Minor Poems of Michael Drayton Part 2

My Worthie one to these nine Worthies addeth, And my faire Muse one Muse vnto the nine; And my good Angell, in my soule diuine, With one more order these nine orders gladdeth.

My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angell, then, Makes euery one of these three nines a ten.

Amour 9

Beauty sometime, in all her glory crowned, Pa.s.sing by that cleere fountain of thine eye, Her sun-s.h.i.+ne face there chaunsing to espy, Forgot herselfe, and thought she had been drowned.

And thus, whilst Beautie on her beauty gazed, Who then, yet liuing, deemd she had been dying, And yet in death some hope of life espying, At her owne rare perfections so amazed; Twixt ioy and griefe, yet with a smyling frowning, The glorious sun-beames of her eyes bright s.h.i.+ning, And shee, in her owne destiny diuining, Threw in herselfe, to saue herselfe by drowning; The Well of Nectar, pau'd with pearle and gold, Where shee remaines for all eyes to behold.

Amour 10

Oft taking pen in hand, with words to cast my woes, Beginning to account the sum of all my cares, I well perceiue my griefe innumerable growes, And still in reckonings rise more millions of dispayres.

And thus, deuiding of my fatall howres, The payments of my loue I read, and reading crosse, And in substracting set my sweets vnto my sowres; Th' average of my ioyes directs me to my losse.

And thus mine eyes, a debtor to thine eye, Who by extortion gaineth all theyr lookes, My hart hath payd such grieuous vsury, That all her wealth lyes in thy Beauties bookes; And all is thine which hath been due to mee, And I a Banckrupt, quite vndone by thee.

Amour 11

Thine eyes taught mee the Alphabet of loue, To con my Cros-rowe ere I learn'd to spell; For I was apt, a scholler like to proue, Gaue mee sweet lookes when as I learned well.

Vowes were my vowels, when I then begun At my first Lesson in thy sacred name: My consonants the next when I had done, Words consonant, and sounding to thy fame.

My liquids then were liquid christall teares, My cares my mutes, so mute to craue reliefe; My dolefull Dypthongs were my liues dispaires, Redoubling sighes the accents of my griefe: My loues Schoole-mistris now hath taught me so, That I can read a story of my woe.

Amour 12

Some Atheist or vile Infidell in loue, When I doe speake of thy diuinitie, May blaspheme thus, and say I flatter thee, And onely write my skill in verse to proue.

See myracles, ye vnbeleeuing! see A dumbe-born Muse made to expresse the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One by thy name, the other touching thee.

Blind were mine eyes, till they were seene of thine, And mine eares deafe by thy fame healed be; My vices cur'd by vertues sprung from thee, My hopes reuiu'd, which long in graue had lyne: All vncleane thoughts, foule spirits, cast out in mee By thy great power, and by strong fayth in thee.

Amour 13

Cleere _Ankor_, on whose siluer-sanded sh.o.r.e My soule-shrinde Saint, my faire _Idea_, lyes; O blessed Brooke! whose milk-white Swans adore The christall streame refined by her eyes: Where sweet Myrh-breathing _Zephyre_ in the spring Gently distils his Nectar-dropping showers; Where Nightingales in _Arden_ sit and sing Amongst those dainty dew-empearled flowers.

Say thus, fayre Brooke, when thou shall see thy Queene: Loe! heere thy Shepheard spent his wandring yeeres, And in these shades (deer Nimphe) he oft hath been, And heere to thee he sacrifiz'd his teares.

Fayre _Arden_, thou my _Tempe_ art alone, And thou, sweet _Ankor_, art my _Helicon_.

Amour 14

Looking into the gla.s.se of my youths miseries, I see the ugly face of my deformed cares, With withered browes, all wrinckled with dispaires, That for my mis-spent youth the tears fel from my eyes.

Then, in these teares, the mirror of these eyes, Thy fayrest youth and Beautie doe I see Imprinted in my teares by looking still on thee: Thus midst a thousand woes ten thousand joyes arise.

Yet in those joyes, the shadowes of my good, In this fayre limned ground as white as snow, Paynted the blackest Image of my woe, With murthering hands imbru'd in mine own blood: And in this Image his darke clowdy eyes, My life, my youth, my loue, I heere Anotamize.

Amour 15

Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror, Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee; And but appoint me for her Tormentor, Then for a Monarch will I honour thee.

My hart shall be the prison for my fayre; Ile fetter her in chaines of purest loue, My sighs shall stop the pa.s.sage of the ayre: This punishment the pittilesse may moue.

With teares out of the Channels of mine eyes She'st quench her thirst as duly as they fall: Kinde words vnkindest meate I can deuise, My sweet, my faire, my good, my best of all.

