initial commit of ebook 18841HEADmain

1 files changed, 3512 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/18841.txt b/18841.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8528299
--- /dev/null
+++ b/18841.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3512 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles, by
+Thomas Lodge and Giles Fletcher
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles
+       Phillis - Licia
+
+Author: Thomas Lodge and Giles Fletcher
+
+Editor: Martha Foote Crow
+
+Release Date: July 16, 2006 [EBook #18841]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIZABETHAN SONNET CYCLES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ELIZABETHAN SONNET-CYCLES
+
+EDITED BY
+
+MARTHA FOOTE CROW
+
+
+PHILLIS
+
+BY THOMAS LODGE
+
+LICIA
+
+BY GILES FLETCHER
+
+
+KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUeBNER AND CO.
+PATERNOSTER HOUSE LONDON W.C.
+
+1896
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+The last decade of the sixteenth century was marked by an outburst of
+sonneteering. To devotees of the sonnet, who find in that poetic form
+the moat perfect vehicle that has ever been devised for the expression
+of a single importunate emotion, it will not seem strange that at the
+threshold of a literary period whose characteristic note is the most
+intense personality, the instinct of poets should have directed them to
+the form most perfectly fitted for the expression of this inner motive.
+
+The sonnet, a distinguished guest from Italy, was ushered to by those
+two "courtly makers," Wyatt and Surrey, in the days of Henry VIII. But
+when, forty years later, the foreigner was to be acclimatised in
+England, her robe had to be altered to suit an English fashion. Thus
+the sonnet, which had been an octave of enclosed or alternate rhymes,
+followed by a sestette of interlaced tercets, was now changed to a
+series of three quatrains with differing sets of alternate rhymes in
+each, at the close of which the insidious couplet succeeded in
+establishing itself. But these changes were not made without a great
+deal of experiment; and during the tentative period the name "sonnet"
+was given, to a wide variety of forms, in the moulding of which but one
+rule seemed to be uniformly obeyed--that the poem should be the
+expression of a single, simple emotion. This law cut the poem, to a
+relative shortness and defined its dignity and clearness. Beyond this
+almost every combination of rhymes might be found, verses were
+occasionally lengthened or shortened, and the number of lines in the
+poem, though generally fourteen, showed considerable variation.
+
+The sonnet-sequence was also a suggestion from Italy, a literary fashion
+introduced by Sir Philip Sidney, in his _Astrophel and Stella_, written
+soon after 1580, but not published till 1591. In a sonnet-cycle Sidney
+recorded his love and sorrow, and Spenser took up the strain with his
+story of love and joy. Grouped about these, and following in their wake,
+a number of poets, before the decade was over, turned this Elizabethan
+"toy" to their purpose in their various self-revealings, producing a
+group of sonnet-cycles more or less Italianate in form or thought, more
+or less experimental, more or less poetical, more or less the expression
+of a real passion. For while the form of the sonnet was modified by
+metrical traditions and habits, the content also was strongly
+influenced, not to say restricted, by certain conventions of thought
+considered at the time appropriate to the poetic attitude. The passion
+for classic colour in the poetic world, which had inspired and
+disciplined English genius in the sixties and seventies, was rather
+nourished than repressed when in the eighties Spenser's _Shepherd's
+Calendar_ and Sidney's _Arcadia_ made the pastoral imagery a necessity.
+Cupid and Diana were made very much at home in the golden world of the
+renaissance Arcadia, and the sonneteer singing the praises of his
+mistress's eyebrow was not far removed from the lovelorn shepherd of the
+plains.
+
+It may reasonably be expected that in any sonnet-cycle there will be
+found many sonnets in praise of the loved one's beauty, many lamenting
+her hardness of heart; all the wonders of heaven and earth will be
+catalogued to find comparisons for her loveliness; the river by which
+she dwells will be more pleasant than all other rivers in the world, a
+list of them being appended in proof; the thoughts of night-time, when
+the lover bemoans himself and his rejected state, or dreams of happy
+love, will be dwelt upon; oblivious sleep and the wan-faced moon will be
+invoked, and death will be called upon for respite. Love and the praises
+of the loved one was the theme. On this old but ever new refrain the
+sonneteer devised his descant, trilling joyously on oaten pipe in praise
+of Delia or Phyllis, Coelia, Caelica, Aurora, or Castara.
+
+But this melody and descant were not, in some ears at least, without
+monotony. For after Daniel's _Delia_, Constable's _Diana_, Lodge's
+_Phillis_, Drayton's _Idea_, Fletcher's _Licia_, Brooke's _Caelica_,
+Percy's _Coelia_, N.L.'s _Zepheria_, and J.C.'s _Alcilia_, and perhaps
+a few other sonnet-cycles had been written, Chapman in 1595 made his
+_Coronet for his Mistress Philosophy_, the opening sonnet of which
+reveals his critical attitude:
+
+    "Muses that sing Love's sensual empery,
+    And lovers kindling your enraged fires
+    At Cupid's bonfires burning in the eye,
+    Blown with the empty breath of vain desires,
+    You that prefer the painted cabinet
+    Before the wealthy jewels it doth store ye,
+    That all your joys in dying figures set,
+    And stain the living substance of your glory,
+    Abjure those joys, abhor their memory,
+    And let my love the honoured subject be
+    Of love, and honour's complete history;
+    Your eyes were never yet let in to see
+    The majesty and riches of the mind,
+    But dwell in darkness; for your god is blind."
+
+It must be confessed that the "painted cabinet" of the lady's beauty
+absorbs more attention than the "majesty and riches of the mind," but
+the glints of a loftier ideal shining now and then among the
+conventions, lift the cycle above the level of mere ear-pleasing rhythms
+and fantastical imageries. Moreover, the sonnet-cycles on the whole show
+an independence and spontaneousness of poetic energy, a delight in the
+pure joy of making, a _naivete_, that richly frame the picture of the
+golden world they present. When Lodge, addressing his "pleasing
+thoughts, apprentices of love," cries out:
+
+    "Show to the world, though poor and scant my skill is,
+    How sweet thoughts be that are but thought on Phillis,"
+
+we feel that we are being taken back to an age more childlike than our
+own; and when the sonneteers vie with each other on the themes of sleep,
+death, time, and immortality, the door often stands open toward
+sublimity. Then when the sonnet-cycle was consecrated to noble and
+spiritual uses in Chapman's _Coronet for his Mistress Philosophy_,
+Barnes's _Divine Century of Spiritual Sonnets_, Constable's _Spiritual
+Sonnets in Honour of God and His Saints_, and Donne's _Holy Sonnets_,
+all made before 1600, the symbolic theme was added to the conventions of
+the sonnet-realm, the scope of its content was broadened; and the sonnet
+was well on its way toward a time when it could be named a trumpet,
+upon which a mighty voice could blow soul-animating strains.
+
+One of the most fascinating questions in the study of the sonnet-cycles
+is as to how much basis the story has in reality. Stella we know, the
+star-crossed love of Sidney, and Spenser's happy Elizabeth, but--
+
+    "Who is Silvia? What is she
+    That all the swains commend her?"
