Edmund Spenser

“ LXXIX Men call you fayre, and you doe credit it,
For that your selfe ye daily such doe see:
But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit
And vertuous mind, is much more praysd of me.
For all the rest, how ever fayre it be,
Shall turne to nought and lose that glorious hew;
But onely that is permanent, and free
From frayle corruption that doth flesh ensew.
That is true beautie: that doth argue you
To be divine, and born of heavenly seed,
Deriv’d from that fayre Spirit from whom all true
And perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fayre, and what he fayre hath made;
All other fayre, lyke flowres, untymely fade. ”

“ For they be all but vaine, and quickly fade 395
So soone as on them blowes the northern winde;
They tarrie not, but flit and fall away,
Leaving behind them nought but griefe of minde,
And mocking such as thinke they long will stay.
“I hate the heaven, because it doth withhould 400
Me from my love, and eke my love from me;
I hate the earth, because it is the mould
Of fleshly slime and fraile mortalitie;
I hate the fire, because to nought it flyes;
I hate the ayre, because sighes of it be; 405
I hate the sea, because it teares supplyes. ”

“ I. Happy, ye leaves! when as those lilly hands
Which hold my life in their dead-doing might
Shall handle you, and hold in loves soft bands,
Lyke captives trembling at the victors sight.
And happy lines! on which, with starry light,
Those lamping eyes will deigne sometimes to look,
And reade the sorrowes of my dying spright,
And happy rymes! bath’d in the sacred brooke
Of Helicon, whence she derived is,
When ye behold that Angels blessed looke,
My soules long-lacked food, my heavens blis,
Leaves, lines, and rymes, seeke her to please alone,
Whom if ye please, I care for other none! ”

“ You calme the storme that passion did begin,
Strong thrugh your cause, but by your vertue weak.
Dark is the world where your light shined never;
Well is he borne that may behold you ever.
IX. Long-while I sought to what I might compare
Those powrefull eies which lighten my dark spright;
Yet find I nought on earth, to which I dare
Resemble th’ymage of their goodly light.
Not to the sun, for they doo shine by night;
Nor to the moone, for they are changed never;
Nor to the starres, for they have purer sight ”

“ Mother of Love and of all worlds delight, 16
Without whose soverayne grace and kindly dewty
Nothing on earth seems fayre to fleshly sight,
Doe thou vouchsafe with thy love-kindling light
T’illuminate my dim and dulled eyne, 20
And beautifie this sacred hymne of thyne:
That both to thee, to whom I meane it most,
And eke to her whose faire immortall beame
Hath darted fyre into my feeble ghost,
That now it wasted is with woes extreame, 25
It may so please, that she at length will streame
Some deaw of grace into my withered hart,
After long sorrow and consuming smart. ”

“ Within the closet of her chastest bowre,
Th’eternall portion of her precious dowre, 250
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,
And letteth them her lovely face to see, 255
Wherof such wondrous pleasures they conceave,
And sweete contentment, that it doth bereave
Their soul of sense, through infinite delight,
And them transport from flesh into the spright.
In which they see such admirable things, 260
As carries them into an extasy ”

“ A goodly Ship with banners bravely dight,
And flag in her top-gallant, I espide
Through the maine sea making her merry flight.
Faire blewe the wind into her bosome right,
And th’heavens looked lovely all the while,
That she did seeme to daunce, as in delight,
And at her owne felicitie did smile.
All sodainely there clove unto her keele
A little fish that men call Remora,
Which stopt her course, and held her by the heele,
That winde nor tide could move her thence away.
Straunge thing me seemeth, that so small a thing
Should able be so great an one to wring. ”

“ What wondrous vertue is contayn’d in you,
The which both lyfe and death forth from you dart
Into the obiect of your mighty view?
For when ye mildly looke with lovely hew,
Then is my soule with life and love inspired:
But when ye lowre, or looke on me askew,
Then do I die, as one with lightning fyred.
But since that lyfe is more then death desyred,
Looke ever lovely, as becomes you best;
That your bright beams, of my weak eies admyred,
May kindle living fire within my brest.
Such life should be the honor of your light,
Such death the sad ensample of your might. ”

“ Much was I troubled in my heavie spright, 575
At sight of these sad spectacles forepast,
That all my senses were bereaved quight,
And I in minde remained sore agast,
Distraught twixt feare and pitie; when at last
I heard a voyce which loudly to me called, 580
That with the suddein shrill I was appalled.
“Behold,” said it, “and by ensample see,
That all is vanitie and griefe of minde,
Ne other comfort in this world can be,
But hope of heaven, and heart to God inclinde; 585
For all the rest must needs be left behinde.” ”

“ To all things faire, that kindleth lively fyre;
Light of thy lampe; which, shyning in the face,
Thence to the soule darts amorous desyre, 60
And robs the harts of those which it admyre;
Therewith thou pointest thy sons poysned arrow,
That wounds the life and wastes the inmost marrow.
How vainely then do ydle wits invent
That Beautie is nought else but mixture made 65
Of colours faire, and goodly temp’rament
Of pure complexions, that shall quickly fade
And passe away, like to a sommers shade ”

“ And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine,
At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse,
So torne and mangled with malicious forse; 250
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, 255
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. ”

