THE LOVER COMPARETH HIS STATE
TO A SHIP IN PERILOUS STORM TOSSED ON THE SEA
My galley, charged with forgetfulness,
Thorough sharp seas, in winter nights, doth pass
'Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;
And every oar, a thought in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a case
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness;
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathed with error and eke with ignorance,
The stars be hid that led me to this pain;
Drowned is Reason, that should me comfort;
And I remain, despairing of the port.
THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS
NOT TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH AND TRUE INTENT
Forget not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit the service none tell can:
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in denays:
THAT, HAVING ONCE RECOVERED HIS FREEDOM, HE HAD AGAIN BECOME THRALL TO LOVE
Ah, my heart, what aileth thee
To set so light my liberty,
Making me bond when I was free?
Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?
When thou were rid from all distress,
Void of all pain and pensiveness,
To choose again a new mistress,
Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?
When thou were well, thou could not hold;
To turn again, that were too bold;
Thus to renew my sorrows old,
Ah, my heart, what aileth thee?
HE RULETH NOT THOUGH HE REIGN OVER REALMS
THAT IS SUBJECT TO HIS OWN LUSTS
If thou wilt mighty be, flee from the rage
Of cruel will, and see thou keep thee free
From the foul yoke of sensual bondage;
For though thine empire stretch to Indian sea,
And for thy fear trembleth the farthest Thulè,
If thy desire have over thee the power,
Subject then art thou, and no governor.
If to be noble and high thy mind be movèd,
Consider well thy ground and thy beginning;
For He That hath each star in heaven fixèd,
And gives the moon her horns and her eclipsing,
Alike hath made thee noble in His working;
So that wretched no way thou may be,
Except foul lust and vice do conquer thee.
All were it so thou had a flood of gold
Unto thy thirst, yet should it not suffice;
And though with Indian stones, a thousandfold
More precious than can thyself devise,
Ycharged were thy back; thy covetise
And busy biting yet should never let
Thy wretched life, ne do thy death profet.
HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY
DESCRIPTION OF SPRING
WHEREIN EACH THING RENEWS, SAVE ONLY THE LOVER
The soote season that bud and bloom forth brings
With green hath clad the hill and cke the vale;
The nightingale, with feathers new she sings;
The turtle to her make hath told her tale.
Summer is come, for every spray now springs;
The hart hath hung his old head on the pale;
The buck, in brake his winter coat he flings;
The fishes flete with new-repairèd scale;
The adder, all her slough away she slings;
The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale;
The busy bee, her honey now she mings.
Winter is worn, that was the flowers' bale.
And thus I see among these pleasant things
Each care decays; and yet my sorrow springs !
THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE
Martial, the things for to attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;
The equal friend; no grudge, nor strife;
No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance;
The mean diet, no delicate fare;
Wisdom joined with simplicity;
The night dischargèd of all care,
Where wine may bear no sovereignty;
The chaste wife, wise, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night;
Contented with thine own estate,
Neither wish Death, nor fear his might.
TRANSLATION OF THE AENEID
Whiles Laocon, that chosen was by lot
Neptunus' priest, did sacrifice a bull
Before the holy altar, suddenly
From Tenedon, behold, in circles great,
By the calm seas, come fleting adders twain,
Which plied towards the shore (I loathe to tell),
With reared breast lift up above the seas;
Whose bloody crests aloft the waves were seen;
The hinder part swam hidden in the flood;
Their grisly backs were linkèd manifold.
With sound of broken waves they gate the strand,
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