Almightie
Spright!
[slow,
From whom all guifts of wit and knowledge
To shed into my breast some sparkling light
Of thine eternall Truth, that I may show
Some litle beames to mortall eyes below
Of that immortall beautie, there with thee,
Which in my weake distraughted mynd I see;
That with the glorie of so goodly sight
The hearts of men, which fondly here admyre
Faire seeming shewes, and feed on vaine
Transported with celestiall desyre [delight,
Of those faire formes, may lift themselves up
hyer,

And, last, that mightie shining christall wall,
Wherewith he hath encompassed this All.
By view whereof it plainly may appeare,
That still as every thing doth upward tend,
And further is from earth, so still more cleare
And faire it growes, till to his perfect end
Of purest beautie it at last ascend; [ayre,
Ayre more then water, fire much more then
And heaven then fire, appeares more pure and
fayre.

And learne to love, with zealous humble dewty,
Th' eternall fountaine of that heavenly beauty.
Beginning then below, with th' easie vew
Of this base world, subject to fleshly eye,
From thence to mount aloft, by order dew,
To contemplation of th' immortall sky;
Of the soare faulcon so I learne to fly,
That flags awhile her fluttering wings beneath,
Till she her selfe for stronger flight can breath.
Then looke, who list thy gazefull eyes to feed
With sight of that is faire, looke on the frame As King and Queene, the heavens Empire sway;

Looke thou no urther, but affixe thine eye
On that bright shynie round still moving
Masse,
[Skye,
The house of blessed God, which men call
All sowd with glistring stars more thicke then

grasse,

Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe, But those two most, which, ruling night and day,

And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene
That to their beautie may compared bee,
Or can the sight that is most sharpe or keene
Endure their Captains flaming head to see ?
How much lesse those. much higher in degree,
And so much furer, and much more then these,

How much more those essentiall parts of his.
His truth, his love, his wisedome, and his blis,
His grace, his doome, his mercy, and his
might,

By which he lends us of himselfe a sight!
Those unto all he daily doth display,
And shew himselfe in th' image of his grace,
As in a looking-glasse, through which he may
Be seene of all his creatures vile and base,
That are unable else to see his face, [bright,
His glorious face! which glistereth else so
That th' Angels selves can not endure his
sight.

sustaine

As these are fairer then the land and seas?
For farre above these heavens, which here we
Be others farre exceeding these in light, [see,
Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee,
But infinite in largenesse and in hight,
Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright,
That need no Sunne t' illuminate their spheres,
But their owne native light farre passing theirs. But we, fraile wights! whose sight cannot
And as these heavens still by degrees arize,
Untill they come to their first Movers bound,
That in his mightie compasse doth comprize,
And carrie all the rest with him around;
So those likewise doe by degrees redound,
And rise more faire, till they at last arive
To the most faire, whereto they all do strive.
Faire is the heaven where happy soules have
In full enjoyment of felicitie,
[place,
Whence they doe still behold the glorious face
Of the Divine Eternall Majestie;
More faire is that, where those Idees on hie
Enraunged be, which Plato so admyred,
And pure Intelligences from God inspyred.
Yet fairer is that heaven, in which doe raine
The soveraine Powres and mightie Potentates,
Which in their high protections doe containe
All mortall Princes and imperiall States;
And fayrer yet, whereas the royall Seates
And heavenly Dominations are set,
From whom all earthly governance is fet.
Yet farre more faire be those bright Cherubins,
Which all with golden wings are overdight,
And those eternall burning Seraphins,
Which from their faces dart out fierie light;
Yet fairer then they both, and much more
bright,

Be th' Angels and Archangels, which attend
On Gods owne per on, without rest or end.
These thus in faire each other farre excelling,
As to the Highest they approch more neare,
Yet is that Highest farre beyond all telling,
Fairer then all the rest which there appeare,
Though all their beauties joynd together

were:

How then can mortall tongue hope to expresse
The image of such endlesse perfectnesse?
Cease then, my tongue! and lend unto my
mynd

Leave to bethinke how great that beautie is,
Whose utmost parts so beautifull I fynd;

[shyne,
The Suns bright beames when he on us doth
But that their points rebutted backe againe
Ar duld, how can we see with feeble eyne
The glory of that Majestie Divine, [darke,
In sight of whom both Sun and Moone are
Compared to his least resplendent sparke ?
The meanes, therefore, which unto us is lent
Him to behold, is on his workes to looke,
Which he hath made in beauty excellent,
And in the same, as in a brasen booke,
To reade enregistred in every nooke
His goodnesse, which his beautie doth declare;
For all thats good is beautifull and faire,
Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation,
To impe the wings of thy high flying mynd,
Mount up aloft through heavenly contem-
plation,
[soule do blynd,
From this darke world, whose damps the
And, like the native brood of Eagles kynd,
On that bright Sunne of Glorie fixe thine eyes,
Clear'd from grosse mists of fraile infirmities.
Humbled with feare and awfull reverence,
Before the footestoole of his Majestie
Throw thy selfe downe, with trembling inno-
Ne dare looke up with córruptible eye [cence,
On the dred face of that great Deity,
For feare, lest if he chaunce to looke on thee,
Thou turne to nought, and quite confounded
be.

