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Love, that liveth and reigneth in my thought,
That built his seat within my captive breast,
Clad in the arms wherein with me he fought,
Oft in my face he doth his banner rest.
She that me taught to love and suffer pain,
My doubtful hope and eke my hot desire
With shamefast cloak to shadow and refrain,
Her smiling grace converteth straight to ire.
The coward Love then to the heart apace
Taketh his flight, whereas he lurks and plains,"
His purpose lost, and dare not show his face.
For my lord's guilt thus faultless bide I pains.
Yet from my lord shall not my foot remove;
Sweet is his death that takes his end by love.





Resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts, encreased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.
A head where wisdom mysteries did frame;
Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain
As on a stithes where that some work of fame
Was daily wrought to turn to Britain's gain.
A visage stern and mild; where both did grow,
Vice to condemn, in virtue to rejoice;
Amid great storms, whom grace assured so
To live upright and smile at fortune's choice.
A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;
That reft · Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unperfected, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.
A tongue that served in foreign realms his king;
Whose courteous talk to virtue did enflame
Each noble heart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth by travail unto fame.
An eye whose judgment none affectó could blind,
Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile;
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught, reposed, void of guile.
A heart where dread was never so impressed,
To hide the thought that might the truth ad-

In neither fortune lost, nor yet repressed,
To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance.
A valiant corse, where force and beauty met;
Happy, alas, too happy, but for foes !
Lived, and ran the race, that Nature set:
Of manhood's shape, where she the mold did

But to the heavens that simple soul is fled,
Which left with such as covet Christ know
Witness of faith that never shall be dead,
Sent for our health, but not received so.

From Tuscan came my lady's worthy race;
Fair Florence was sometime her ancient seat;
The Western isle whose pleasant shore doth face
Wild Camber's cliffs did give her lively heat;
Fostered she was with milk of Irish breast;
Her sire, an earl; her dame, of princes' blood;
From tender years in Britain she doth rest,
With a king's child, where she tasteth costly food;
Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyes;
Bright is her hue, and Geraldine she hight;4 10
Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine;
And Windsor, alas, doth chase me from her

Her beauty of kind, her virtues from above.
Happy is he, that can obtain her love!




Martial, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

1 float ?mixes ' laments is named 5 from nature

1 equal a moderate 3 anvil 4 bereft affection

Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost;
The earth his bones, the heavens possess his

ghost !



Within the walls to lead and draw the same,
And place it eke amid the palace court,
Whether of guile, or Troyës fate it would.
Capys, with some of judgment more discreet,
Willed it to drown, or underset with flame, 50
The suspect present of the Greek's deceit,
Or bore and gauge the hollow caves uncouth;
So diverse ran the giddy people's mind.

Lo! foremost of a rout that followed him,
Kindled Laöcoön hasted from the tower,
Crying far off: 'O wretched citizens,
What so great kind of frenzy freteth you ? .
Deem ye the Greeks, our enemies, to be gone?
Or any Greekish gifts can you suppose
Devoid of guile? Is so Ulysses known? 60
Either the Greeks are in this timber hid,
Or this an engine is to annoy our walls,
To view our towers, and overwhelm our town.
Here lurks some craft. Good Troyans give no trust
Unto this horse, for, whatsoever it be,
I dread the Greeks, yea when they offer gifts.'"






They whisted ' all, with fixed face attent,
When Prince Æneas from the royal seat
Thus 'gan to speak: "O Queen, it is thy will
I should renew a woe cannot be told;
How that the Greeks did spoil and overthrow
The Phrygian wealth and wailful ? realm of Troy.
Those ruthful things that I myself beheld,
And whereof no small part fell to my share;
Which to express, who could refrain from tears ?
What Myrmidon? or yet what Dolopes ?
What stern Ulysses' waged soldier ?
And lo! moist night now from the welkin falls,
And stars declining counsel us to rest;
But since so great is thy delight to hear
Of our mishaps and Troyës last decay,
Though to record the same my mind abhors
And plaint eschews, yet thus will I begin: -
The Greekës chieftains, all irked with the war,
Wherein they wasted had so many years,
And oft repulsed by fatal destiny,
A huge horse made, high raised like a hill,
By the divine science of Minerva, -
Of cloven fir compacted were his ribs, –
For their return a feigned sacrifice, –
The fame whereof so wandered it at point.
In the dark bulk they closed bodies of men
Chosen by lot, and did enstuff by stealth
The hollow womb with armed soldiers.

