« VorigeDoorgaan »
As thus : mine eyes due is their outward part,
And my heart's right, their inward love of heart.
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other :
When that mine eye is famish'd for a look,
Or heart, in love with sighs, himself doth smother :
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast,
And to the painted banquet bids my heart.
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part :
So either by the picture of my love,
Thyself away, are present still with me ;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee.
Or if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eyes' delight.
How careful was I, when I took my way
Each trifle under truest bars to thrust ;
That to my use it might unused stay
From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust?
But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are,
Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief ;
Thou best of dearest, and my only care,
Art left the prey of every vulgar thief.
Thee have I not lock'd up in any chest,
Save where thou art not ; tho'I feel thou art
Within the gentle closure of my breast,
From whence at pleasure thou may’st come and part
And even thence thou wilt be stol'n, I fear ;
For truth proves thievish for a prize so dear.
STOUT RESOLUTION. Against that time (if ever that time come) When I shall see thee frown on my defects ; When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum, Call'd to that audit by advis'd respects ; Against that time, when thou shalt strangely pass, And scarcely greet me with that sun, thine eye ; When love, converted from the thing it was, Shall reasons find of settled gravity ; Against that time do I insconce me here, 4 [4) Fortify myself. A sconce was a species of fortification. MALONE.
Within the knowledge of mine own desert ;
And this my hand against myself uprear,
To guard the lawful reasons on my part :
To leave poor me, thou hast the strength of laws,
Since why to love, I can allege no cause.
It was a lording's daughter,
The fairest one of three,
That liked of her master, as well as well might be ;
Till looking on an Englishman,
The fairest eye could see,
Her fancy fell a turning.
Long was the combat doubtful,
That love with love did fight ;
To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight;
To put in practice either,
Alas ! it was a spite
Unto the silly damsel. But one must be refused, More mickle was the pain ; That nothing could be used, to turn them both to gain : For of the two the trusty knight Was wounded with disdain,
Alas ! she could not help it. Thus art with arms contending, Was victor of the day ; Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away. Then, lullaby, the learned man Hath got the lady gay :
For now my song is ended.
On a day (alack the day)
Love, whose month was ever May,
Spy'd a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wapton air,
Thro' the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gain passage find,
That the lover (sick to death)
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air (quoth he) thy cheeks may blow;
23* VOL, IX
Air! would I might triumph so !
But (alas) my hand hath sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy throne !
Vow (alack) for youth unmeet,
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet ;
Thou, for whom e'en Jove would swear
Juno but an Æthiop were ;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love,
LOVE'S LABOUR LOST.
My flocks feed not, my ewes breed not,
My rams speed not ; all is amiss ;
Love is dying, faith's defying.
Heart's denying, causer of this.
All my merry jigs are quite forgot,
All my lady's love is lost (God wot ;)
Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love,
There a nay is plac’d, without remove.
One silly cross wrought all my loss ;
O! frowning fortune, cursed fickle dame!
For now I see inconstancy
More in women than in men remain.
In black mourn I, all fears scorn I,
Love hath forlorn me living in thrall ;
Heart is bleeding, all help needing ;
O! cruel speeding, fraughted with gall !
My shepherd's pipe can sound no dell,
My wether's bell rings doleful knell ;
My curtail dog, that wont t' have play'd,
Plays not at all, but seems afraid ;
With sighs so deep, procures to weep
In howling wise to see my doleful plight !
How sighs resound thro' heartless ground,
Like a thousand vanquish'd men in blcody fight.
Clear wells spring not, sweet birds sing not,
Green plants bring not forth their dye ;
Herds stand weeping, flocks all sleeping,
Nymphs black peeping fearfully.
All our pleasure knowu to us poor swains ;
All our merry meetings on the plains ;
All our evening sport from us has fled ;
All our love is lost, for love is dead.
Farewell, sweet love, thy like ne'er was,
For a sweet content, of all my woe the cause ;
Poor Coridon must live alone,
Other help for him, I see, that there is none,
When as thine eye hath chose the dame,
And stall'd the deer that thou should'st strike ;
Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy 5 (partly all might)
Take counsel of some wiser head,
Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk ;6
Lest she some subtle practice smell :
A cripple soon can find a halt.
But plainly say, thou lov'
And set her person forth to sale.
What tho' her frowning brows be bent,
Her cloudy looks will calm ere night ;
And then too late she will repent,
That thus dissembling her delight ;
And twice desire, ere it be day,
That which with scorn she put away.
What though she strive to try her strength,
And ban, and brawl, and say thee nay ;
Her feeble force will yield at length,
When craft hath taught her thus to say :
Had women been so strong as men,
In faith, you had not had it then.
And to her will frame all thy ways,
Spare not to spend, and chiefly there,
Where thy desert may merit praise,
By ringing in thy lady's ear:
The strongest castle, tower, and town,
The golden bullet beats it down.
Serve always with assured trust,
And in thy suit be humble true ;
Unless thy lady prove unjust,
Please never thou too choose anew.
15] Fancy here means love. MALONE.
(0) With studied or polished language. MALONE.
When time shall serve, be thou not slack
To proffer, tho' she put it back.
The wiles and guiles that women work,
Dissembled with an outward show ;
The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
The cock that treads them shall not know.
Have you not heard it said full oft,
A woman's nay doth stand for nought.
Think women still to strive with men,
To sin, and never for to saint :
There is no heaven (by holy then)
When time with age shall them attaint.
Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.
But soft, enough, too much I fear,
Lest that my mistress hear my song ;
She will not stick to round me on th' ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long.
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewraid.
Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,
And all my soul, and all my every part ;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is, as mine ;
No shape so true, no truth of such account ;
And for myself mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows mé myself indeed,
Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity ;
Mine own self-love, quite contrary I read,
Self, so self-loving, were iniquity :
'Tis thee (myself) that for myself I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme ;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents,
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.