Richard Barnfield

“ Next morning, when the golden sunne was risen,
And new had bid good morrow to the mountaines;
When night her silver light had lockt in prison,
Which gave a glimmering on the christall fountaines:
Then ended sleepe, and then my cares began,
Ev'n with the uprising of the silver swan.
Oh, glorious sunne! quoth I, viewing the sunne,
That lightenst everie thing but me alone:
Why is my summer season almost done,
My spring-time past, and ages autumne gone?
My harvest's come, and yet I reapt no corne:
My love is great, and yet I am forlorne. ”

“ No other Muse I will inuoke but thee:
And if thou wilt my faire Thalia be,
⁠Ile sing sweet Hymnes and praises to thy name,
⁠In that cleare Temple of eternal Fame.
But oh (alas) how can mine infant Muse
(That neuer heard of Helicon before)
Performe my promise past; when they refuse
Poore Shepheards Plaints ”

“ And sweete Epistles, soare thy fame to skies.
Thy learned Name, is sequall with the rest;
Whose stately Numbers are so well addrest.
And Shakespeare thou, whose hony-flowing Vaine,
(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine. ”

“ Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife
(Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your life) ,
Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light,
And wanting wit is counted but a trife,
Especially when Honour's put to flight:
Thus of a louely, soone becomes a loathly sight.
XV.
Wit without wealth is bad, yet counted good,
Wealth wanting wisdom's worse, yet deem'd as wel,
Erom whence (for ay) doth flow, as from a flood,
A pleasant Poyson, and a heauenly Hell,
Where mortall men do couet still to dwell. ”

“ The mickle pleasure and the little paine
That ever doth awayte the shepheards boy:
His hart is never troubled with annoy;
He is a king, for he commands his sheepe;
He knowes no woe, for he doth seldome weepe.
He is a courtier, for he courts his love ”

“ Nor are they common natur'd stars: for why,
⁠These stars when other shine vaile their pure light,
⁠And when all other vanish out of sight,
They adde a glory to the worlds great eie.
By these two stars my life is onely led,
⁠In them I place my ioy, in them my pleasure,
⁠Loue's piercing Darts, and Natures precious treasure
With their sweet foode my fainting soule is fed:
⁠Then when my sunne is absent from my sight
⁠How can it chuse (with me) but be dark night? ”

“ TO THE RIGHT EXCELLENT AND MOST BEAUTIFULL LADY, THE LADIE PENELOPE RITCH.
⁠Fayre louely Ladie, whose Angelique eyes
⁠Are Vestall Candles of sweet Beauties Treasure,
⁠Whose speech is able to inchaunt the wise,
⁠Converting Ioy to Paine, and Paine to Pleasure ”

“ Vertue is loathde of fooles, lovde of the wise.
O faire boy, trust not to thy beauties wings,
They cannot carry thee above the sunne:
Beauty and wealth are transitory things,
For all must ende that ever was begunne.
But Fame and Vertue never shall decay,
For Fame is toombles, Vertue lives for aye.
The snow is white, and yet the pepper 's blacke,
The one is bought, the other is contemned:
Pibbles we have, but store of jeat we lacke,
So white comparde to blacke is much condemned.
We doo not praise the swanne because shees white,
But for she doth in musique much delite. ”

“ Playes not at all, but seemes afraide.
⁠With sighs so deepe, procures to weepe,
⁠In howling-wise, to see my dolefull plight:
⁠How sighs resound, through hartlesse ground,
⁠Like a thousand vanquish 'd men in bloody fight. ”

“ Scarce had the morning starre hid from the light
Heavens crimson canopie with stars bespangled,
But I began to rue th' unhappy sight
Of that faire boy that had my hart intangled;
Cursing the time, the place, the sense, the sin;
I came, I saw, I viewd, I slipped in.
If it be sinne to love a sweet-fac'd boy,
Whose amber locks trust up in golden tramels
Dangle adowne his lovely cheekes with joy,
When pearle and flowers his faire haire enamels;
If it be sinne to love a lovely lad,
Oh then sinne I, for whom my soule is sad. ”

“ Right Honorable, the dutifull affection I beare to your manie vertues, is cause, that to manifest my loue to your Lordship, I am constrained to shew my simplenes to the world. Many are they that admire your worth, of the which number, I (though the meanest in abilitie, yet with the formost in affection) am one that most desire to serue, and onely to serue your Honour.
Small is the gift, but great is my good-will ”

“ No Creature is secure from Death, for Death will haue his Right.
He spareth none: both rich and poore, both young and olde must die;
So fraile is flesh, so short is Life, so sure Mortalitie.
When first the Bodye liues to Life, the soule first dies to sinne:
And they that loose this earthly Life, a heauenly Life shall winne,
If they liue well: as well she liv'd, that lyeth Vnder heere ”

“ The Epicures in pleasure spend their youth,
The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie,
⁠To be the chiefest good aboue all other,
⁠One man, thinks this; & that conceaues another:
So that in one thing very few agree. ”

“ George Gascoigne him beforne, was tomb'd in stone.
Yet, tho their Bodies lye full low in ground,
(As euery thing must dye, that earst was borne)
Their liuing fame, no Fortune can confound;
Nor euer shall their Labours be forlorne. ”

“ Hee that is thy friend indeed,
Hee will helpe thee in thy neede:
If thou sorrowe, hee will weepe; ”

“ That Phœbus Lute (the Queene of Musique) makes:
And I in deepe Delight am chiefly drownd,
When as himselfe to singing he betakes.
One God is God of Both (as Poets faigne)
One Knight loues Both, and Both in thee remaine. ”

“ Can no remorce nor pittie move thy minde?
Is mercie in the heavens so hard to finde?
Oh, then it is no mervaile that on earth
Of kinde remorce there is so great a dearth.
[Pg 43] How happie were a harmles shepheards life,
If he had never knowen what love did meane;
But now fond Love in every place is rife,
Staining the purest soule with spots uncleane,
Making thicke purses thin, fat bodies leane.
Love is a fiend, a fire, a heaven, a hell,
Where pleasure, paine, and sad repentance dwell!
There are so manie Danaes now a dayes,
That love for lucre, paine for gaine is sold ”

“ Maske your bright eyes with Vestaes sable vaile,
Since few are left so faire or chast as shee;
(Matter for me to weepe, you to bewaile) :
For manie seeming so, of Vertue faile;
⁠Whose louely Cheeks (with rare vermilion tainted)
⁠Can neuer blush because their faire is painted. ”