There stands in sight an isle hight Tenedon,
Rich and of fame while Priam's kingdom stood,
Now but a bay and road unsure for ship. 31
Hither them secretly the Greeks withdrew,
Shrouding themselves under the desert shore;
And, weening we they had been fled and gone,
And with that wind had fet the land of Greece,
Troy discharged her long continued dole.*
The gates cast up, we issued out to play,
The Greekish camp desirous to behold,
The places void and the forsaken coasts.
Here Pyrrhus' band, there fierce Achilles pight; 6
Here rode their ships, there did their battles join.
Astonied some the scathful gift beheld,
Behight' by vow unto the chaste Minerve,
All wondering at the hugeness of the horse.
And first of all Timætes gan advise


Alas, my lord, my haste was all too hot,
I shut my glass before you gazed your fill,
And, at a glimpse, my silly self have spied
A stranger troop than any yet were seen.
Behold, my lord, what monsters muster here,
With angel's face, and harmful hellish hearts,
With smiling looks, and deep deceitful thoughts,
With tender skins, and stony cruel minds,
With stealing steps, yet forward feet to fraud.
Behold, behold, they never stand content,
With God, with kind, with any help of art,
But curl their locks with bodkins and with braids,
But dye their hair with sundry subtle sleights,
But paint and slick till fairest face be foul,
But bumbast, bolster, frizzle, and perfume.
They mar with musk the balm which nature made
And dig for death in delicatest dishes.
The younger sort come piping on apace,
In whistles made of fine enticing wood,
Till they have caught the birds for whom they

The elder sort go stately stalking on,
And on their backs they bear both land and fee,
Castles and towers, revenues and receipts,
Lordships and manors, fines, yea, farms and all.
What should these be ? Speak you, my lovely lord.




I became silent ? lamentable 8 fetched, reached 4 sorrow

6 camped, tendebat 6 harmful promised

This shalt thou see, but great is the unrest
That thou must bide before thou canst attain
Unto the dreadful place where these remain. 182

And with these words as I upraised stood,
And 'gan to follow her that straightforth paced,
Ere I was ware, into a desert wood
We now were come; where, hand in hand em-

braced, She led the way, and through the thick

traced, As, but I had been guided by her might, It was no way for any mortal wight.




They be not men: for why? they have no beards.
They be no boys, which wear such side' long gowns.
They be no gods, for all their gallant gloss.
They be no devils, I trow, which seem so saintish.
What be they? women? masking in men's weeds?
With Dutchkin doublets, and with jerkins jagged ?
With Spanish spangs, and rufís fetched out of

32 With high-copped' hats, and feathers flaunt-a

flaunt? They be so sure, even wo to men indeed. Nay then, my lord, let shut the glass apace, High time it were for my poor muse to wink," Since all the hands, all paper, pen, and ink, Which ever yet this wretched world possessed, Cannot describe this sex in colors due ! No, no, my lord, we gazed have enough; And I too much, God pardon me therefor. Better look off, than look an ace too far; And better mum, than meddle overmuch. But if my glass do like my lovely lord, We will espy, some sunny summer's day, To look again, and see some seemly sights. Meanwhile, my muse right humbly doth beseech, That my good lord accept this vent'rous verse, Until my brains may better stuff devise.


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BUCKHURST (1536–1608)

The dreadful place, that you will dread to hear.