But lowly fall before his mercie seate,
Close covered with the Lambes integrity
From the just wrath of his avengefull threate
That sits upon the righteous throne on hy,
His throne is built upon Eternity,
More firme and durable then steele or brasse,
Or the hard diamond, which them both doth
passe.

His scepter is the rod of Righteousnesse,
With which he bruseth all his foes to dust.
And the great Dragon strongly doth represse,

Under the rigour of his judgement just;
His seate is Truth, to which the faithfull trust,
From whence proceed her beames so pure and
bright

That all about him sheddeth glorious light:
Light, farre exceeding that bright blazing
sparke

Which darted is from Titans flaming head,
That with his beames enlumineth the darke
And dampish aire, whereby al things are red;
Whose nature yet so much is marvelled
Of mortall wits, that it doth much amaze
The greatest wisards which thereon do gaze.
But that immortall light, which there doth
shine,

The fairenesse of her face no tongue can tell;
For she the daughters of all wemens race,
And Angels eke, in beautie doth excell,
Sparkled on her from Gods owne glorious face,
And more increast by her owne goodly grace,
That it doth farre exceed all humane thought,
Ne can on earth compared be to ought.

Ne could that Painter (had he lived yet)
Which pictured Venus with so curious quill,
That all posteritie admyred it,
Have purtrayd this, for all his maistring skill;
Ne she her selfe, had she remained still,
And were as faire as fabling wits do fayne,
Could once come neare this beauty soverayne.

[cleare, But had those wits, the wonders of their dayes, Is many thousand times more bright, more Or that sweete Teian Poet, which did spend More excellent, more glorious, more divine, His plenteous vaine in setting forth her Through which to God all mortall actions here, And even the thoughts of men, dɔ plaine ap

peare;

For from th' Eternall Truth it doth proceed,
Through heavenly vertue which her beames
doe breed.

With the great glorie of that wondrous light
His throne is all encompassed around,
And hi in his owne brightnesse from the
sight

Of all that looke thereon with eyes unsound;
And underneath his feet are to be found
Thunder, and lightning, and tempestuous fyre,
The instruments of his avenging yre.
There in his bosome Sapience doth sit,
The soveraine dearling of the Deity,
Clad like a Queene in royall robes, most fit
For so great powre and peerelesse majesty,
And all with gemmes and jewels gorgeously
Adornd, that brighter then the starres appeare,
And make her native brightnes scem more
cleare.

And on her head a crowne of purest gold
Is set, in signe of highest soveraignty;
And in her hand a scepter she doth hold,
With which she rules the house of God on
And menageth the ever-moving sky,
And in the same these lower creatures all
Subjected to her powre imperiall.

hy,

prayse,

Seene but a glims of this which I pretend,
How wondrously would he her face commend,
Above that Idole of his fayning thought,
That all the world shold with his rimes be
fraught!

How then dare I, the novice of his Art,
Presume to picture so divine a wight,
Or hope t' expresse her least perfections part.
Whose beautie filles the heavens with her light,
And darkes the earth with shadow of her
sight?

Ah, gentle Muse! thou art too weake and faint
The pourtraict of so heavenly hew to paint.

Let Angels, which her goodly face behold
And see at will, her soveraigne praises sing,
And those most sacred mysteries unfold
Of that faire love of mightie heavens King;
Enough is me t' admyre so heavenly thing,
And, being thus with her huge love possest,
In th' only wonder of her selfe to rest,
But who so may, thrise happie man him hold,
Of all on earth whom God so much doth grace,
And lets his owne Beloved to behold;
For in the view of her celestiall face
All joy, all blisse, all happinesse, have place;
Ne ought on earth can want unto the wight
Who of her selfe can win the wishfull sight.

For she, out of her secret threasury
Plentie of riches forth on him will powre,
Within the closet of her chastest bowre,
Even heavenly riches, which there hidden ly
Th' eternall portion of her precious dowre,
Which mighty God hath given to her free,
And to all those which thereof worthy bee.
None thereof worthy be, but those whom shee
Vouchsafeth to her presence to receave,

Aud all that pompe to which proud minds With whose sweete pleasures being so possest, By name of honor, and so much desyre, Thy straying thoughts henceforth for ever rest

PROTHALAMION.

OR,

A SPOUSALL VERSE,

MADE BY

EDM. SPENSER,

IN HONOUR OF THE DOUBLE MARIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE AND VERTUOUS LADIES, THE LADIE ELIZABETH, AND THE LADIE KATHERINE SOMERSET, DAUGHTERS TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARLE OF WORCESTER, AND ESPOUSED TO THE TWO WORTHIE GENTLEMEN M. HENRY GILFORD, AND M. WILLIAM PETER, ESQUYERS.

CALME was the day, and through the trem- Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes; bling avre Whose rutty Bancke, he which his River hemmes