+
+Who is Delia, Diana, Coelia, Caelica, and all the rhyming of musical
+names? And who is the Dark Lady? What personalities hide behind these
+poet's imaginings? We know that now, as in troubadour days, the praises
+of grand ladies were sung with a warmth of language that should indicate
+personal acquaintance when no such acquaintance existed; and the
+sonneteers sometimes frankly confessed their passion "but supposed." All
+this adds to the difficulty of interpretation. In most cases the poet
+has effectually kept his secret; the search is futile, in spite of all
+the "scholastic labour-lost" devoted to it. Equally tantalising are the
+fleeting symbolisms that suggest themselves now and then. The
+confession sometimes made by the poet, that high-flown compliment and
+not true despair is intended, prepares us to accept the symbolic
+application where it forces itself upon us, and to feel the presence
+here and there of platonic or spiritual shadowings. Those who do not
+find pleasure in the Arcadian world of the sonneteer's fancy, may still
+justify their taste in the aspiration that speaks in his flashes of
+philosophy.
+
+
+
+
+PHILLIS
+
+HONORED WITH PASTORAL
+SONNETS, ELEGIES, AND
+AMOROUS DELIGHTS
+
+BY
+
+THOMAS LODGE
+
+
+
+
+THOMAS LODGE
+
+
+One of the first to take up the new fashion of the sonnet-cycle, was
+Thomas Lodge, whose "Phillis" was published in 1595. Lodge had a wide
+acquaintance among the authors of his time, and was in the thick of the
+literary activity in the last two decades of the sixteenth century. But
+in spite of his interesting personality and genius, he has had to wait
+until the present time for full appreciation. To his own age he may have
+appeared as a literary dilettante, who tried his hand at several forms
+of writing, and being outshone by the more excellent in each field, gave
+up the attempt and turned to the practice of medicine. This profession
+engaged him for the last twenty-five years of his life, until his death
+in 1625 at the advanced age of sixty-seven or eight. During all these
+years the gay young "university wit" of earlier days was probably
+forgotten in the venerable and successful physician. It was as "old
+Doctor Lodge" that he was satirised in a Cambridge student's
+Common-place Book in 1611. Heywood mentions him in 1609 among the six
+most famous physicians in England, and in the _Return from Parnassus_, a
+play acted in 1602, he is described as "turning over Galen every day."
+
+Yet no one had been in the last twenty years the sixteenth century more
+responsive than Lodge to the shifting moods of that excitable period.
+Lodge was the son of a Lord Mayor of London, and was a contemporary at
+Oxford with Sidney, Gosson, Chapman, Lyly, Peele and Watson. His life
+included a round of varied experiences. A student at Lincoln's Inn, a
+young aspirant for literary honours, friends with Greene, Rich, Daniel,
+Drayton, Lyly and Watson, a taster of the sorrows that many of the
+University wits endured when usurers got their hands upon them, for a
+time perhaps a soldier, certainly a sailor following the fortunes of
+Captain Clarke to Terceras and the Canaries, and of Cavendish to Brazil
+and the Straits of Magellan, in London again making plays with Greene,
+off to Avignon to take his degree in medicine, back again to be
+incorporated an M.D. at Oxford and to practise in London, adopting
+secretly the Roman Catholic faith, and sometimes hiding on the continent
+as a recusant from persecution at home, imprisoned perhaps once for
+debt, and entertaining a concourse of patients of his own religion till
+his death in 1625:--the life of Lodge thus presents a view of the ups
+and downs possible in that picturesque age.
+
+The wide variety of his literary ventures reflects the interests of his
+life. Some controversial papers, some unsuccessful plays, two dull
+historical sketches in prose, some satirical and moralising works in
+prose and in verse, two romantic tales in verse and three in prose, a
+number of eclogues, metrical epistles and lyrics, some ponderous
+translations from Latin and French, and two medical treatises; these
+widely differing kinds of writing are the products of Lodge's industry
+and genius. All, however, have but an antiquarian interest save two; the
+prose romance called _Rosalynde, Euphues' Golden Legacy_, could not be
+spared since Shakespeare borrowed its charming plot for _As You Like
+It_; and _Phillis_, bound up with a sheaf of his lyrics gathered from
+the pages of his stories and from the miscellanies of the time, should
+be treasured for its own sake and should keep Lodge's memory green for
+lovers of pure poetry.
+
+Lodge's lyric genius was a clear if slender rill. His faults are the
+more unpardonable since they spring from sheer carelessness and a lack
+of appreciation of the sacred responsibility of creative power. He took
+up the literary fashion of the month and tried his hand at it; that
+done, he was ready for the next mode. He did not wait to perfect his
+work or to compare result with result; therefore he probably never found
+himself, probably never realised that after three centuries he would be
+esteemed, not for the ponderous tomes of his translation of Josephus,
+not for all the catalogues of his satirical and religious and scientific
+writings, but for mere lyrics like the "Heigh ho, fair Rosaline," and
+"Love in my bosom like a bee," heedlessly imbedded in the heart of a
+prose romance.
+
+Lodge was one of the earliest to follow the example of Sidney in linking
+a sequence of sonnets together into a sonnet-cycle. The _Astrophel and
+Stella_ was published in 1591, though it had doubtless before this been
+handed about, as was the Elizabethan fashion, in manuscript. Early in
+1591 also when Daniel was probably abroad, twenty-seven of the
+fifty-seven sonnets that a year later formed the sonnet-cycle _Delia_
+were published in his absence. Now in August of 1591 Lodge set sail with
+Cavendish on that long voyage to Brazil and the Straits of Magellan from
+which he did not return till early in ninety-three, and it was during
+his absence that Daniel's and Constable's sonnet-cycles came out. It is
+possible that Lodge saw Daniel's series, as he doubtless did Sidney's,
+in manuscript before he left England, but the Induction to _Phillis_,
+which carries a message to Delia's "sweet prophet," was almost certainly
+written later, and in the absence of further proof it seems no more than
+fair to allow Lodge to share with Daniel and Constable the honour of
+being the earliest to take the hint Sidney had offered.
+
+On the whole, Lodge's sonnets show a much more cheerful and buoyant
+temper than Daniel's "wailing verse." The "sad horror, pale grief,
+prostrate despair" that inform the _Delia_, are replaced in the
+_Phillis_ by a spirit of airy toying, a pleasure in the graces of fancy
+even when they cluster around a feeling of sadness. During Lodge's
+absence, his friend Robert Green published several pieces for him, and
+in one of the prefaces promised the public to present on his return
+"what labours Lodge's sea-studies afford." _Phillis_ was the chief of
+these sea-studies, and was like _Rosalynde_ "hatcht in the stormes of
+the ocean and feathered in the surges of many perillous seas." But as
+far as the imagery of the sonnets is concerned, the pageantry of day and
+night at sea might have passed before blinded eyes; if it made any
+impression, it was in the form of ocean-nymphs and Cupid at the helm.