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Whereby I knew that she a goddess was, And therewithal resorted to my mind My thought, that late presented me the glass Of brittle state, of cares that here we find, Of thousand woes to silly men assigned; And how she now bid me come and behold, To see with eye that erst in thought I rolled. 168

Flat down I fell, and with all reverence Adored her, perceiving now that she, A goddess sent by godly providence, In earthly shape thus showed herself to me, To wail and rue this world's uncertainty: 173 And while I honored thus her god-head's might, With plaining voice these words to me she shright:8

“I shall thee guide first to the griesly ’ lake, And thence unto the blissful place of rest, Where thou shalt see and hear the plaint they make, That whilom here bare swing & among the best.

A deadly gulf where nought but rubbish grows, With foul black swelth' in thickened lumps that

lies, Which up in the air such stinking vapours throws, That over there may fly no fowl but dies, Choked with the pestilent savours that arise. Hither we come, whence forth we still did pace, In dreadful fear amid the dreadful place. 217


And first within the porch and jaws of Hell Sat deep Remorse of Conscience, all besprent With tears: and to herself oft would she tell Her wretchedness, and cursing never stent' To sob and sigh; but ever thus lament With thoughtful care, as she that all in vain Would wear and waste continually in pain.



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* going

2 called




His knuckles knobbed, his flesh deep dented in, With tawed hands, and hard y-tanned skin. 273

The morrow gray no sooner hath begun To spread his light, even peeping in our eyes, When he is up and to his work y-run; But let the night's black misty mantels rise, And with foul dark never so much disguise The fair bright day, yet ceaseth he no while, But hath his candles to prolong his toil. 280


By him lay heavy Sleep, the cousin of Death Flat on the ground, and still as any stone, A very corpse, save yielding forth a breath. Small keep' took he whom Fortune frowned on Or whom she lifted up into the throne Of high renown; but as a living death, So dead alive, of life he drew the breath. 287

The body's rest, the quiet of the heart, The travail's ease, the still night's fear was he. And of our life in earth the better part, Reaver of sight, and yet in whom we see Things oft that tide, and oft that never be. Without respect esteeming equally King Cresus' pomp, and Irus' poverty. 294

Her eyes unsteadfast, rolling here and there, Whirled on each place, as place that vengeance

brought, So was her mind continually in fear, Tossed and tormented with the tedious thought Of those detested crimes which she had wrought; With dreadful cheer and looks thrown to the sky, Wishing for death, and yet she could not die. 231 Next saw we Dread, all trembling how he

shook, With foot uncertain proferred here and there; Benumbed of speech, and with a ghastly look Searched every place all pale and dead for fear, His cap borne up with staring' of his hair, Stoynd ? and amazed at his own shade for dread, And fearing greater dangers than was need. 238

And next within the entry of this lake Sat fell Revenge, gnashing her teeth for ire, Devising means how she may vengeance take, Never in rest till she have her desire; But frets within so farforth 3 with the fire Of wreaking flames, that now determines she To die by Death, or venged by Death to be. 245

When fell Revenge with bloody foul pretence Had shown herself as next in order set, With trembling limbs we softly parted thence, Till in our eyes another sigh we met: When from my heart a sight forthwith I fet," Rueing, alas! upon the woeful plight Of Misery, that next appeared in sight.

252 His face was lean, and somewhat pined away, And eke his hands consumed to the bone, And what his body was I cannot say, For on his carcass raiment had he none Save clouts and patches, pieced one by one. With staff in hand, and scrip on shoulders cast, His chief defence against the winter's blast. 259

His food, for most, was wild fruits of the trees, Unless sometime some crumbs fell to his share, Which in his wallet long, God wot, kept he. As on the which full daintily would he fare; His drink the running stream, his cup the bare Of his palm closed, his bed the hard cold ground. To this poor life was Misery y-bound. 266

Whose wretched state when we had well beheld With tender ruth on him and on his feres In thoughtful cares, forth then our pace we held. And by and by, another shape appears Of greedy Care, still brushing up the breres,?

