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CARE-CHARMER Sleep, son of the sable Night;
Brother to Death, in silent darkuess born:
Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care, return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventur'd youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain;
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

None other fame mine unambitious Muse
Affected ever, but t'eternize thee:
All other honours do my hopes refuse,
Which meaner-priz'd and momentary be.
For God forbid I should my papers blot
With mercenary lines, with servile pen;
Praising virtues in them that have them pot,
Basely attending on the hopes of men.
No, no; my verse respects not Thames, nor theatres,
Nor seeks it to be known unto the great:
But Avon, poor in fame, and poor in waters,
Shall have my song; where Delia hath ber seat.
Avon shall be my Thames, and she my song;
No other prouder brooks shall hear my wrong.



SONNET LVI. LET others sing of knights and palladines,

UNHAPPY pen, and ill-accepted lines, In aged accents, and untimely words;

That intiinate in vain my chaste desire; Paint shadows in imaginary lines,

My chaste desire, which from dark sorrow shines, Which well the reach of their high wits records:

Enkindi'd by her eyes' celestial fire. But I must sing of thee, and those fair eyes; Celestial fire, and unrespecting pow'rs! Authentic shall my verse in time to come; Which pity not the wounds made by their migbt; When yet th’unborn shall say, “ Lo where she lies, Show'd in these lines the work of careful hours, Whose beauty made him speak, that else was dumb." The sacrifice here offer'd to her sight. These are the arks, the trophies I erect,

But since she weighs them not, this rests for me; That fortify thy name against old age;

I'll moan myself, and hide the wrong I have; And these thy sacred virtues must protect,

And so content me that her frowns should be Against the dark and time's consuming rage. To m'infant style, the cradle and tbe grare. Though th' errour of my youth in them appear,

Wbat though my Muse no honour get thereby? Suffice they show I liv'd and lov'd thee dear.

Each bird sings to herself, and so will l.


SONNET LVII. As to the Roman that would free his land,

Lo here the impost of a faith entire, His errour was his honour and renown;

Which love doth pay, and her disdain extorts! And more the fame of his mistaking band,

Behold the message of a chaste desire, Than if he had the tyrant overthrown.

Which tells the world how much my grief imports! So, Delia, hath mine errour made me known, These tributary passions, beauty's due, And my deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame,

I send those eyes the cabinets of love; Than if I had the victory mine own,

That cruelty herself might grieve to view And thy hard heart had yielded up the same. Th' affliction her unkind disdain dotb move. And so likewise renowned is thy blame,

And how I live cast down from off all mirth, Thy cruelty, thy glory. O strange case,

Pensive alone, only but with despair: That errours should be grac'd, that merit shame; My joys abortive perish in their birth; And sin of frowns bring honour to the face !

My griefs long-liv’d, and care succeeding care. Yet happy, Delia, that thou wast unkind; (mind. This is my state; and Delia's heart is such : Though happier far, if thou would'st change thy I say no more-Í fear I said too much.


LIKE as the lute delights, or else dislikes,
As is his art that plays upon the same;
So sounds my Muse, according as she strikes
On my heart-strings high tun'd unto her famne.
Her touch doth cause the warble of the sound,
Which here I yield in lamentable wise;
A wailing descant on the sweetest ground,
Whose due reports give honour to her eyes.
Else harsh my style, untunable my Muse;
Hoarse sounds the voice, that praiseth not her name:
If any pleasing relish here I use,
Then judge the world her beauty gives the same.
For no ground else could make the music quch,
Nor other hand could give so true a touch.

Now each creature joys the other,

Passing happy days and hours;
One bird reports unto another,

In the fall of silver show'rs;
Whilst the Earth, our common mother,

Hath her bosom deck'd with flow'rs.

Whilst the greatest torch of Heaven,

With bright rays warms Flora's lap;
Making nights and days both even,

Cheering plants with fresher sap;
My field of Aowers quite bereaven,

Wants refresh of butter hap.

Echo, daughter of the air,

Those golden hairs incase, (Babbling guest of rocks and hills)

Late spread unto the wind : Knows the name of my fierce fair,

Thou mad'st loose grace unkind; And sounds the accents of my ills.

