Joy of my life! full oft for loving you
LACKYNG my love, I go from place to place
Leave, lady! in your glasse of cristall clene
Let not one sparke of filthy lustre fyre
Like as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde.
Like as a ship with dreadfull storm long tost.
Like as an Hynd forth singled from the heard
Like as the gentle hart it selfe bewrayes.
Lo! Collin, here the place whose plesaunt syte
Lo! I, the Man whose Muse whylome did maske
Loe! I have made a Calender for every yeare.
Long languishing in double malady
Since I have lackt the comfort of that light
So oft as homeward I from her depart
Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure.
Now ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce 145 Sweet warriour! when shall I have peace with
you?
Tell me, Perigot, what shalbe the game.
Tell me, when shall these wearie woes have
end
That conning Architect of cancred guyle
That Mantuane Poetes incompared spirit
The antique Babel, Empresse of the East
The Chian Peincter, when he was requirde
The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre love, is
vaine
The famous Briton Prince and Faery Knight
The famous warriors of anticke world
The gentle shepheard satte beside a springe
The glorious image of the Maker's beautie
The glorious pourtraict of that Angels face
The joyes of love, if they should ever last
The laurel-leafe, which you this day doe weare
The love which me so cruelly tormenteth
The merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring
The morow next, so soone as Phoebus Lamp
The noble hart that harbours vertuous thought
The Panther, knowing that his spotted hyde.
The paynefull smith, with force of fervent
True is, that whilome that good Poet sayd
454 Trust not the treason of those smyling lookes 580
470
The prayse of meaner wits this worke like profit
brings
tresses
What man is he, that boasts of fleshly might.
What man so wise, what earthly witt so ware
What man that sees the ever-whirling wheele
What Tygre, or what other salvage wight
What vertue is so fitting for a knight
What warre so cruel, or what siege so sore
When I behold that beauties wonderment
When I bethinke me on that speech whyleare
When my abodes prefixed time is spent
When stout Achilles heard of Helen's rape
When those renoumed noble Peres of Greece.
Where is the Antique glory now become
Wherefore doth vaine antiquitie so vaunt
Who ever doth to temperance apply
This holy season, fit to fast and pray
Wrong'd, yet not daring to expresse my paine 504
582 YE gentle Ladies, in whose soveraine powre.
6 Ye heavenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie.
Ye learned sisters, which have oftentimes
Ye tradefull Merchants, that, with weary toyle
Young knight whatever, that dost armes pro-
fesse
One day I sought with her hart-thrilling eies. One day I wrote her name upon the sand
One day, whiles that my daylie cares did sleepe 536
377 PENELOPE, for her Ulisses sake
LACKYNG my love, I go from place to place
Leave, lady! in your glasse of cristall clene.
Let not one sparke of filthy lustre fyre
Like as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde.
Like as a ship with dreadfull storm long tost.
Like as an Hynd forth singled from the heard
Like as the gentle hart it selfe bewrayes
Lo! Collin, here the place whose plesaunt syte 463
Lo! I, the Man whose Muse whylome did maske
Loe! I have made a Calender for every yeare.
Long languishing in double malady
Long-while I sought to what I might compare
Love lift me up upon thy golden wings.
Love, that long since hast to thy mighty powre
Lyke as a huntsman after weary chace
Lyke as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde.
Lyke as the Culver, on the bared bough.
Receive, most noble Lord, a simple taste Receive, most Noble Lord, in gentle gree Redoubted Knights, and honorable Dames Redoubted Lord, in whose corageous mind Rehearse to me, ye sacred Sisters Nine Remembrance of that most Heroicke spirit Renowmed Lord, that for your worthinesse Retourne agayne, my forces late dismayd Right well I wote, most mighty Soveraine Rudely thou wrongest my deare harts desire.
Nought under heaven so strongly doth allure.
Now ginnes that goodly frame of Temperaunce 145 Sweet warriour! when shall I have peace with
Now turne againe my teme, thou jolly swayne 402
you?
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