The Shorter Poems Read Online

Being one day at my window all alone,

So many strange things hapned me to see,

As much it grieueth me to thinke thereon.

At my right hande, a Hinde appearde to me,

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So faire as mought the greatest God delite:

Two egre Dogs dyd hir pursue in chace,

Of whiche the one was black, the other white.

With deadly force so in their cruell race

They pinchte the haunches of this gentle beast,

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That at the last, and in shorte time, I spied,

Vnder a rocke, where she (alas) opprest,

Fell to the grounde, and there vntimely dide.

Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie,

Oft makes me waile so harde a destinie.

After at Sea a tall Ship dyd appere,

Made all of Heben and white Iuorie,

The sailes of Golde, of Silke the tackle were:

Milde was the winde, calme seemed the sea to be:

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The Skie eche where did shew full bright and faire.

With riche treasures this gay ship fraighted was.

But sodaine storme did so turmoyle the aire,

And tombled vp the sea, that she, alas,

Strake on a rocke that vnder water lay.

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O great misfortune, O great griefe, I say,

Thus in one moment to see lost and drownde

So great riches, as lyke can not be founde.

Then heauenly branches did I see arise,

Out of a fresh and lusty Laurell tree

Amidde the yong grene wood. Of Paradise

Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see,

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Suche store of birdes therein yshrouded were,

Chaunting in shade their sundry melodie.

My sprites were rauisht with these pleasures there.

While on this Laurell fixed was mine eye,

The Skie gan euery where to ouercast,

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And darkned was the welkin all aboute,

When sodaine flash of heauens fire outbrast,

And rent this royall tree quite by the roote.

Which makes me much and euer to complaine,

For no such shadow shal be had againe.

Within this wood, out of the rocke did rise

A Spring of water mildely romblyng downe,

Whereto approched not in any wise

The homely Shepherde, nor the ruder cloune,

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But many Muses, and the Nymphes withall,

That sweetely in accorde did tune their voice

Vnto the gentle sounding of the waters fall.

The sight wherof dyd make my heart reioyce.

But while I toke herein my chiefe delight,

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I sawe (alas) the gaping earth deuoure

The Spring, the place, and all cleane out of sight.

Whiche yet agreues my heart euen to this houre.

I saw a Phoenix in the wood alone,

With purple wings and crest of golden hew,

Straunge birde he was, wherby I thought anone,

That of some heauenly wight I had the vew:

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Vntill he came vnto the broken tree

And to the spring that late deuoured was.

What say I more? Eche thing at length we see

Doth passe away: the Phœnix there, alas,

Spying the tree destroyde, the water dride,

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Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine,

And so forthwith in great despite he dide.

For pitie and loue my heart yet burnes in paine.

At last so faire a Ladie did I spie,

That in thinking on hir I burne and quake,

On herbes and floures she walked pensiuely.

Milde, but yet loue she proudely did forsake.

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White seemed hir robes, yet wouen so they were,

As snowe and golde together had bene wrought.

Aboue the waste a darke cloude shrouded hir,

A stinging Serpent by the heele hir caught,

Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure:

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And well assurde she mounted vp to ioy.

Alas in earth so nothing doth endure

But bitter griefe that dothe our hearts anoy.

My Song thus now in thy Conclusions,

Say boldly that these same six visions

Do yelde vnto thy lorde a sweete request,

Ere it be long within the earth to rest.

It was the time when rest the gift of Gods

Sweetely sliding into the eyes of men,

Doth drowne in the forgetfulnesse of slepe,

The carefull trauailes of the painefull day:

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Then did a ghost appeare before mine eyes

On that great riuers banke that runnes by Rome,

And calling me then by my propre name,

He bade me vpwarde vnto heauen looke.

He cride to me, and loe (quod he) beholde,

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What vnder this great Temple is containde,

Loe all is nought but flying vanitie.

So I knowing the worldes vnstedfastnesse,

Sith onely God surmountes the force of tyme,

In God alone do stay my confidence.

On hill, a frame an hundred cubites hie

I sawe, an hundred pillers eke about,

All of fine Diamant decking the front,

And fashiond were they all in Dorike wise.

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Of bricke, ne yet of marble was the wall,

But shining Christall, which from top to base

Out of deepe vaute threw forth a thousand rayes

Vpon an hundred steps of purest golde.

Golde was the parget: and the sielyng eke

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Did shine all scaly with fine golden plates.

The floore was Iaspis, and of Emeraude.

O worldes vainenesse. A sodein earthquake loe,

Shaking the hill euen from the bottome deepe,

Threwe downe this building to the lowest stone.

Then did appeare to me a sharped spire

Of diamant, ten feete eche way in square,

Iustly proportionde vp vnto his height,

So hie as mought an Archer reache with sight.

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Vpon the top therof was set a pot

Made of the mettall that we honour most.

And in this golden vessell couched were

The ashes of a mightie Emperour.

Vpon foure corners of the base there lay

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To beare the frame, foure great Lions of golde.

A worthie tombe for such a worthie corps.

Alas, nought in this worlde but griefe endures.