“ Burnt th’Attick towres, and people slew with sword;
Nor how Mount Athos through exceeding might 45
Was digged downe; nor yron bands abord
The Pontick sea by their huge navy cast,
My volume shall renowne, so long since past.
Nor Hellespont trampled with horses feete,
When flocking Persians did the Greeks affray: 50
But my soft Muse, as for her power more meete,
Delights (with Phoebus friendly leave) to play
An easie running verse with tender feete.
And thou, dread sacred child, to thee alway
Let everlasting lightsome glory strive, 55
Through the worlds endles ages to survive. ”

“ “Thy lord shall never die, the whiles this verse
Shall live, and surely it shall live for ever:
For ever it shall live, and shall rehearse 255
His worthie praise, and vertues dying never,
Though death his soule doo from his bodie sever:
And thou thy selfe herein shalt also live;
Such grace the heavens doo to my verses give. ”

“ What more felicitie can fall to creature
Than to enioy delight with libertie, 210
And to be lord of all the workes of Nature,
To raine in th’aire from earth to highest skie,
To feed on flowres and weeds of glorious feature,
To take whatever thing doth please the eie? ”

“ Such fragrant flowres doe give most odorous smell;
But her sweet odour did them all excell.
[Footnote: LXIV. 7.—Bellamoures. I have not discovered what flower is here meant. C.]
LXV. The doubt which ye misdeeme, fayre Love, is vaine,
That fondly feare to lose your liberty,
When, losing one, two liberties ye gayne,
And make him bond that bondage earst did fly.
Sweet be the bands the which true love doth tye,
Without constraynt or dread of any ill:
The gentle birde feeles no captivity
Within her cage, but sings, and feeds her fill. ”

“ Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro,
And mortall men tossed by troublous fate
In restles seas of wretchednes and woe,
I wish I might this wearie life forgoe,
And shortly turne unto my happie rest,
Where my free spirite might not anie moe
Be vest with sights that doo her peace molest.
And ye, faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest
All heavenly grace and vertue shrined is,
When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest,
Loath this base world, and thinke of heavens blis:
And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures,
Yet thinke that death shall spoyle your goodly features. ”

“ Or who would ever care to doo brave deed,
Or strive in vertue others to excell,
If none should yeeld him his deserved meed,
Due praise, that is the spur of doing well?
For if good were not praised more than ill, 455
None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill.
Therefore the nurse of vertue I am hight,
And golden trompet of eternitie,
That lowly thoughts lift up to heavens hight,
And mortall men have powre to deifie: 460
Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heaven,
And Charlemaine amongst the starris seaven. ”

“ By knowledge wee do learne our selves to knowe,
And what to man, and what to God, wee owe.
From hence wee mount aloft unto the skie, 505
And looke into the christall firmament;
There we behold the heavens great hierarchie,
The starres pure light, the spheres swift movëment,
The spirites and intelligences fayre,
And angels waighting on th’Almighties chayre. 510
And there, with humble minde and high insight,
Th’eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe,
His love, his truth, his glorie, and his might,
And mercie more than mortall men can vew. ”

“ Bring therefore all the forces that ye may,
And lay incessant battery to her heart;
Playnts, prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrow, and dismay;
Those engins can the proudest love convert:
And, if those fayle, fall down and dy before her;
So dying live, and living do adore her. ”

“ Well worthie thou of immortalitie,
That long hast traveld*, by thy learned writs,
Olde Rome out of her ashes to revive,
And give a second life to dead decayes!
Needes must he all eternitie survive,
That can to other give eternall dayes.
Thy dayes therefore are endles, and thy prayse
Excelling all that ever went before:
And, after thee, gins Bartas hie to rayse
His heavenly Muse, th’Almightie to adore.
Live happie spirits, th’honour of your name,
And fill the world with never dying fame! ”

“ If gold, her locks are finest gold on ground;
If silver, her faire hands are silver sheene:
But that which fairest is but few behold:—
Her mind adornd with vertues manifold.
XVI. One day as I unwarily did gaze
On those fayre eyes, my loves immortall light,
The whiles my stonisht hart stood in amaze,
Through sweet illusion of her lookes delight,
I mote perceive how, in her glauncing sight,
Legions of Loves with little wings did fly,
Darting their deadly arrows, fyry bright,
At every rash beholder passing by. ”

“ And feare the harts, of all his enemyes;
And when him list, an universall night
Throughout the world he makes on everie wight;
As when his syre with Alcumena lay.
Thus dight, into the court he tooke his way, 1300
Both through the gard, which never him descride,
And through the watchmen, who him never spide:
Thenceforth he past into each secrete part,
Whereas he saw, that sorely griev’d his hart,
Each place abounding with fowle iniuries, 1305
And fild with treasure rackt with robberies;
Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts
Which had been slaine to serve the Apes beheasts ”

“ Fayre, when that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark
Her goodly light, with smiles she drives away.
But fayrest she, when so she doth display
The gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight,
Throgh which her words so wise do make their way,
To beare the message of her gentle spright.
The rest be works of Natures wonderment;
But this the worke of harts astonishment.
LXXXII. Ioy of my life! full oft for loving you
I blesse my lot, that was so lucky placed:
But then the more your owne mishap I rew,
That are so much by so meane love embased. ”