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To the learned Shepheard.

Collyn I see by thy new taken taske,

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some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes, That leades thy muse in haughtie verse to maske, and loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes. That lifts thy notes from Shepheardes vnto kings, So like the liuely Larke that mounting sings.

Thy louely Rosolinde seemes now forlorne,
and all thy gentle flockes forgotten quight,
Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne,
those prety pypes that did thy mates delight.
Those trustie mates, that loued thee so well,
Whom thou gau'st mirth : as they gaue thee the bell.

Yet as thou earst with thy sweete roundelayes,
didst stirre to glee our laddes in homely bowers:
So moughtst thou now in these refyned layes,
delight the dainty eares of higher powers.
And so mought they in their deepe skanning skill
Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quill.

And fare befall that Faerie Queene of thine,
in whose faire eyes loue linckt with vertue sits:
Enfusing by those bewties fiers deuyne,

such high conceites into thy humble wits,
As raised hath poore pastors oaten reede,
From rusticke tunes, to chaunt heroique deedes.

So mought thy Redcrosse knight with happy hand
victorious be in that faire Ilands right:
Which thou doest vaile in Type of Faery land
Elyzas blessed field, that Albion hight.

That shieldes her friends, and warres her mightie foes,
Yet still with people, peace, and plentie flowes.

But (iolly Shepheard) though with pleasing style, thou feast the humour of the Courtly traine: Let not conceipt thy setled sence beguile,

ne daunted be through enuy or disdaine.

Subiect thy dome to her Empyring spright,

From whence thy Muse, and all the world takes light.
Hobynoll.

FAyre Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately towne,
Runst paying tribute to the Ocean seas,

Let all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renowne
Be silent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes:
Nere thy sweet bankes, there liues that sacred crowne,
Whose hand strowes Palme and neuer-dying bayes,
Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring sowne
Present her with this worthy Poets prayes.

For he hath taught hye drifts in shepeherdes weedes,
And deepe conceites now singes in Faeries deedes.
R. S.

GR

Raue Muses march in triumph and with prayses,
Our Goddesse here hath giuen you leaue to land:
And biddes this rare dispenser of your graces
Bow downe his brow onto her sacred hand.

Desertes findes dew in that most princely doome,

In whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde:
So did that great Augustus erst in Roome
With leaues of fame adorne his Poets hedde.
Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene,
Euen of the fairest that the world hath seene.
H. B.

WHen stout Achilles heard of Helens rape

And what reuenge the States of Greece deuisd:
Thinking by sleight the fatall warres to scape,
In womans weedes him selfe he then disguisde:
But this deuise Vlysses soone did spy,

And brought him forth, the chaunce of warre to try.

When Spencer saw the fame was spredd so large,
Through Faery land of their renowned Queene:
Loth that his Muse should take so great a charge,
As in such haughty matter to be seene,
To seeme a shepeheard then he made his choice,
But Sydney heard him sing, and knew his voice.

Fayre Thamis, &c.] This poem and those that follow are omitted in 1596 Bodl.

And as Vlysses brought faire Thetis sonne
From his retyred life to menage armes :
So Spencer was by Sidneys speaches wonne,
To blaze her fame not fearing future harmes :
For well he knew, his Muse would soone be tyred
In her high praise, that all the world admired.

Yet as Achilles in those warlike frayes,

Did win the palme from all the Grecian Peeres :
So Spencer now to his immortall prayse,

Hath wonne the Laurell quite from all his feres.
What though his taske exceed a humaine witt,
He is excus'd, sith Sidney thought it fitt.
W. L.

To

O looke vpon a worke of rare deuise
The which a workman setteth out to view,
And not to yield it the deserued prise,
That vnto such a workmanship is dew,

Doth either proue the iudgement to be naught
Or els doth shew a mind with enuy fraught.

To labour to commend a peece of worke,
Which no man goes about to discommend,
Would raise a iealous doubt that there did lurke,
Some secret doubt, whereto the prayse did tend.
For when men know the goodnes of the wyne,
T'is needlesse for the boast to haue a sygne.

Thus then to shew my iudgement to be such
As can discerne of colours blacke, and white,
As alls to free my minde from enuies tuch,
That neuer giues to any man his right,

I here pronounce this workmanship is such.
As that no pen can set it forth too much.

And thus I hang a garland at the dore,
Not for to shew the goodnes of the ware:
But such hath beene the custome heretofore,
And customes very hardly broken are.

And when your tast shall tell you this is trew,
Then looke you giue your boast his vtmost dew.
Ignoto.

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To the right honourable Sir Christopher Hatton, Lord high Chauncelor of England. &c.

T

'Hose prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise
Whylom the Pillours of th'earth did sustaine,

And taught ambitious Rome to tyrannise,
And in the neck of all the world to rayne,
Oft from those graue affaires were wont abstaine,
With the sweet Lady Muses for to play:
So Ennius the elder Africane,

So Maro oft did Caesars cares allay.

So you great Lord, that with your counsell sway
The burdeine of this kingdom mightily,
With like delightes sometimes may eke delay,
The rugged brow of carefull Policy:

And to these ydle rymes lend litle space,

Which for their titles sake may find more grace.

To the right honourable the Lo. Burleigh Lo. high
Threasurer of England.

To you right noble Lord, whose carefull brest
To menage of most graue affaires is bent,
And on whose mightie shoulders most doth rest
The burdein of this kingdomes gouernement,

As the wide compasse of the firmament,
On Atlas mighty shoulders is vpstayd;
Vnfitly I these ydle rimes present,
The labor of lost time, and wit vnstayd:
Yet if their deeper sence be inly wayd,

And the dim vele, with which from comune vew
Their fairer parts are hid, aside be layd.
Perhaps not vaine they may appeare to you.

Such as they be, vouchsafe them to receaue,
And wipe their faults out of your censure graue.

E. S.

1. 12 The] he 1590

To the right Honourable the Earle of Oxenford,
Lord high Chamberlayne of England. &c.

R

Eceiue most Noble Lord in gentle gree,
The vnripe fruit of an vnready wit:
Which by thy countenaunce doth craue to bee
Defended from foule Enuies poisnous bit.
Which so to doe may thee right well besit,
Sith th'antique glory of thine auncestry
Vnder a shady vele is therein writ,
And eke thine owne long liuing memory,
Succeeding them in true nobility:

And also for the loue, which thou doest beare
To th' Heliconian ymps, and they to thee,
They vnto thee, and thou to them most deare:
Deare as thou art vnto thy selfe, so loue

That loues and honours thee, as doth behoue.

To the right honourable the Earle of

Northumberland.

THe sacred Muses have made alwaies clame
To be the Nourses of nobility,

And Registres of euerlasting fame,
To all that armes professe and cheualry.

Then by like right the noble Progeny,

Which them succeed in fame and worth, are tyde
T'embrace the seruice of sweete Poetry,

By whose endeuours they are glorifide,

And eke from all, of whom it is enuide,

To patronize the authour of their praise,

Which gives them life, that els would soone haue dide,
And crownes their ashes with immortall baies.

To thee therefore right noble Lord I send

This present of my paines, it to defend.

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