Gav'st bridle to their words, art to their pace. Each thing pities my despair,

O Honour, it is thou Whilst that she ber lover kills.

That mak'st that stealth, which Love doth free allow.



Whilst that she (O cruel maid !)

It is thy work that brings Doth me and my love despise;

Our griefs and torments thus: My life's fourish is decay'd,

But thou fierce lord of nature and of love, That depended on her eyes:

The qualifier of kings; But her will must be obey'd ;

What dost thou here with us,
And well he ends, for love who dies.

That are below thy pow'r, shut from above?
Go, and from us remove;
Trouble the mighties' sleep;
Let us neglected base
Live still without thy grace,

And th' use of th' ancient happy ages keep.

Let 's love this life of ours

Can make no truce with Time that all devours. O HAPPY, golden age!

Let's love the Sun doth set, and rise again; Not for that rivers ran

But when as our short light
With streams of milk, and honey dropp'd from trees; Comes once to set, it makes eternal night.
Not that the Earth did gage
Unto the husbandman
Her voluntary fruits, free without fees. :
Not for no cold did freeze,
Nor any cloud beguile

Th' eternal flow'ring spring,
Wherein liv'd ev'ry thing;
And whereon th' Heavens perpetually did smile:
Not for do ship had brought

O BEAUTY, (beams, nay, flame
From foreign shores, or wars or wares ill sought. Of that great lamp of light)

That shines awhile with faine, But only for that name,

But presently makes night! That idle name of wind;

Like winter's short liv'd bright, Tbat idol of deceit, that empty sound

Or summer's sudden gleams; Call'd Honour; which became

How much more dear, so much loss-lasting beams. The tyrant of the mind, And so torments our nature without ground, Wing'd Love away doth fly, Was not yet vainly found :

And with it Time doth bear; Nor yet sad griefs imparts,

And both take suddenly Amidst the sweet delights

The sweet, the fain, the dear. Of joyful, am'rous wights.

A shining day and clear Nor were his hard laws known to free-born hearts; Succeeds an obscene night; But golden lavs, like these

And sorrow is the hue of sweet delight. Which Nature wrote-That 's lawful, which doth please.

With what then dost thou swell,

O youth of new-born day! Then amongst flow'rs and springs,

Wherein doth thy pride dwell, Making delightful sport,

O Beauty made of clay! Sat lovers without conflict, without fame;

Not with so swift a way And nymphs and shepherds sings

The headlong current flies,
Mixing in wanton sort

As do the sparkling rays of two fair eyes.
Whisp'rings with songs, then kisses with the same
Which from affection came.

Do not thyself betray
The naked virgin then

With wantonizing years; Her roses fresh reveals,

O Beauty, traitors gay! Which now her veil conceals.

Thy melting life that wears, The tender apples in her bosom seen ;

Appearing, disappears; And oft in rivers clear,

And with thy flying days, The lovers with their loves consorting were. Ends all thy good of price, thy fair of praise.

Honour, thou first did'st close
The spring of all delight;
Denying water to the am'rous thirst,
Thou taught'st fair eyes to lose
The glory of their light :
Restrain'd from men, and on themselves revers'd.
Thou in a lawn did'st first

Trust not, vain creditor,
Thy apt-deceived view,
In thy false counsellor,
That never tells thee true.
Thy form and flatter'd hue,
Which shall so soon transpass,
Is far more fair thap is thy looking-glass.


Enjoy thy April now,

O bad that soul, which bonour brought to rest Whilst it doth freely sbide ;

Too soon, not left, and reft the world of all This lightning flash and show,

What man could show which we perfection call! With that clear spirit of thine,

This precious piece had sorted with the best. Will suddenly decline :

But, ah! wide-fester'd wounds (that never shall, And thou fair murth’ring eyes

Nor must be clos'd) unto fresh bleeding fall. Shall be Lore's tombs, where now his cradle lies. Ah, Memory ! what needs this new artist? Old trembling age will come,

Yet blessed grief that sweetness can impart, With wrinkld cheeks and stains,

Since thou art bless'd-wrongly do I complain; With motion troublesome;

Whatever weights my heavy thoughts sustain, With skin and bloodless weaves,

Dear feels my soul for thee I know my part. That lively visage reaven,

Nor be my weakuess to thy rites a stain ; And made deform'd and old,

Rites to aright, life, blood, would not refrais. Hates sight of glass it lord so to behold.