+The poet was in Arcadia, Phillis was a shepherdess, and the conventional
+imageries of the pastoral valley were the environment. "May it please
+you," he says in dedicating the book to the Countess of Shrewsbury, "to
+looke and like of homlie Phillis in her Country caroling, and to
+countenance her poore and affectionate sheapheard." The Countess of
+Shrewsbury he chooses for the "Sovereign and she-Maecenas" of his toil,
+and promises her "as much in affection as any other can performe in
+perfection;" but the name of Phillis is no cover for the personality of
+a grand lady, and therefore no puzzling questions disturb the pleasure
+of the reader as the gentle modulations, the insidious alliterations,
+and the musical cadences of his double rhymes fall upon the ear.
+
+Yet for this name or ideal, or whatever Phillis represented in the
+poet's thought, he has poured forth a passion that has an air of
+sincerity, an artless freshness, a flute-like clearness of tone, as rare
+as delightful. It is the very voice of the oaten pipe itself, thin,
+clear, and pure. The touches of seriousness are impossible, to mistake.
+When the poet avows his faith in Phillis' constancy, after giving the
+usual catalogue of her beauties, he says:
+
+    "At thy fair hands who wonders not at all
+      Wonder itself through ignorance embases;
+    Yet not the less though wondrous gifts you call these
+    My faith is far more wonderful than all these."
+
+When Phillis persists in her disdain, he cries out impulsively:
+
+    "Burst, burst, poor heart, thou hast no longer hope!"
+
+Even when re-moulding the familiar pastoral conceits, he makes the
+fancies his own and gives to them a unique touch and spirit. Mere
+conventions he rates at their proper value. His pen shall not "riot in
+pompous style." He claims a brighter aspect for his poetical devotion
+than his fellow-sonneteers manifest:
+
+    "No stars her; eyes....
+    .... but beams that clear the sight
+      Of him that seeks the true philosophy."
+
+In spite of its defects, the lax structure of the sonnet-form, the
+obscurities and needless blurring, and the disappointing inequalities,
+_Phillis_ takes a high place among the sonnet-cycles, and must ever be
+dear to lovers of quiet, melodious verse, who have made themselves at
+home in the golden world of the pastoral poets and mislike not the
+country-carolling heard therein.
+
+
+
+
+THE INDUCTION
+
+
+    I that obscured have fled the scene of fame,
+      Intitling my conceits to nought but care,
+      I that have lived a phoenix in love's flame,
+    And felt that death I never would declare,
+      Now mount the theater of this our age,
+      To plead my faith and Cupid's cursed rage.
+
+    Oh you high sp'rited paragons of wit,
+    That fly to fame beyond our earthly pitch,
+    Whose sense is sound, whose words are feat and fit,
+    Able to make the coyest ear to itch;
+      Shroud with your mighty wings that mount so well,
+      These little loves, new crept from out the shell.
+
+    And thou the true Octavia of our time,
+    Under whose worth beauty was never matched,
+    The genius of my muse and ragged rime,
+    Smile on these little loves but lately hatched,
+      Who from the wrastling waves have made retreat,
+      To plead for life before thy judgment seat.
+
+    And though the fore-bred brothers they have had,
+    Who in their swan-like songs Amintas wept,
+    For all their sweet-thought sighs had fortune bad,
+    And twice obscured in Cinthia's circle slept,
+      Yet these I hope, under your kind aspect,
+      Most worthy Lady, shall escape neglect.
+
+    And if these infants of mine artless brain,
+    Not by their worth but by thy worthiness,
+    A mean good liking of the learned gain,
+    My Muse enfranchised from forgetfulness
+      Shall hatch such breed in honour of thy name,
+      As modern poets shall admire the same.
+
+    As modern poets shall admire the same;
+    I mean not you (you never matched men)
+    Who brought the chaos of our tongue in frame,
+    Through these Herculean labours of your pen;
+      I mean the mean, I mean no men divine,
+      But such whose feathers are but waxed like mine.
+
+    Go, weeping truce-men in your sighing weeds,
+    Under a great Maecenas I have passed you;
+    If so you come where learned Colin feeds
+    His lovely flock, pack thence and quickly haste you;
+      You are but mists before so bright a sun,
+      Who hath the palm for deep invention won.
+
+    Kiss Delia's hand for her sweet prophet's sake,
+    Whose not affected but well couched tears
+    Have power, have worth, a marble mind to shake,
+    Whose fame no iron-age or time outwears.
+      Then lay you down in Phillis' lap and sleep,
+      Until the weeping read, and reading weep.
+
+
+I
+
+    Oh pleasing thoughts, apprentices of love,
+    Fore-runners of desire, sweet mithridates
+    The poison of my sorrows to remove,
+    With whom my hopes and fear full oft debates!
+      Enrich yourselves and me by your self riches,
+    Which are the thoughts you spend on heaven-bred beauty,
+    Rouse you my muse beyond our poets' pitches,
+    And, working wonders, yet say all is duty!
+      Use you no eaglets' eyes, nor phoenix' feathers,
+    To tower the heaven from whence heaven's wonder sallies.
+    For why? Your sun sings sweetly to her weathers,
+    Making a spring of winter in the valleys.
+      Show to the world though poor and scant my skill is
+      How sweet thoughts be, that are but thought on Phillis!
+
+
+II
+
+      You sacred sea-nymphs pleasantly disporting
+    Amidst this wat'ry world, where now I sail;
+    If ever love, or lovers sad reporting,
+    Had power sweet tears from your fair eyes to hail;
+      And you, more gentle-hearted than the rest,
+    Under the northern noon-stead sweetly streaming,
+    Lend those moist riches of your crystal crest,
+    To quench the flames from my heart's AEtna streaming;
+      And thou, kind Triton, in thy trumpet relish
+    The ruthful accents of my discontent,
+    That midst this travel desolate and hellish,
+    Some gentle wind that listens my lament
+      May prattle in the north in Phillis' ears:
+      "Where Phillis wants, Damon consumes in tears."
+
+
+III
+
+      In fancy's world an Atlas have I been,
+    Where yet the chaos of my ceaseless care
+    Is by her eyes unpitied and unseen,
+    In whom all gifts but pity planted are;
+      For mercy though still cries my moan-clad muse,
+    And every paper that she sends to beauty,
+    In tract of sable tears brings woeful news,
+    Of my true heart-kind thoughts, and loyal duty.
+      But ah the strings of her hard heart are strained
+    Beyond the harmony of my desires;
+    And though the happy heavens themselves have pained,
+    To tame her heart whose will so far aspires,
+      Yet she who claims the title of world's wonder,
+      Thinks all deserts too base to bring her under.
+
+
+IV
+
+      Long hath my sufferance laboured to enforce
+    One pearl of pity from her pretty eyes,
+    Whilst I with restless rivers of remorse,
+    Have bathed the banks where my fair Phillis lies.