And next in order sad Old Age we found, His beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind, With drooping cheer still poring on the ground, As on the place where nature him assigned To rest, when that the Sisters had untwined His vital thread, and ended with their knife The fleeting course of fast declining life. 301

There heard we him with broken and hollow

plaint Rue with himself his end approaching fast, And all for nought his wretched mind torment With sweet remembrance of his pleasures past, And fresh delights of lusty youth forwast. Recounting which, how would he sob and shriek, And to be young again of Jove beseek!“ 308


But and 5 the cruel fates so fixed be That time forepast cannot return again, This one request of Jove yet prayed he: That in such withered plight, and wretched pain As Eld, accompanied with his lothsome train, Had brought on him, all were it woe and grief, He might a while yet linger forth his life, 315

And not so soon descend into the pit, Where Death, when he the mortal corps hath



I standing on end 4 fetched chiefly

2 astounded 3 excessively companions

7 briars



1 heed 2 happen 3 wasted away beseech if


With retchless' hand in grave doth cover it,
Thereafter never to enjoy again
The gladsome light, but, in the ground y-lain,
In depth of darkness waste and wear to nought,
As he had never into the world been brought. 322

But who had seen him, sobbing how he stood
Unto himself, and how he would bemoan
His youth forepast, as though it wrought him good
To talk of youth, all were his youth foregone,
He would have mused, and marvelled much

whereon This wretched Age should life desire so fain, 328 And knows full well life doth but length his pain.

Crook backed he was, toothshaken, and blear

eyed, Went on three feet, and sometime crept on four, With old lame bones, that rattled by his side, His scalp all piled and he with elde forlore; 3 His withered fist still knocking at death's door, Fumbling and drivelling as he draws his breath, For brief, the shape and messenger of Death. 336

And fast by him pale Malady was placed, Sore sick in bed, her colour all foregone, Bereft of stomach, savour, and of taste, Ne could she brook no meat but broths alone. Her breath corrupt, her keepers every one Abhorring her, her sickness past recure, Detesting physic and all physic's cure. 343

But oh! the doleful sight that then we see; We turned our look, and on the other side A grieslys shape of Famine mought we see, With greedy looks, and gaping mouth that cried, And roared for meat as she should there have died; Her body thin and bare as any bone, Whereto was left nought but the case alone. 350

And that, alas ! was gnawen on everywhere, All full of holes, that I ne mought refrain From tears, to see how she her arms could tear, And with her teeth gnash on the bones in vain; When all for nought she fain would so sustain Her starved corse, that rather seemed a shade Than any substance of a creature made. 357

Great was her force, whom stone wall could

not stay, Her tearing nails snatching at all she saw; With gaping jaws, that by no means y-may Be satisfied from hunger of her maw, But eats herself as she that hath no law; Gnawing, alas ! her carcass all in vain, 363 Where you may count each sinew, bone, and vein.

On her while we thus firmly fixed our eyes, That bled for ruth of such a dreary sight, Lo, suddenly she shryght' in so huge wise, As made hell-gates to shiver with the might. Wherewith a dart we saw, how it did light Right on her breast, and therewithal pale Death Enthrilling ? it, to reave her of her breath.

371 And by and by a dumb dead corpse we saw, Heavy and cold, the shape of Death aright, That daunts all earthly creatures to his law: Against whose force in vain it is to fight. Ne peers, ne princes, nor no mortal wight, Ne towns, ne realms, cities, ne strongest tower, But all perforce must yield unto his power.

His dart anon out of the corpse he took, And in his hand (a dreadful sight to see) With great triumph eftsoons the same he shook, That most of all my fears affrayed me. His body dight with nought but bones, perdie, The naked shape of man there saw I plain, All save the flesh, the sinew, and the vein. 385

Lastly stood War, in glittering arms y-clad, With visage grim, stern looks, and blackly hued; In his right hand a naked sword he had, That to the hilts was all with blood embrued: And in his left (that kings and kingdoms rued) Famine and fire he held, and therewithal 391 He razed towns, and threw down towers and all.

Cities he sacked, and realms, that whilom

flowered In honour, glory, and rule above the best, He overwhelmed, and all their fame devoured, 395 Consumed, destroyed, wasted, and never ceased, Till he their wealth, their name, and all oppressed. His face forhewed' with wounds, and by his side There hung his targe * with gashes deep and wide.

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I careless ? bare : worn with age • recovery 5 terrible

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