The Shorter Poems

  Ne onely they that dwell in lowly dust,

  The sonnes of darknes and of ignoraunce;

  But they, whom thou great Ioue by doome vniust

  70

  Didst to the type of honour earst aduaunce;

  They now puft vp with sdeignfull insolence,

  Despise the brood of blessed Sapience.

  The sectaries of my celestiall skill,

  That wont to be the worlds chiefe ornament,

  75

  And learned Impes that wont to shoote vp still,

  And grow to hight of kingdomes gouernment

  They vnderkeep, and with their spredding armes

  Doo beat their buds, that perish through their harmes.

  It most behoues the honorable race

  80

  Of mightie Peeres, true wisedome to sustaine,

  And with their noble countenaunce to grace

  The learned forheads, without gifts or gaine:

  Or rather learnd themselues behoues to bee;

  That is the girlond of Nobilitie.

  85

  But (ah) all otherwise they doo esteeme

  Of th’heauenly gift of wisdomes influence,

  And to be learned it a base thing deeme;

  Base minded they that want intelligence:

  For God himselfe for wisedome most is praised,

  90

  And men to God thereby are nighest raised.

  But they doo onely striue themselues to raise

  Through pompous pride, and foolish vanitie;

  In th’eyes of people they put all their praise,

  And onely boast of Armes and Auncestrie:

  95

  But vertuous deeds, which did those Armes first giue

  To their Grandsyres, they care not to atchiue.

  So I, that doo all noble feates professe

  To register, and sound in trump of gold;

  Through their bad dooings, or base slothfulnesse,

  100

  Finde nothing worthie to be writ, or told:

  For better farre it were to hide their names,

  Than telling them to blazon out their blames.

  So shall succeeding ages haue no light

  Of things forepast, nor moniments of time,

  105

  And all that in this world is worthie hight

  Shall die in darknesse, and lie hid in slime:

  Therefore I mourne with deep harts sorrowing,

  Because I nothing noble haue to sing.

  With that she raynd such store of streaming teares,

  110

  That could haue made a stonie heart to weep,

  And all her Sisters rent their golden heares,

  And their faire faces with salt humour steep.

  So ended shee: and then the next anew,

  Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.

  Melpomene.

  115

  O who shall powre into my swollen eyes

  A sea of teares that neuer may be dryde,

  A brasen voice that may with shrilling cryes

  Pierce the dull heauens and fill the ayer wide,

  And yron sides that sighing may endure,

  120

  To waile the wretchednes of world impure?

  Ah wretched world the den of wickednesse,

  Deformd with filth and fowle iniquitie;

  Ah wretched world the house of heauinesse,

  Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie;

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  Ah wretched world, and all that is therein

  The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaues of sin.

  Most miserable creature vnder sky

  Man without vnderstanding doth appeare;

  For all this worlds affliction he thereby,

  130

  And Fortunes freakes is wisely taught to beare:

  Of wretched life the onely ioy shee is,

  And th’only comfort in calamities.

  She armes the brest with constant patience,

  Against the bitter throwes of dolours darts,

  135

  She solaceth with rules of Sapience

  The gentle mind, in midst of worldlie smarts:

  When he is sad, shee seeks to make him merie,

  And doth refresh his sprights when they be werie.

  But he that is of reasons skill bereft,

  140

  And wants the staffe of wisedome him to stay,

  Is like a ship in midst of tempest left

  Withouten helme or Pilot her to sway,

  Full sad and dreadfull is that ships euent:

  So is the man that wants intendiment.

  145

  Whie then doo foolish men so much despize

  The precious store of this celestiall riches?

  Why doo they banish vs, that patronize

  The name of learning? Most vnhappie wretches,

  The which lie drowned in deep wretchednes,

  150

  Yet doo not see their owne vnhappines.

  My part it is and my professed skill

  The Stage with Tragick buskin to adorne,

  And fill the Scene with plaint and outcries shrill

  Of wretched persons, to misfortune borne:

  155

  But none more tragick matter I can finde

  Than this, of men depriu’d of sense and minde.

  For all mans life me seemes a Tragedy,

  Full of sad sights and sore Catastrophees;

  First comming to the world with weeping eye,

  160

  Where all his dayes like dolorous Trophees,

  Are heapt with spoyles of fortune and of feare,

  And he at last laid forth on balefull beare.

  So all with rufull spectacles is fild

  Fit for Megera or Persephone;

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  But I that in true Tragedies am skild,

  The flowre of wit, finde nought to busie me:

  Therefore I mourne, and pitifully mone,

  Because that mourning matter I haue none.

  Then gan she wofully to waile, and wring

  170

  Her wretched hands in lamentable wise;

  And all her Sisters thereto answering,

  Threw forth lowd shrieks and drerie dolefull cries.

  So rested she: and then the next in rew,

  Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.

  Thalia.

  175

  Where be the sweete delights of learnings treasure,

  That wont with Comick sock to beautefie

  The painted Theaters, and fill with pleasure

  The listners eyes, and eares with melodie;

  In which I late was wont to raine as Queene,

  180

  And maske in mirth with Graces well beseene?

  O all is gone, and all that goodly glee,

  Which wont to be the glorie of gay wits,

  Is layd abed, and no where now to see;

  And in her roome vnseemly Sorrow sits,

  185

  With hollow browes and greisly countenaunce,

  Marring my ioyous gentle dalliaunce.

  And him beside sits vgly Barbarisme,

  And brutish Ignorance, ycrept of late

  Out of dredd darknes of the deep Abysme,

  190

  Where being bredd, he light and heauen does hate:

  They in the mindes of men now tyrannize,

  And the faire Scene with rudenes foule disguize.