Assist me then, that life what thine did part. Thy gold and scarlet shall

Time may bring forth what time hath yet suppress'd, Pale silver-colour be;

In whom thy loss hath laid to utter waste Thy row of pearls shall fall

The wreck of time, untimely all defac'd, Like wither'd leaves from tree;

Remaining as the tomb of life deceas'd: And thou shalt shortly see

Where in my heart the highest room thou hast : Thy face and hair to grow

There, truly there, thy earthly being is plac'd : All plough'd with furrows, over-swol'a with snow. Triumph of death !-In earth bow more than bless'd!

Bebold (O that thou were now to behold!) That which on Flora's breast,

This finish'd long perfection's part begun; All fresh and flourishing,

The test but piec'd, as left by thee undone. Aurora newly dress'd

Pardon, bless'd soul, presumption over bold: Saw in her dawning spring;

If love and zeal hath to this errour rup, Quite dry and languishing,

'T is zealous love; love that bath never done, Depriv'd of honour quite,

Nor can enough, though justly here controll'd. Day-closing Hesperus beholds at night.

But since it hath no other scope to go, Fair is the lily; fair

Nor other purpose but to honour thee; The rose; of flow'rs the eye!

That thine may shine, where all the graces be : Both wither in the air,

And that my thoughts (like smallest streams that Their beauteous colours die;

Pay to their sea their tributary fee) [flow, And so at length shall lie

Do strive, yet have no means to quit por free Depriv'd of former grace,

That mighty debt of infinites I owe. The lilies of thy breasts, the roses of thy face.

To thy great worth, which time to times enroll, What then will it avail,

Wonder of men ! sole børn! soul of thy kind! O youth advised ill!

Complete in all-but heav'nly was thy mind, In lap of Beauty frail

For wisdom, goodness, sweetness, fairest soul ! To nurse a wayward will,

Too good to wish; ton fair for Earth ; refin'd Like snake in sun-warın hill ?

For Heav'n, where all true glory rests confald: Pluck, pluck betime thy flow'r,

And where but there no life without control
That springs, and parcheth in one short hour,

O when from this account, this cast-up sum,
This reck’ning made the audit of my woe!
Some time of race my swelling passions knowe;

How work my thoughts ! My sense is stricken dumb, MOST EXCELLENT SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. Which all fall short. Who knew thee best to know,

That would thee more than words could ever show;

There lives no wit that may thy prayer become: To thee, pure spirt, to thee alone addressid Is this joint-work, by double int'rest thine:

And rest fair monuments of thy fair fame, Thine by thine own, and what is done of mine

Though not complete. Nor can we reach in thought, Inspir'd by thee, thy secret pow'r impress'd. My Muse with thine itself dar'd to combine,

What on that goodly piece Time would have

wrought: As mortal staff with that which is divipe :

Had divers so spar'd that life (but life) to frame Let thy fair beams give lustre to the rest.

The rest: alas, such loss! The world hath nought

Can equal it—nor (O) more grievance brought! That Israel's king may deign his own transform'd

Yet what remains, must ever crown thy naine. In substance no, but superficial tire ; And English guis'd in some sort may aspire,

Receive these hints; these obsequies receive; To better grace thee what the vulgar focm'd.

(If any mark of thy secret spirit thou bear) His sacred tunes age after age admire ;

Made only thine, and no name else must wear. Nations grow great in pride and pure desire, I can no more, dear soul; I take my leare: So to excel in boly rites perform'd.

My sorrow strives to mount the highest sphere.






(As things best set) must ever testify

And show the worth of noble Montague:

And so long as the walls of piety

Stand, so long shall stand the memory of you.