+      The moaning lines which weeping I have written,
+    And writing read unto my ruthful sheep,
+    And reading sent with tears that never fitten,
+    To my love's queen, that hath my heart in keep,
+      Have made my lambkins lay them down and sigh;
+    But Phillis sits, and reads, and calls them trifles.
+    Oh heavens, why climb not happy lines so high,
+    To rent that ruthless heart that all hearts rifles!
+      None writes with truer faith, or greater love,
+      Yet out, alas! I have no power to move.
+
+
+V
+
+      Ah pale and dying infant of the spring,
+    How rightly now do I resemble thee!
+    That selfsame hand that thee from stalk did wring,
+    Hath rent my breast and robbed my heart from me.
+      Yet shalt thou live. For why? Thy native vigour
+    Shall thrive by woeful dew-drops of my dolor;
+    And from the wounds I bear through fancy's rigour,
+    My streaming blood shall yield the crimson color.
+      The ravished sighs that ceaseless take their issue
+    From out the furnace of my heart inflamed,
+    To yield you lasting springs shall never miss you;
+    So by my plaints and pains, you shall be famed.
+    Let my heart's heat and cold, thy crimson nourish,
+    And by my sorrows let thy beauty flourish.
+
+
+VI
+
+      It is not death which wretched men call dying,
+    But that is very death which I endure,
+    When my coy-looking nymph, her grace envying,
+    By fatal frowns my domage doth procure.
+      It is not life which we for life approve,
+    But that is life when on her wool-soft paps
+    I seal sweet kisses which do batten love,
+    And doubling them do treble my good haps.
+      'Tis neither love the son, nor love the mother,
+    Which lovers praise and pray to; but that love is
+    Which she in eye and I in heart do smother.
+    Then muse not though I glory in my miss,
+      Since she who holds my heart and me in durance,
+      Hath life, death, love and all in her procurance.
+
+
+VII
+
+      How languisheth the primrose of love's garden!
+    How trill her tears, th' elixir of my senses!
+    Ambitious sickness, what doth thee so harden?
+    Oh spare, and plague thou me for her offences!
+      Ah roses, love's fair roses, do not languish;
+    Blush through the milk-white veil that holds you covered.
+    If heat or cold may mitigate your anguish,
+    I'll burn, I'll freeze, but you shall be recovered.
+      Good God, would beauty mark now she is crased,
+    How but one shower of sickness makes her tender,
+    Her judgments then to mark my woes amazed,
+    To mercy should opinion's fort surrender!
+      And I,--oh would I might, or would she meant it!
+      Should hery[A] love, who now in heart lament it.
+
+[Footnote A: _hery_, praise.]
+
+
+VIII
+
+      No stars her eyes to clear the wandering night,
+    But shining suns of true divinity,
+    That make the soul conceive her perfect light!
+    No wanton beauties of humanity
+      Her pretty brows, but beams that clear the sight
+    Of him that seeks the true philosophy!
+    No coral is her lip, no rose her fair,
+    But even that crimson that adorns the sun.
+      No nymph is she, but mistress of the air,
+    By whom my glories are but new begun.
+      But when I touch and taste as others do,
+      I then shall write and you shall wonder too.
+
+
+IX
+
+      The dewy roseate Morn had with her hairs
+    In sundry sorts the Indian clime adorned;
+    And now her eyes apparreled in tears,
+    The loss of lovely Memnon long had mourned,
+      When as she spied the nymph whom I admire,
+    Combing her locks, of which the yellow gold
+    Made blush the beauties of her curled wire,
+    Which heaven itself with wonder might behold;
+      Then red with shame, her reverend locks she rent,
+    And weeping hid the beauty of her face,
+    The flower of fancy wrought such discontent;
+    The sighs which midst the air she breathed a space,
+      A three-days' stormy tempest did maintain,
+      Her shame a fire, her eyes a swelling rain.
+
+
+X
+
+      The rumour runs that here in Isis swim
+    Such stately swans so confident in dying,
+    That when they feel themselves near Lethe's brim,
+    They sing their fatal dirge when death is nighing.
+      And I like these that feel my wounds are mortal,
+    Contented die for her whom I adore;
+    And in my joyful hymns do still exhort all
+    To die for such a saint or love no more.
+      Not that my torments or her tyranny
+    Enforce me to enjoin so hard a task,
+    But for I know, and yield no reason why,
+    But will them try that have desire to ask.
+      As love hath wreaths his pretty eyes to seel,
+      So lovers must keep secret what they feel.
+
+
+XI
+
+      My frail and earthly bark, by reason's guide,
+    Which holds the helm, whilst will doth wield the sail,
+    By my desires, the winds of bad betide,
+    Hath sailed these worldly seas with small avail,
+      Vain objects serve for dreadful rocks to quail
+    My brittle boat from haven of life that flies
+    To haunt the sea of mundane miseries.
+    My soul that draws impressions from above,
+      And views my course, and sees the winds aspire,
+    Bids reason watch to scape the shoals of love;
+    But lawless will enflamed with endless ire
+    Doth steer empoop,[B] whilst reason doth retire.
+      The streams increase; love's waves my bark do fill;
+      Thus are they wracked that guide their course by will.
+
+[Footnote B: steer empoop (_text_: steerem poop): _en poupe_.]
+
+
+XII
+
+      Ah trees, why fall your leaves so fast?
+    Ah rocks, where are your robes of moss?
+    Ah flocks, why stand you all aghast?
+    Trees, rocks, and flocks, what, are you pensive for my loss?
+      The birds methinks tune naught but moan,
+    The winds breathe naught but bitter plaint,
+    The beasts forsake their dens to groan;
+    Birds, winds, and beasts, what doth my loss your powers attaint?
+      Floods weep their springs above their bounds,
+    And echo wails to see my woe,
+    The robe of ruth doth clothe the grounds;
+    Floods, echo, grounds, why do you all these tears bestow?
+      The trees, the rocks, and flocks reply,
+      The birds, the winds, the beasts report,
+      Floods, echo, grounds, for sorrow cry,
+    We grieve since Phillis nill kind Damon's love consort.
+
+
+XIII
+
+      Love guides the roses of thy lips,
+    And flies about them like a bee;
+    If I approach he forward skips,
+    And if I kiss he stingeth me.
+      Love in thine eyes doth build his bower,
+    And sleeps within their pretty shine;
+    And if I look the boy will lower,
+    And from their orbs shoots shafts divine.
+      Love works thy heart within his fire,
+    And in my tears doth firm the same;
+    And if I tempt it will retire,
+    And of my plaints doth make a game.
+      Love, let me cull her choicest flowers,
+    And pity me, and calm her eye,
+    Make soft her heart, dissolve her lowers,
+    Then will I praise thy deity.
+      But if thou do not love, I'll truly serve her
+      In spite of thee, and by firm faith deserve her.
+
+
+XIV
+
+      I wrote in Mirrha's bark, and as I wrote,
+    Poor Mirrha wept because I wrote forsaken;
+    'Twas of thy pride I sung in weeping note,
+    When as her leaves great moan for pity maken.