A sodaine tempest from the heauen, I saw,

With flushe stroke downe this noble monument.

I saw raisde vp on pillers of Iuorie,

Whereof the bases were of richest golde,

The chapters Alabaster, Christall frises,

The double front of a triumphall arke.

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On eche side portraide was a victorie.

With golden wings in habite of a Nymph.

And set on hie vpon triumphing chaire,

The auncient glorie of the Romane lordes.

The worke did shewe it selfe not wrought by man,

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But rather made by his owne skilfull hande

That forgeth thunder dartes for Ioue his sire.

Let me no more see faire thing vnder heauen,

Sith I haue seene so faire a thing as this,

With sodaine falling broken all to dust.

Then I behelde the faire Dodonian tree,

Vpon seuen hilles throw forth his gladsome shade,

And Conquerers bedecked with his leaues

Along the bankes of the Italian streame.

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There many auncient Trophees were erect,

Many a spoile, and many goodly signes,

To shewe the greatnesse of the stately race,

That erst descended from the Troian bloud.

Rauisht I was to see so rare a thing,

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When barbarous villaines in disordred heape,

Outraged the honour of these noble bowes.

I hearde the tronke to grone vnder the wedge.

And since I saw the roote in hie disdaine

Sende forth againe a twinne of forked trees.

I saw the birde that dares beholde the Sunne,

With feeble flight venture to mount to heauen,

By more and more she gan to trust hir wings,

Still folowing th’example of hir damme:

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I saw hir rise, and with a larger flight

Surmount the toppes euen of the hiest hilles,

And pierce the cloudes, and with hir wings to reache

The place where is the temple of the Gods,

There was she lost, and sodenly I saw

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Where tombling through the aire in lompe of fire,

All flaming downe she fell vpon the plaine.

I saw hir bodie turned all to dust,

And saw the foule that shunnes the cherefull light

Out of hir ashes as a worme arise.

Then all astonned with this nightly ghost,

I saw an hideous body big and strong,

Long was his beard, and side did hang his hair,

A grisly forehed and Saturnelike face.

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Leaning against the belly of a pot

He shed a water, whose outgushing streame

Ran flowing all along the creekie shoare

Where once the Troyan Duke with Turnus fought.

And at his feete a bitch Wolfe did giue sucke

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To two yong babes. In his right hand he bare

The tree of peace, in left the conquering Palme,

His head was garnisht with the Laurel bow.

Then sodenly the Palme and Oliue fell,

And faire greene Laurel witherd vp and dide.

Hard by a riuers side, a wailing Nimphe,

Folding hir armes with thousand sighs to heauen

Did tune hir plaint to falling riuers sound,

Renting hir faire visage and golden haire,

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Where is (quod she) this whilome honored face?

Where is thy glory and the auncient praise,

Where all worldes hap was reposed,

When erst of Gods and man I worshipt was?

Alas, suffisde it not that ciuile bate

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Made me the spoile and bootie of the world,

But this new Hydra mete to be assailde

Euen by an hundred such as Hercules,

With seuen springing heds of monstrous crimes,

So many Neroes and Caligulaes

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Must still bring forth to rule this croked shore.

Vpon a hill I saw a kindled flame,

Mounting like waues with triple point to heauen,

Which of incense of precious Ceder tree

With Balmelike odor did perfume the aire.

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A bird all white, well fetherd on hir winges

Hereout did flie vp to the throne of Gods,

And singing with most plesant melodie

She climbed vp to heauen in the smoke.

Of this faire fire the faire dispersed rayes

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Threw forth abrode a thousand shining leames,

When sodain dropping of a golden shoure

Gan quench the glystering flame. O greuous chaunge!

That which erstwhile so pleasaunt scent did yelde,

Of Sulphure now did breathe corrupted smel.

I saw a fresh spring rise out of a rocke,

Clere as Christall against the Sunny beames,

The bottome yellow like the shining land,

That golden Pactol driues vpon the plaine.

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It seemed that arte and nature striued to ioyne

There in one place all pleasures of the eye.

There was to heare a noise alluring slepe

Of many accordes more swete than Mermaids song,

The seates and benches shone as Iuorie,

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An hundred Nymphes sate side by side about,

When from nie hilles a naked rout of Faunes

With hideous cry assembled on the place,

Which with their feete vncleane the water fouled,

Threw down the seats, and droue the Nimphs to flight.

At length, euen at the time when Morpheus

Most truely doth appeare vnto our eyes,

Wearie to see th’inconstance of the heauens:

I saw the great Typhæus sister come,

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Hir head full brauely with a morian armed,

In maiestie she seemde to matche the Gods.

And on the shore, harde by a violent streame,

She raisde a Trophee ouer all the worlde.

An hundred vanquisht kings gronde at hir feete,

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Their armes in shamefull wise bounde at their backes.

While I was with so dreadfull sight afrayde,

I saw the heauens warre against hir tho,

And seing hir striken fall with clap of thunder,

With so great noyse I start in sodaine wonder.