And Bath, and Wells, and Winchester shall show

Their fair repairs to all posterity ; LORD BISHOP OF WINCHESTER; DEAN OF THE CHAPEL, And how much bless'd and fortunate they were, AND ONE OF HIS MAJESTY'S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY- That ever-gracious hand did plant you there.

Besides, you have not only built up walls,

But also (worthier edifices) men; ALTHOUGH you have, out of your proper store, By whom you shall have the memorials, The best munition that may fortify

And everlasting honour of the pen. A noble heart; as no man may have more,

That whensoever you shall come to make Against the batt'ries of mortality:

Your exit from this scene, wherein you have Yet, rev'rend lord, vouchsafe me leave to bring Perform'd go noble parts; you then shall take One weapon more unto your furnishment,

Your leave with honour, have a glorious grave! That you th' assaults of this close vanquishing, “ For when can men go better to their rest, And secret wasting sickness may prevent :

Than when they are esteem'd and loved best?"
For that myself have struggled with it too,
And know the worst of all that it can do.
And let me tell you this, you never could
Have found a gentler warring enemy,
And one that with more fair proceeding would
Encounter you without extremity;
Nor give more time to make resistances,

And to repair your breaches, than will this.
For whereas other sicknesses surprise

Our spirits at unawares, disweap’ning suddenly
All sense of understanding in such wise,

As that they lay us dead before we die,
Or fire us out of our inflamed fort,


THE FITTEST HARMONY OP WORDS THAT COMPORTS With raving phrensies in a fearful sort :

This comes and steals us by degrees away ;
And yet not that without our privity.
They rap us hence, as vultures do their prey,
Confounding us with tortures instantly.
This fairly kills, they fouly murther us,
Trip up our heels before we can discern.
This gives us time of treaty, to discuss

ALL THE WORTHY LOVERS AND LEARNED Our suff'ring, and the cause thereof to learn.

PROFESSORS OF RHYME WITHIN HIS MA. Besides, therewith we oftentimes have truce

For many months; sometimes for many years ;
And are permitted to enjoy the use

Of study: and although our body wears,

ABOUT a year since, upon the great reproach Our wit remains; our speech, our memory. Fail not, or come before ourselves to die.

given the professors of rhyme, and the use hereof, We part together, and we take our leave

I wrote a private letter, as a defence of my own Of friends, of kindred : we dispose our state, undertakings in that kind, to a learned gentle. And yield up fairly what we did receive, And all our buss'nesses accommodate.

man, a friend of mine, then in court. Which I So that we cannot say we were thrust ont,

did, rather to confirm myself in mine own But we depart from hence in quiet sort;

courses, and to hold him from being wou from The foe with whom we have the battle fought, us, than with any desire to publish the same to Hath not subdued us, but got our fort. And this disease is held most incident

the world. To the best natures, and most innocent.

But now, seeing the times to promise a more And therefore, rev'rend lord, there cannot be regard to the present condition of our writings, A gentler passage, than there is hereby Unto that port, wherein we shall be free

in respect of onr sovereign's' happy inclination From all the storms of worldly misery.

this way; whereby we are rather to expect an And though it show us daily in our glass,

encouragement to go on with what we do, than Our fading leaf turn’d to a yellow hue ; And how it withers as the sap doth pass,

that any innovation should check us, with a show And what we may expect is to ensue.

of what it would do in another kind, and yet do Yet that I know disquiets not your mind, nothing but deprave : I have now given a greater Who knows the brittle metal of mankind;

body to the same argument; and here present it And have all comforts virtue can beget, And most the conscience of well-acted days :

to your view, under the patronage of a noble Which all those monuments which you have set On holy ground, to your perpetual praise,

King James I.


earl, who ip blood and nature is interested to And the rather, for that this detractor (whose take our part in this cause, with others who can.

commendable rhyme, albeit now himself an enemy

to rhyme, have given heretofore to the world the not, I know, but hold dear the monuments that best notice of his worth) is a man of fair parts, have been left unto the world in this manner of and good reputation, and therefore the reproach composition ; and who, I trust, will take in forcibly cast from such a hand, may throw dowa good part this my defence, if not as it is my par- long time build up again, especially upon the slip

more at once than the labours of many shall in ticular, yet in respect of the cause I undertake, pery foundation of opinion, and the world's inconwhich I here invoke you all to protect.