+      The falling fountains from the mountains falling,
+    Cried out, alas, so fair and be so cruel!
+    And babbling echo never ceased calling,
+    Phillis, disdain is fit for none but truthless.
+      The rising pines wherein I had engraved
+    Thy memory consulting with the wind,
+    Are trucemen to thy heart and thoughts depraved,
+    And say, thy kind should not be so unkind.
+      But, out alas! so fell is Phillis fearless,
+      That she hath made her Damon well nigh tearless.
+
+
+XV
+
+    My Phillis hath the morning sun
+      At first to look upon her.
+    And Phillis hath morn-waking birds,
+      Her risings for to honour.
+    My Phillis hath prime-feathered flowers,
+      That smile when she treads on them,
+    And Phillis hath a gallant flock,
+      That leaps since she doth own them.
+    But Phillis hath so hard a heart--
+      Alas that she should have it!--
+    As yields no mercy to desert,
+      Nor grace to those that crave it.
+      Sweet sun, when thou look'st on,
+      Pray her regard my moan.
+      Sweet birds, when you sing to her,
+      To yield some pity woo her.
+      Sweet flowers, whenas she treads on,
+      Tell her, her beauty deads one.
+    And if in life her love she nill agree me,
+    Pray her before I die, she will come see me.
+
+
+XVI
+
+    I part; but how? from joy, from hope, from life;
+    I leave; but whom? love's pride, wit's pomp, heart's bliss;
+    I pine; for what? for grief, for thought, for strife;
+    I faint; and why? because I see my miss.
+      Oh ceaseless pains that never may be told,
+      You make me weep as I to water would!
+    Ah weary hopes, in deep oblivious streams
+    Go seek your graves, since you have lost your grounds!
+    Ah pensive heart, seek out her radiant gleams!
+    For why? Thy bliss is shut within those bounds!
+      All traitorous eyes, to[o] feeble in for[e] sight,
+      Grow dim with woe, that now must want your light!
+    I part from bliss to dwell with ceaseless moan,
+    I part from life, since I from beauty part,
+    I part from peace, to pine in care alone,
+    I part from ease to die with dreadful smart.
+    I part--oh death! for why? this world contains
+    More care and woe than with despair remains.
+      Oh loath depart, wherein such sorrows dwell,
+      As all conceits are scant the same to tell!
+
+
+XVII
+
+      Ah fleeting weal, ah sly deluding sleep,
+    That in one moment giv'st me joy and pain!
+    How do my hopes dissolve to tears in vain,
+    As wont the snows, 'fore angry sun to weep!
+      Ah noisome life that hath no weal in keep!
+    My forward grief hath form and working might;
+    My pleasures like the shadows take their flight;
+    My path to bliss is tedious, long and steep.
+    Twice happy thou Endymion that embracest
+    The live-long night thy love within thine arms,
+    Where thou fond dream my longed weal defacest
+    Whilst fleeting and uncertain shades thou placest
+    Before my eyes with false deluding charms!
+      Ah instant sweets which do my heart revive,
+      How should I joy if you were true alive!
+
+
+XVIII
+
+      As where two raging venoms are united,
+    Which of themselves dissevered life would sever,
+    The sickly wretch of sickness is acquited,
+    Which else should die, or pine in torments ever;
+      So fire and frost, that hold my heart in seizure,
+    Restore those ruins which themselves have wrought,
+    Where if apart they both had had their pleasure,
+    The earth long since her fatal claim had caught.
+      Thus two united deaths keep me from dying;
+    I burne in ice, and quake amidst the fire,
+    No hope midst these extremes or favour spying;
+    Thus love makes me a martyr in his ire.
+      So that both cold and heat do rather feed
+      My ceaseless pains, than any comfort breed.
+
+
+XIX
+
+      Thou tyrannizing monarch that dost tire
+    My love-sick heart through those assaulting eyes,
+    That are the lamps which lighten my desire!
+    If nought but death thy fury may suffice,
+      Not for my peace, but for thy pleasure be it,
+    That Phillis, wrathful Phillis that repines me
+    All grace but death, may deign to come and see it,
+    And seeing grieve at that which she assigns me.
+      This only boon for all my mortal bane
+    I crave and cry for at thy mercy seat:
+    That when her wrath a faithful heart hath slain,
+    And soul is fled, and body reft of heat,
+      She might perceive how much she might command,
+      That had my life and death within her hand.
+
+
+XX
+
+    Some praise the looks, and others praise the locks
+    Of their fair queens, in love with curious words;
+    Some laud the breast where love his treasure locks,
+    All like the eye that life and love affords.
+      But none of these frail beauties and unstable
+    Shall make my pen riot in pompous style;
+    More greater gifts shall my grave muse enable,
+    Whereat severer brows shall never smile.
+      I praise her honey-sweeter eloquence,
+    Which from the fountain of true wisdom floweth,
+    Her modest mien that matcheth excellence,
+    Her matchless faith which from her virtue groweth;
+      And could my style her happy virtues equal,
+      Time had no power her glories to enthral.
+
+
+EGLOGA PRIMA DEMADES DAMON
+
+DEMADES
+
+    Now scourge of winter's wrack is well nigh spent,
+    And sun gins look more longer on our clime,
+    And earth no more to sorrow doth consent,
+    Why been thy looks forlorn that view the prime?
+      Unneth thy flocks may feed to see thee faint,
+      Thou lost, they lean, and both with woe attaint.
+    For shame! Cast off these discontented looks;
+    For grief doth wait on life, though never sought;
+    So Thenot wrote admired for pipe and books.
+    Then to the spring attemper thou thy thought,
+      And let advice rear up thy drooping mind,
+      And leave to weep thy woes unto the wind.
+
+DAMON
+
+    Ah Demades, no wonder though I wail,
+    For even the spring is winter unto me!
+    Look as the sun the earth doth then avail,
+    When by his beams her bowels warmed be;
+      Even so a saint more sun-bright in her shining
+      First wrought my weal, now hastes my winter's pining.
+    Which lovely lamp withdrawn from my poor eyes,
+    Both parts of earth and fire drowned up in woe
+    In winter dwell. My joy, my courage dies;
+    My lambs with me that do my winter know
+      For pity scorn the spring that nigheth near,
+      And pine to see their master's pining cheer.
+    The root which yieldeth sap unto the tree
+    Draws from the earth the means that make it spring;
+    And by the sap the scions fostered be,
+    All from the sun have comfort and increasing
+      And that fair eye that lights this earthly ball
+      Kills by depart, and nearing cheereth all.
+    As root to tree, such is my tender heart,
+    Whose sap is thought, whose branches are content;
+    And from my soul they draw their sweet or smart,
+    And from her eye, my soul's best life is lent;
+    Which heavenly eye that lights both earth and air,
+    Quells by depart and quickens by repair.
