_Vpon Loues entring by the eares._
Oft did I heare our eyes the passage weare,
By which Loue entred to assaile our hearts:
Therefore I garded them, and void of feare,
Neglected the defence of other parts.
Loue knowing this, the vsuall way forsooke:
And seeking found a by-way by mine eare.
At which he entring, my heart prisoner tooke,
And vnto thee sweete Phylomel did beare.
Yet let my heart thy heart to pitty moue,
Whose paine is great, although small fault appeare.
First it lies bound in fettring chaines of loue,
Then each day it is rackt with hope and feare.
And with loues flames tis euermore consumed,
Only because to loue thee it presumed.
O why did Fame my heart to loue betray,
By telling my Deares vertue and perfection?
Why did my Traytor eares to it conuey
That Syren-song, cause of my hearts infection?
Had I been deafe, or Fame her gifts concealed,
Then had my heart beene free from hopelesse Loue:
Or were my state likewise by it reuealed,
Well might it Philomel to pitty moue.
Than should she know how loue doth make me languish,
Distracting me twixt hope and dreadfull feare:
Then should she know my care, my plaints and anguish,
All which for her deare selfe I meekely beare.
Yea I could quietly deaths paines abide,
So that she knew that for her sake I dide.
_Of his owne, and his Mistresse sicknesse at one time._
Sicknesse entending my loue to betray,
Before I should sight of my deere obtaine:
Did his pale colours in my face display,
Lest that my fauour might her fauours gaine.
Yet not content herewith, like meanes it wrought,
My Philomels bright beauty to deface:
And natures glory to disgrace it sought,
That my conceiuèd loue it might displace.
But my firme loue could this assault well beare,
Which vertue had, not beauty for his ground.
And yet bright beames of beauty did appeare,
Through sicknesse vaile, which made my loue abound;
If sicke (thought I) her beauty so excell,
How matchlesse would it be if she were well.
_Another of her sicknesse and recovery._
Pale Death himselfe did loue my Philomell,
When he her vertues and rare beauty saw,
Therefore he sicknesse sent: which should expell
His riuals life, and my deare to him draw.
But her bright beauty dazled so his eyes,
That his dart life did misse, though her it hit:
Yet not therewith content, new meanes he tries,
To bring her vnto Death, and make life flit.
But Nature soone perceiuing, that he meant
To spoyle her onely Ph[oe]nix, her chiefe pride,
Assembled all her force, and did preuent
The greatest mischiefe that could her betide.
So both our liues and loues, Nature defended:
For had she di'de, my loue and life had ended.
_Allusion to Theseus voyage to Crete, against the Minotaure._
My loue is sail'd against dislike to fight,
Which like vile monster, threatens his decay:
The ship is hope, which by desires great might,
Is swiftly borne towards the wishèd bay:
The company which with my loue doth fare,
(Though met in one) is a dissenting crew:
They are ioy, griefe, and neuer-sleeping care,
And doubt, which neere beleeues good newes for true:
Blacke feare the flag is, which my ship doth beare,
Which (Deere) take downe, if my loue victor be:
And let white comfort in his place appeare.
When loue victoriously returnes to me:
Least I from rock despaire come tumbling downe,
And in a sea of teares be for'st to drowne.
_Vpon her looking secretly out at a window as he passed by._
Once did my Philomel reflect on me,
Her Cristall pointed eyes as I past by;
Thinking not to be seene, yet would me see:
But soone my hungry eies their food did spy.
Alas, my deere, couldst them suppose, that face
Which needs not enuy Ph[oe]bus chiefest pride,
Could secret be, although in secret place,
And that transparent glasse such beames could hide?
But if I had been blinde, yet Loues hot flame,
Kindled in my poore heart by thy bright eye,
Did plainly shew when it so neere thee came,
By more the vsuall heate then cause was nie,
So though thou hidden wert, my heart and eye
Did turne to thee by mutuall Sympathy.
When time nor place would let me often view
Natures chiefe Mirror, and my sole delight;
Her liuely picture in my heart I drew,
That I might it behold both day and night;
But she, like Philips Sonne, scorning that I
Should portraiture, which wanted Apelles Art,
Commanded Loue (who nought dare her deny)
To burne the picture which was in my heart.
The more loue burn'd, the more her Picture shin'd:
The more it shin'd, the more my heart did burne:
So what to hurt her Picture was assign'd,
To my hearts ruine and decay did turne.
Loue could not burne the Spirit, it was divine,
And therefore fir'd my heart, the Saints poor shrine.
_To the Sunne of his Mistresse beauty eclipsed with frownes._
When as the Sunne eclipsèd is, some say
It thunder, lightning, raine, and wind portendeth;
And not vnlike but such things happen may,
Sith like effects my Sunne eclipsèd sendeth!
Witnesse my throat made hoarse with thundring cries,
And heart with loues hot flashing lightnings fired:
Witnesse the showers which still fall from mine eies,
And breast with sighes like stormy winds neare riued.
O shine then once againe sweet Sunne on me,
And with thy beames dissolue clouds of despaire,
Whereof these raging Meteors framèd be,
In my poore heart by absence of my faire.
So shalt thou prooue thy beames, thy heate, thy light,
To match the Sunne in glory, grace, and might.
_Vpon sending her a gold ring with this Posie._
Pure and Endlesse.
If you would know the love which I you beare,
Compare it to the Ring which your faire hand
Shall make more precious, when you shall it weare:
So my loues nature you shall vnderstand.
Is it of mettall pure? so you shall proue
My loue, which ne're disloyall thought did staine.
Hath it no end? so endlesse is my loue,
Vnlesse you it destroy with your disdaine.
Doth it the purer waxe the more tis tride?
So doth my loue: yet herein they dissent,
That whereas gold the more t'is purifide
By waxing lesse, doth shew some part is spent:
My loue doth waxe more pure by your more trying,
And yet encreaseth in the purifying.
_The hearts captivitie._
My cruell deere hauing captiu'de my heart,
And bound it fast in chaines of restlesse loue:
Requires it out of bondage to depart,
Yet is she sure from her it cannot moue.
Draw backe (said she) your helpeless loue from me,
Your worth requires a farre more worthy place:
Vnto your suite though I cannot agree,
Full many will it louingly embrace.
It may be so (my deere) but as the Sunne,
When it appeares doth make the starres to vanish!
So when your selfe into my thoughts do runne,
All others quite out of my heart you banish.
The beames of your perfections shine so bright,
That straight-way they dispell all other light.