I saw an vgly beast come from the sea,

That seuen heads, ten crounes, ten hornes did beare,

Hauing theron the vile blaspheming name.

The cruell Leopard she resembled much:

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Feete of a beare, a Lions throte she had.

The mightie Dragon gaue to hir his power.

One of hir heads yet there I did espie,

Still freshly bleeding of a grieuous wounde.

One cride aloude. What one is like (quod he)

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This honoured Dragon, or may him withstande?

And then came from the sea a sauage beast,

With Dragons speche, and shewde his force by fire,

With wondrous signes to make all wights adore

The beast, in setting of hir image vp.

I saw a Woman sitting on a beast

Before mine eyes, of Orenge colour hew:

Horrour and dreadfull name of blasphemie

Filde hir with pride. And seuen heads I saw,

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Ten hornes also the stately beast did beare.

She seemde with glorie of the scarlet faire,

And with fine perle and golde puft vp in heart.

The wine of hooredome in a cup she bare.

The name of Mysterie writ in hir face.

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The bloud of Martyrs dere were hir delite.

Most fierce and fell this woman seemde to me.

An Angell then descending downe from Heauen,

With thondring voice cride out aloude, and sayd,

Now for a truth great Babylon is fallen.

Then might I see vpon a white horse set

The faithfull man with flaming countenaunce,

His head did shine with crounes set therupon.

The worde of God made him a noble name.

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His precious robe I saw embrued with bloud.

Then saw I from the heauen on horses white,

A puissant armie come the selfe same way.

Then cried a shining Angell as me thought,

That birdes from aire descending downe on earth

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Should warre vpon the kings, and eate their flesh.

Then did I see the beast and Kings also

Ioinyng their force to slea the faithfull man.

But this fierce hatefull beast and all hir traine,

Is pitilesse throwne downe in pit of fire.

I saw new Earth, new Heauen, sayde Saint Iohn.

And loe, the sea (quod he) is now no more.

The holy Citie of the Lorde, from hye

Descendeth garnisht as a loued spouse.

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A voice then sayde, beholde the bright abode

Of God and men. For he shall be their God,

And all their teares he shall wipe cleane away.

Hir brightnesse greater was than can be founde,

Square was this Citie, and twelue gates it had.

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Eche gate was of an orient perfect pearle,

The houses golde, the pauement precious stone.

A liuely streame, more cleere than Christall is,

Ranne through the mid, sprong from triumphant seat.

There growes lifes fruite vnto the Churches good.

Goe little booke: thy selfe present,

As child whose parent is vnkent:

To him that is the president

Of noblesse and of cheualree,

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And if that Enuie barke at thee,

As sure it will, for succoure flee

Vnder the shadow of his wing,

And asked, who thee forth did bring,

A shepheards swaine saye did thee sing,

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All as his straying flocke he fedde:

And when his honor has thee redde,

Craue pardon for my hardyhedde.

But if that any aske thy name,

Say thou wert base begot with blame:

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For thy thereof thou takest shame.

And when thou art past ieopardee,

Come tell me, what was sayd of mee:

And I will send more after thee.

Immeritô.

VNCOVTHE VNKISTE, Sayde the olde famous Poete

Chaucer: whom for his excellencie and wonderfull skil in

making, his scholler Lidgate, a worthy scholler of so excellent

a maister, calleth the Loadestarre of our Language: and whom

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our Colin clout in his Æglogue called Tityrus the God of

shepheards, comparing hym to the worthines of the Roman

Tityrus Virgile. Which prouerbe, myne owne good friend

Ma. Haruey, as in that good old Poete it serued well Pandares

purpose, for the bolstering of his baudy brocage, so very well

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taketh place in this our new Poete, who for that he is vncouthe

(as said Chaucer) is vnkist, and vnknown to most men, is

regarded but of few. But I dout not, so soone as his name

shall come into the knowledg of men, and his worthines be

sounded in the tromp of fame, but that he shall be not onely

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kiste, but also beloued of all, embraced of the most, and

wondred at of the best. No lesse I thinke, deserueth his

wittinesse in deuising, his pithinesse in vttering, his com

plaints of loue so louely, his discourses of pleasure so pleas-

antly, his pastorall rudenesse, his morall wisenesse, his dewe

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obseruing of Decorum euerye where, in personages, in seasons,

in matter, in speach, and generally in al seemely simplycitie

of handeling his matter, and framing his words: the which of

many thinges which in him be straunge, I know will seeme

the straungest, the words them selues being so auncient, the

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knitting of them so short and intricate, and the whole Periode

and compasse of speache so delightsome for the roundnesse,

and so graue for the straungenesse. And firste of the wordes

to speake, I graunt they be something hard, and of most men

vnused, yet both English, and also vsed of most excellent

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Authors and most famous Poetes. In whom whenas this our

Poet hath bene much traueiled and throughly redd, how could

it be, (as that worthy Oratour sayde) but that walking in the

sonne although for other cause he walked, yet needes he

mought be sunburnt; and hauing the sound of those auncient

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Poetes still ringing in his eares, he mought needes in singing

hit out some of theyr tunes.