+
+DEMADES
+
+    Give period to the process of thy plaint,
+    Unhappy Damon, witty in self-grieving;
+    Tend thou thy flocks; let tyrant love attaint
+    Those tender hearts that made their love their living.
+      And as kind time keeps Phillis from thy sight,
+      So let prevention banish fancy quite.
+
+    Cast hence this idle fuel of desire,
+    That feeds that flame wherein thy heart consumeth;
+    Let reason school thy will which doth aspire,
+    And counsel cool impatience that presumeth;
+      Drive hence vain thoughts which are fond love's abettors,
+      For he that seeks his thraldom merits fetters.
+
+    The vain idea of this deity
+    Nursed at the teat of thine imagination,
+    Was bred, brought up by thine own vanity,
+    Whose being thou mayst curse from the creation;
+      And so thou list, thou may as soon forget love,
+      As thou at first didst fashion and beget love.
+
+DAMON
+
+    Peace, Demades, peace shepherd, do not tempt me;
+    The sage-taught wife may speak thus, but not practise;
+    Rather from life than from my love exempt me,
+    My happy love wherein my weal and wrack lies;
+      Where chilly age first left love, and first lost her,
+      There youth found love, liked love, and love did foster.
+
+    Not as ambitious of their[C] own decay,
+    But curious to equal your fore-deeds,
+    So tread we now within your wonted way;
+    We find your fruits of judgments and their seeds;
+      We know you loved, and loving learn that lore;
+      You scorn kind love, because you can no more.
+
+    Though from this pure refiner of the thought
+    The gleanings of your learnings have you gathered
+    Your lives had been abortive, base and naught,
+    Except by happy love they had been fathered;
+      Then still the swain, for I will still avow it;
+      They have no wit nor worth that disallow it.
+
+    Then to renew the ruins of my tears
+    Be thou no hinderer, Demades, I pray thee.
+    If my love-sighs grow tedious in thine ears,
+    Fly me, that fly from joy, I list not stay thee.
+      Mourn sheep, mourn lambs, and Damon will weep by you;
+      And when I sigh, "Come home, sweet Phillis," cry you.
+
+    Come home, sweet Phillis, for thine absence causeth
+    A flowerless prime-tide in these drooping meadows;
+    To push his beauties forth each primrose pauseth,
+    Our lilies and our roses like coy widows
+      Shut in their buds, their beauties, and bemoan them,
+      Because my Phillis doth not smile upon them.
+
+    The trees by my redoubled sighs long blasted
+    Call for thy balm-sweet breath and sunny eyes,
+    To whom all nature's comforts are hand-fasted;
+    Breathe, look on them, and they to life arise;
+      They have new liveries with each smile thou lendest,
+      And droop with me, when thy fair brow thou bendest.
+
+    I woo thee, Phillis, with more earnest weeping
+    Than Niobe for her dead issue spent;
+    I pray thee, nymph who hast our spring in keeping,
+    Thou mistress of our flowers and my content,
+      Come home, and glad our meads of winter weary,
+      And make thy woeful Damon blithe and merry.
+
+    Else will I captive all my hopes again,
+    And shut them up in prisons of despair,
+    And weep such tears as shall destroy this plain,
+    And sigh such sighs as shall eclipse the air,
+      And cry such cries as love that hears my crying
+      Shall faint and weep for grief and fall a-dying.
+
+    My little world hath vowed no sun shall glad it,
+    Except thy little world her light discover,
+    Of which heavens would grow proud if so they had it.
+    Oh how I fear lest absent Jove should love her!
+      I fear it, Phillis, for he never saw one
+      That had more heaven-sweet looks to lure and awe one.
+
+    I swear to thee, all-seeing sovereign
+    Rolling heaven's circles round about our center,
+    Except my Phillis safe return again,
+    No joy to heart, no meat to mouth shall enter.
+      All hope (but future hope to be renowned,
+      For weeping Phillis) shall in tears be drowned.
+
+DEMADES
+
+    How large a scope lends Damon to his moan,
+    Wafting those treasures of his happy wit
+    In registering his woeful woe-begone!
+    Ah bend thy muse to matters far more fit!
+      For time shall come when Phillis is interred,
+      That Damon shall confess that he hath erred.
+
+    When nature's riches shall, by time dissolved,
+    Call thee to see with more judicial eye
+    How Phillis' beauties are to dust resolved,
+    Thou then shalt ask thyself the reason why
+      Thou wert so fond, since Phillis was so frail,
+      To praise her gifts that should so quickly fail.
+
+    Have mercy on thyself, cease being idle,
+    Let reason claim and gain of will his homage;
+    Rein in these brain-sick thoughts with judgment's bridle,
+    A short prevention helps a mighty domage.
+      If Phillis love, love her, yet love her so
+      That if she fly, thou may'st love's fire forego.
+
+    Play with the fire, yet die not in the flame;
+    Show passions in thy words, but not in heart;
+    Lest when thou think to bring thy thoughts in frame,
+    Thou prove thyself a prisoner by thine art.
+      Play with these babes of love, as apes with glasses,
+      And put no trust in feathers, wind, or lasses.
+
+DAMON
+
+    Did not thine age yield warrantise, old man,
+    Impatience would enforce me to offend thee;
+    Me list not now thy forward skill to scan,
+    Yet will I pray that love may mend or end thee.
+      Spring flowers, sea-tides, earth, grass, sky, stars shall banish,
+      Before the thoughts of love or Phillis vanish.
+
+    So get thee gone, and fold thy tender sheep,
+    For lo, the great automaton of day
+    In Isis stream his golden locks doth steep;
+    Sad even her dusky mantle doth display;
+      Light-flying fowls, the posts of night, disport them,
+      And cheerful-looking vesper doth consort them.
+
+    Come you, my careful flock, forego you master,
+    I'll fold you up and after fall a-sighing;
+    Words have no worth my secret wounds to plaster;
+    Naught may refresh my joys but Phillis nighing.
+      Farewell, old Demades.
+
+DEMADES
+
+                            Damon, farewell.
+    How 'gainst advice doth headlong youth rebel!
+
+[Footnote C: Our?]
+
+
+AN ELEGY
+
+    Ah cruel winds, why call you hence away?
+    Why make you breach betwixt my soul and me?
+    Ye traitorous floods, why nil your floats delay
+    Until my latest moans discoursed be?
+    For though ye salt sea-gods withhold the rain
+    Of all your floats and gentle winds be still,
+    While I have wept such tears as might restrain
+    The rage of tides and winds against their will.
+    Ah shall I love your sight, bright shining eyes?
+    And must my soul his life and glory leave?
+    Must I forsake the bower where solace lives,
+    To trust to tickle fates that still deceive?
+    Alas, so wills the wanton queen of change,
+    That each man tract this labyrinth of life
+    With slippery steps, now wronged by fortune strange,
+    Now drawn by counsel from the maze of strife!
+    Ah joy! No joy because so soon thou fleetest,
+    Hours, days, and times inconstant in your being!
+    Oh life! No life, since with such chance thou meetest!