Ile binde her then with my torne-tressed haire, And racke her with a thousand holy wishes; Then, on a place prepared for her there, Ile execute her with a thousand kisses.

Thus will I crucifie, my cruell shee; Thus Ile plague her which hath so plagued mee.

Amour 16

Vertues _Idea_ in virginitie, By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought: The time is come deliuered she must be, Where first my loue into the world was brought.

Vnhappy borne, of all vnhappy day!

So luckles was my Babes nativity, _Saturne_ chiefe Lord of the Ascendant lay, The wandring Moone in earths triplicitie.

Now, or by chaunce or heauens hie prouidence, His Mother died, and by her Legacie (Fearing the stars presaging influence) Bequeath'd his wards.h.i.+p to my soueraignes eye; Where hunger-staruen, wanting lookes to liue, Still empty gorg'd, with cares consumption pynde, Salt luke-warm teares shee for his drink did giue, And euer-more with sighes he supt and dynde: And thus (poore Orphan) lying in distresse Cryes in his pangs, G.o.d helpe the motherlesse.

Amour 17

If euer wonder could report a wonder, Or tongue of wonder worth could tell a wonder thought, Or euer ioy expresse what perfect ioy hath taught, Then wonder, tongue, then ioy, might wel report a wonder.

Could all conceite conclude, which past conceit admireth, Or could mine eye but ayme her obiects past perfection, My words might imitate my deerest thoughts direction, And my soule then obtaine which so my soule desireth.

Were not Inuention stauld, treading Inuentions maze, Or my swift-winged Muse tyred by too hie flying; Did not perfection still on her perfection gaze, Whilst Loue (my Phoenix bird) in her owne flame is dying, Inuention and my Muse, perfection and her loue, Should teach the world to know the wonder that I proue.

Amour 18

Some, when in ryme they of their Loues doe tell, With flames and lightning their exordiums paynt: Some inuocate the G.o.ds, some spirits of h.e.l.l, And heauen, and earth doe with their woes acquaint.

_Elizia_ is too hie a seate for mee: I wyll not come in _Stixe_ or _Phlegiton_; The Muses nice, the Furies cruell be, I lyke not _Limbo_, nor blacke _Acheron_, Spightful _Erinnis_ frights mee with her lookes, My manhood dares not with foule _Ate_ mell: I quake to looke on _Hecats_ charming bookes, I styll feare bugbeares in _Apollos_ cell.

I pa.s.se not for _Minerua_ nor _Astraea_.

But euer call vpon diuine _Idea_.

Amour 19

If those ten Regions, registred by Fame, By theyr ten Sibils haue the world controld, Who prophecied of Christ or ere he came, And of his blessed birth before fore-told; That man-G.o.d now, of whom they did diuine, This earth of those sweet Prophets hath bereft, And since the world to iudgement doth declyne, Instead of ten, one Sibil to vs left.

Thys pure _Idea_, vertues right Idea, Shee of whom _Merlin_ long tyme did fore-tell, Excelling her of _Delphos_ or _c.u.maea_, Whose lyfe doth saue a thousand soules from h.e.l.l: That life (I meane) which doth Religion teach, And by example true repentance preach.

Amour 20

Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile, I find old Poets hylls and floods admire: One, he doth wonder monster-breeding _Nyle_, Another meruailes Sulphure _Aetnas_ fire.

Now broad-brymd _Indus_, then of _Pindus_ height, _Pelion_ and _Ossa_, frosty _Caucase_ old, The Delian _Cynthus_, then _Olympus_ weight, Slow _Arrer_, franticke _Gallus_, _Cydnus_ cold.

Some _Ganges_, _Ister_, and of _Tagus_ tell, Some whir-poole _Po_, and slyding _Hypasis_; Some old _Perna.s.sus_ where the Muses dwell, Some _Helycon_, and some faire _Simois_: A, fooles! thinke I, had you _Idea_ seene, Poore Brookes and Banks had no such wonders beene.

Amour 21

Letters and lynes, we see, are soone defaced, Mettles doe waste and fret with cankers rust; The Diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colours with foule staines disgraced.

Paper and yncke can paynt but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight, And if with teares, I find them all too light; And sighes and signes a silly hope affoords.

O, sweetest shadow! how thou seru'st my turne, Which still shalt be as long as there is Sunne, Nor whilst the world is neuer shall be done, Whilst Moone shall shyne by night, or any fire shall burne: That euery thing whence shadow doth proceede, May in his shadow my Loues story reade.

Amour 22

My hart, imprisoned in a hopeless Ile, Peopled with Armies of pale iealous eyes, The sh.o.r.es beset with thousand secret spyes, Must pa.s.se by ayre, or else dye in exile.