  All places they with follie haue possest,

  And with vaine toyes the vulgare entertaine;

  195

  But me haue banished, with all the rest

  That whilome wont to wait vpon my traine,

  Fine Counterfesaunce and vnhurtfull Sport,

  Delight and Laughter deckt in seemly sort.

  All these, and all that els the Comick Stage

  200

  With seasoned wit and goodly pleasance graced;

  By which
mans life in his likest image

  Was limned forth, are wholly now defaced;

  And those sweete wits which wont the like to frame,

  Are now despizd, and made a laughing game.

  205

  And he the man, whom Nature selfe had made

  To mock her selfe, and Truth to imitate,

  With kindly counter vnder Mimick shade,

  Our pleasant Willy, ah is dead of late:

  With whom all ioy and iolly meriment

  210

  Is also deaded, and in dolour drent.

  In stead thereof scoffing Scurrilitie,

  And scornfull Follie with Contempt is crept,

  Rolling in rymes of shameles ribaudrie

  Without regard, or due Decorum kept,

  215

  Each idle wit at will presumes to make,

  And doth the Learneds taske vpon him take.

  But that same gentle Spirit, from whose pen

  Large streames of honnie and sweete Nectar flowe,

  Scorning the boldnes of such base-borne men,

  220

  Which dare their follies forth so rashlie throwe;

  Doth rather choose to sit in idle Cell,

  Than so himselfe to mockerie to sell.

  So am I made the seruant of the manie,

  And laughing stocke of all that list to scorne,

  225

  Not honored nor cared for of anie;

  But loath’d of losels as a thing forlorne:

  Therefore I mourne and sorrow with the rest,

  Vntill my cause of sorrow be redrest.

  Therewith she lowdly did lament and shrike,

  230

  Pouring forth streames of teares abundantly,

  And all her Sisters with compassion like,

  The breaches of her singulfs did supply.

  So rested shee: and then the next in rew

  Began her grieuous plaint, as doth ensew.

  Euterpe.

  235

  Like as the dearling of the Summers pryde,

  Faire Philomele, when winters stormie wrath

  The goodly fields, that earst so gay were dyde

  In colours diuers, quite despoyled hath,

  All comfortlesse doth hide her chearlesse head

  240

  During the time of that her widowhead:

  So we, that earst were wont in sweet accord

  All places with our pleasant notes to fill,

  Whilest fauourable times did vs afford

  Free libertie to chaunt our charmes at will:

  245

  All comfortlesse vpon the bared bow,

  Like wofull Culuers doo sit wayling now.

  For far more bitter storme than winters stowre

  The beautie of the world hath lately wasted,

  And those fresh buds, which wont so faire to flowre,

  250

  Hath marred quite, and all their blossoms blasted:

  And those yong plants, which wont with fruit t’abound,

  Now without fruite or leaues are to be found.

  A stonie coldnesse hath benumbd the sence

  And liuelie spirits of each liuing wight,

  255

  And dimd with darknesse their intelligence,

  Darknesse more than Cymerians daylie night:

  And monstrous error flying in the ayre,

  Hath mard the face of all that semed fayre.

  Image of hellish horrour Ignorance,

  260

  Borne in the bosome of the black Abysse,

  And fed with furies milke, for sustenaunce

  Of his weake infancie, begot amisse

  By yawning Sloth on his owne mother Night;

  So hee his sonnes both Syre and brother hight.

  265

  He armd with blindnesse and with boldnes stout,

  (For blind is bold) hath our fayre light defaced;

  And gathering vnto him a ragged rout

  Of Faunes and Satyres, hath our dwellings raced

  And our chast bowers, in which all vertue rained,

  270

  With brutishnesse and beastlie filth hath stained.

  The sacred springs of horsefoot Helicon,

  So oft bedeawed with our learned layes,

  And speaking streames of pure Castalion,

  The famous witnesse of our wonted praise,

  275

  They trampled haue with their fowle footings trade,

  And like to troubled puddles haue them made.

  Our pleasant groues, which planted were with paines,

  That with our musick wont so oft to ring,

  And arbors sweet, in which the Shepheards swaines

  280

  Were wont so oft their Pastoralls to sing,

  They haue cut downe and all their pleasaunce mard,

  That now no pastorall is to bee hard.

  In stead of them fowle Goblins and Shriekowles,

  With fearfull howling do all places fill;

  285

  And feeble Eccho now laments and howles,

  The dreadfull accents of their outcries shrill.

  So all is turned into wildernesse,

  Whilest ignorance the Muses doth oppresse.

  And I whose ioy was earst with Spirit full

  290

  To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft,

  My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull,

  Doo mone my miserie in silence soft.

  Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly,

  Till please the heauens affoord me remedy.

  295

  Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe

  And pitious lamentation did make,

  And all her sisters seeing her doo soe,

  With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake.

  So rested shee: and then the next in rew,

  300

  Began her grieuous plaint as doth ensew.

  Terpsichore.

  Who so hath in the lap of soft delight

  Beene long time luld, and fed with pleasures sweet,

  Feareles through his own fault or Fortunes spight,

  To tumble into sorrow and regreet,

  305

  Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie,

  Findes greater burthen of his miserie.

  So wee that earst in ioyance did abound

  And in the bosome of all blis did sit,

  Like virgin Queenes with laurell garlands cround,

  310

  For vertues meed and ornament of wit;

  Sith ignorance our kingdome did confound,

  Bee now become most wretched wightes on ground:

  And in our royall thrones which lately stood

  In th’hearts of men to rule them carefully,

  315

  He now hath placed his accursed brood,

  By him begotten of fowle infamy;

  Blind Error, scornefull Follie, and base Spight,

  Who hold by wrong, that wee should haue by right.

  They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing,

  320

  And make them merrie with their fooleries,

  They cherelie chaunt and rymes at randon fling,