+    Oh eyes! No eyes, since you must lose your seeing!
+    Soul, be thou sad, dissolve thy living powers
+    To crystal tears, and by their pores express
+    The grief that my distressed soul devours!
+    Clothe thou my body all in heaviness;
+    My suns appeared fair smiling full of pleasure,
+    But now the vale of absence overclouds them;
+    They fed my heart with joys exceeding measure
+    Which now shall die, since absence needs must shroud them.
+    Yea, die! Oh death, sweet death, vouchsafe that blessing,
+    That I may die the death whilst she regardeth!
+    For sweet were death, and sweet were death's oppressing,
+    If she look on who all my life awardeth.
+    Oh thou that art the portion of my joy,
+    Yet not the portion, for thou art the prime;
+    Suppose my griefs, conceive the deep annoy
+    That wounds my soul upon this sorry time!
+    Pale is my face, and in my pale confesses
+    The pain I suffer, since I needs must leave thee.
+    Red are mine eyes through tears that them oppresses,
+    Dulled are my sp'rits since fates do now bereave thee.
+    And now, ah now, my plaints are quite prevented!
+    The winds are fair the sails are hoised high,
+    The anchors weighed, and now quite discontented,
+    Grief so subdues my heart as it should die.
+    A faint farewell with trembling hand I tender,
+    And with my tears my papers are distained.
+    Which closed up, my heart in them I render,
+    To tell thee how at parting I complained.
+    Vouchsafe his message that doth bring farewell,
+    And for my sake let him with beauty dwell.
+
+
+THIRSIS EGLOGA SECUNDA
+
+    Muses help me, sorrow swarmeth,
+    Eyes are fraught with seas of languish;
+    Heavy hope my solace harmeth,
+    Mind's repast is bitter anguish.
+
+    Eye of day regarded never
+    Certain trust in world untrusty;
+    Flattering hope beguileth ever
+    Weary, old, and wanton lusty.
+
+    Dawn of day beholds enthroned
+    Fortune's darling, proud and dreadless;
+    Darksome night doth hear him moaned,
+    Who before was rich and needless.
+
+    Rob the sphere of lines united,
+    Make a sudden void in nature;
+    Force the day to be benighted,
+    Reave the cause of time and creature;
+
+    Ere the world will cease to vary,
+    This I weep for, this I sorrow.
+    Muses, if you please to tarry,
+    Further helps I mean to borrow.
+
+    Courted once by fortune's favour,
+    Compassed now with envy's curses,
+    All my thoughts of sorrow savour,
+    Hopes run fleeting like the sources.
+
+    Ay me! Wanton scorn hath maimed
+    All the joy my heart enjoyed;
+    Thoughts their thinking have disclaimed,
+    Hate my hopes hath quite annoyed.
+
+    Scant regard my weal hath scanted,
+    Looking coy hath forced my lowering;
+    Nothing liked where nothing wanted
+    Weds mine eyes to ceaseless showering.
+
+    Former love was once admired,
+    Present favour is estranged,
+    Loath the pleasure long desired;
+    Thus both men and thoughts are changed.
+
+    Lovely swain with lucky guiding,
+    Once (but now no more so friended)
+    Thou my flocks hast had in minding,
+    From the morn till day was ended.
+
+    Drink and fodder, food and folding,
+    Had my lambs and ewes together;
+    I with them was still beholding,
+    Both in warmth and winter weather.
+
+    Now they languish since refused,
+    Ewes and lambs are pained with pining;
+    I with ewes and lambs confused,
+    All unto our deaths declining.
+
+    Silence, leave thy cave obscured;
+    Deign a doleful swain to tender;
+    Though disdains I have endured,
+    Yet I am no deep offender.
+
+    Phillis' son can with his finger
+    Hide his scar, it is so little;
+    Little sin a day to linger,
+    Wise men wander in a tittle.
+
+    Thriftless yet my swain have turned,
+    Though my sun he never showeth:
+    Though I weep, I am not mourned;
+    Though I want, no pity groweth.
+
+    Yet for pity love my muses;
+    Gentle silence be their cover;
+    They must leave their wonted uses,
+    Since I leave to be a lover.
+
+    They shall live with thee inclosed,
+    I will loathe my pen and paper
+    Art shall never be supposed,
+    Sloth shall quench the watching taper.
+
+    Kiss them, silence, kiss them kindly
+    Though I leave them, yet I love them;
+    Though my wit have led them blindly,
+    Yet my swain did once approve them.
+
+    I will travel soils removed,
+    Night and morrow never merry;
+    Thou shalt harbour that I loved,
+    I will love that makes me weary.
+
+    If perchance the sheep estrayeth,
+    In thy walks and shades unhaunted,
+    Tell the teen my heart betrayeth,
+    How neglect my joys hath daunted.
+
+
+XXI
+
+      Ye heralds of my heart, mine ardent groans,
+    O tears which gladly would burst out to brooks,
+    Oh spent on fruitless sand my surging moans,
+    Oh thoughts enthralled unto care-boding looks!
+      Ah just laments of my unjust distress,
+    Ah fond desires whom reason could not guide!
+    Oh hopes of love that intimate redress,
+    Yet prove the load-stars unto bad betide!
+      When will you cease? Or shall pain never-ceasing,
+    Seize oh my heart? Oh mollify your rage,
+    Lest your assaults with over-swift increasing,
+    Procure my death, or call on timeless age.
+      What if they do? They shall but feed the fire,
+      Which I have kindled by my fond desire.
+
+
+XXII
+
+      Fair art thou, Phillis, ay, so fair, sweet maid,
+    As nor the sun, nor I have seen more fair;
+    For in thy cheeks sweet roses are embayed,
+    And gold more pure than gold doth gild thy hair.
+      Sweet bees have hived their honey on thy tongue,
+    And Hebe spiced her nectar with thy breath;
+    About thy neck do all the graces throng,
+    And lay such baits as might entangle death.
+      In such a breast what heart would not be thrall?
+    From such sweet arms who would not wish embraces?
+    At thy fair hands who wonders not at all,
+    Wonder itself through ignorance embases?
+      Yet natheless though wondrous gifts you call these,
+    My faith is far more wonderful than all these.
+
+
+XXIII
+
+      Burst, burst, poor heart! Thou hast no longer hope;
+    Captive mine eyes unto eternal sleep;
+    Let all my senses have no further scope;
+    Let death be lord of me and all my sheep!
+      For Phillis hath betrothed fierce disdain,
+    That makes his mortal mansion in her heart;
+    And though my tongue have long time taken pain
+    To sue divorce and wed her to desert,
+      She will not yield, my words can have no power;
+    She scorns my faith, she laughs at my sad lays,
+    She fills my soul with never ceasing sour,
+    Who filled the world with volumes of her praise.
+      In such extremes what wretch can cease to crave
+      His peace from death, who can no mercy have!
+
+
+XXIV
+
+      No glory makes me glorious or glad,
+    Nor pleasure may to pleasure me dispose,
+    No comfort can revive my senses sad,
+    Nor hope enfranchise me with one repose.