stancy, which knows not well what it would bare, and



Discit enim citius, meminitque libentinus illud

Quod quis deridet quam quod probat et veneratur, DEFENCE OF RHYME,

And he who is thus become our unkind adversary, must pardon us if we be as jealous of our fame and reputation, as he is desirous of credit by his new old art, and must consider that we can

not, in a thing that concerns us so near, but have WILLIAM HERBERT,

a feeling of the wrong done, wherein every rhymer in this universal island, as well as myself, stands interested; so that if his charity had equally

drawn with his learning, he would have forborn to The general custom and use of rhyme in this king- procure the envy of so powerful a number upon dom, noble lord, having been so long (as if from a him, from whom he cannot but expect the return grant of Nature) held unquestionable, made me to of a like measure of blame, and only have made imagine that it lay altogether out of the way of way to his own grace, by the proof of bis ability, contradiction, and was become so natural, as we

without the disparaging of us, who would bare should never have had a thought to cast it off into been glad to have stood quietly by him, and perreproach, or be made to think that it ill became haps commended his adventure, seeing that ever our language: but, now I see, when there is oppo- more of one science another may be born, and sition made to all things in the world by words, we that these sallies, made out of the quarter of our must now at length likewise fall to contend for set knowledges, are the gallant proffers only of words themselves, and make a question whether attemptive spirits, and commendable, though they they be right or not. For we are to!d how that work no other effect than make a bravado: and I our measures go wrong, all rhyming is gross, vulgar, know it were indeceus, et morosum niinis, alienæ harbarous: which, if it be so, we have lost much industriæ modum ponere. We could well have Jabour to no purpose ; and for my own particular, allowed of his numbers, had he not disgraced our I cannot but blame the fortune of the times, and rhyme, which both custom and Nature doth most my own genius, that cast me upon so wrong a powerfully defend ; custom that is before all law, course, drawn with the current of custom and an

nature that is above all art. Every language hath unexamined example. Having been first encout her proper number or measure fitted to use and raged and framed thereunto by your most worthy delight, which, custom entertaining by the allowand honourable mother, and received the firsdance of the ear, doth indenise and make natural. notion for the formal ordering of those compo- All verse is but a frame of words confined withsitions at Willon, which I must ever acknowledge in certain measure, differing from the ordinary to have been my best school, and thereof always speech, and introduced, the better to express am to hold a feeling and grateful memory. After- men's conceits, both for delight and memory; ward drawn further on by the well-liking and ap- which frame of words, consisting of rythmus or probation of my worthy lord, the fosterer of me

metrum, number or measure, are disposed iplo and my Muse, 1 adventured to bestow all my divers fashions, according to the humour of the whole powers therein, perceiving it agree so well, composer, and the set of the time: and these both with the complexion of the times, and my rhythmi, as Aristotle saith, are familiar amongst own constitution, as I found not wherein I might all nations, and è naturali et sponte fusa compobetter employ me: but yet now, upon the great sitione. And they fall as naturally already in our discovery of these new measures threatening to language as ever art can make them, being such overthrow the whole state of rhyme in this king as the ear of itself doth marshal in their proper dom, I must either stand out to defend, or else be rooms, and they of themselves will not willingly be forced to forsake myself, and give over all; and pat out of rank, and that in such a verse as best though irresolution and a self distrust be the most comports with the nature of our language: and apparent faults of my nature, and that the least for vur rhyme (which is an excellency added to check of reprehension, if it favour of reason, will this work of measure, and a harmony far happien as easily shake my resolution as any man's living ; than any proportion antiquity could ever show us) yet in this case I know not how I am grown more doth add more grace, and hath more of delight resolved, and before I sink, willing to examine than ever bare namhers, howsoever they can be what those powers of judgment are, that must bear forced to run in our slow language, cau possibly me down, and beat me off from the station of my yield; which, whether it be deriv'd of rhythmus, profession, which by the law of nature I am set to

or of romance, which were songs the Bards and defend.

Druids above rhymes used, and therefore were

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