+      Nor in her absence taste I one delight,
+    Nor in her presence am I well content;
+    Was never time gave term to my despite,
+    Nor joy that dried the tears of my lament.
+      Nor hold I hope of weal in memory,
+    Nor have I thought to change my restless grief,
+    Nor doth my conquest yield me sovereignty,
+    Nor hope repose, nor confidence relief.
+      For why? She sorts her frowns and favours so,
+      As when I gain or lose I cannot know.
+
+
+XXV
+
+      I wage the combat with two mighty foes,
+    Which are more strong than I ten thousand fold;
+    The one is when thy pleasure I do lose,
+    The other, when thy person I behold.
+      In seeing thee a swarm of loves confound me,
+    And cause my death in spite of my resist,
+    And if I see thee not, thy want doth wound me,
+    For in thy sight my comfort doth consist.
+      The one in me continual care createth,
+    The other doth occasion my desire;
+    The one the edge of all my joy rebateth,
+    The other makes me a phoenix in love's fire.
+      So that I grieve when I enjoy your presence,
+      And die for grief by reason of your absence.
+
+
+XXVI
+
+      I'll teach thee, lovely Phillis, what love is.
+    It is a vision seeming such as thou,
+    That flies as fast as it assaults mine eyes;
+    It is affection that doth reason miss;
+      It is a shape of pleasure like to you,
+    Which meets the eye, and seen on sudden dies;
+    It is a doubled grief, a spark of pleasure
+    Begot by vain desire. And this is love,
+      Whom in our youth we count our chiefest treasure,
+    In age for want of power we do reprove.
+      Yea, such a power is love, whose loss is pain,
+      And having got him we repent our gain.
+
+
+XXVII
+
+      Fair eyes, whilst fearful I your fair admire,
+    By unexpressed sweetness that I gain,
+    My memory of sorrow doth expire,
+    And falcon-like, I tower joy's heavens amain.
+      But when your suns in oceans of their glory
+    Shut up their day-bright shine, I die for thought;
+    So pass my joys as doth a new-played story,
+    And one poor sigh breathes all delight to naught.
+      So to myself I live not, but for you;
+    For you I live, and you I love, but none else,
+    Oh then, fair eyes, whose light I live to view,
+    Or poor forlorn despised to live alone else,
+      Look sweet, since from the pith of contemplation
+      Love gathereth life, and living, breedeth passion.
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+      Not causeless were you christened, gentle flowers,
+    The one of faith, the other fancy's pride;
+    For she who guides both faith and fancy's power,
+    In your fair colors wraps her ivory side.
+      As one of you hath whiteness without stain,
+    So spotless is my love and never tainted;
+    And as the other shadoweth faith again,
+    Such is my lass, with no fond change acquainted.
+      And as nor tyrant sun nor winter weather
+    May ever change sweet amaranthus' hue,
+    So she though love and fortune join together,
+    Will never leave to be both fair and true.
+      And should I leave thee then, thou pretty elf?
+      Nay, first let Damon quite forget himself.
+
+
+XXIX
+
+      I feel myself endangered beyond reason,
+    My death already 'twixt the cup and lip,
+    Because my proud desire through cursed treason,
+    Would make my hopes mount heaven, which cannot skip;
+      My fancy still requireth at my hands
+    Such things as are not, cannot, may not be,
+    And my desire although my power withstands,
+    Will give me wings, who never yet could flee.
+      What then remains except my maimed soul
+    Extort compassion from love-flying age,
+    Or if naught else their fury may control,
+    To call on death that quells affection's rage;
+      Which death shall dwell with me and never fly,
+      Since vain desire seeks that hope doth deny.
+
+
+XXX
+
+      I do compare unto thy youthly clear,
+    Which always bides within thy flow'ring prime,
+    The month of April, that bedews our clime
+    With pleasant flowers, when as his showers appear.
+      Before thy face shall fly false cruelty,
+    Before his face the doly season fleets;
+    Mild been his looks, thine eyes are full of sweets;
+    Firm is his course, firm is thy loyalty.
+      He paints the fields through liquid crystal showers,
+    Thou paint'st my verse with Pallas, learned flowers;
+    With Zephirus' sweet, breath he fills the plains,
+    And thou my heart with weeping sighs dost wring;
+      His brows are dewed with morning's crystal spring,
+      Thou mak'st my eyes with tears bemoan my pains.
+
+
+XXXI
+
+      Devoid of reason, thrall to foolish ire,
+    I walk and chase a savage fairy still,
+    Now near the flood, straight on the mounting hill,
+    Now midst the woods of youth, and vain desire.
+      For leash I bear a cord of careful grief;
+    For brach I lead an over-forward mind;
+    My hounds are thoughts, and rage despairing blind,
+    Pain, cruelty, and care without relief.
+      But they perceiving that my swift pursuit
+    My flying fairy cannot overtake,
+    With open mouths their prey on me do make,
+    Like hungry hounds that lately lost their suit.
+      And full of fury on their master feed,
+      To hasten on my hapless death with speed.
+
+
+XXXII
+
+      A thousand times to think and think the same,
+    To two fair eyes to show a naked heart,
+    Great thirst with bitter liquor to restrain,
+    To take repast of care and crooked smart;
+      To sigh full oft without relent of ire,
+    To die for grief and yet conceal the tale,
+    To others' will to fashion my desire,
+    To pine in looks disguised through pensive-pale;
+      A short dispite, a faith unfeigned true,
+    To love my foe, and set my life at naught,
+    With heedless eyes mine endless harms to view,
+    A will to speak, a fear to tell the thought;
+      To hope for all, yet for despair to die,
+      Is of my life the certain destiny.
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+      When first sweet Phillis, whom I must adore,
+    Gan with her beauties bless our wond'ring sky,
+    The son of Rhea, from their fatal store
+    Made all the gods to grace her majesty.
+      Apollo first his golden rays among,
+    Did form the beauty of her bounteous eyes;
+    He graced her with his sweet melodious song,
+    And made her subject of his poesies.
+      The warrior Mars bequeathed her fierce disdain,
+    Venus her smile, and Phoebe all her fair,
+    Python his voice, and Ceres all her grain,
+    The morn her locks and fingers did repair.
+      Young Love, his bow, and Thetis gave her feet;
+      Clio her praise, Pallas her science sweet.
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+      I would in rich and golden-coloured rain,
+    With tempting showers in pleasant sort descend
+    Into fair Phillis' lap, my lovely friend,
+    When sleep her sense with slumber doth restrain.
+      I would be changed to a milk-white bull,
+    When midst the gladsome fields she should appear,
+    By pleasant fineness to surprise my dear,
+    Whilst from their stalks, she pleasant flowers did pull.
+      I were content to weary out my pain,
+    To be Narsissus so she were a spring,
+    To drown in her those woes my heart do wring.
+    And more; I wish transformed to remain,
+      That whilst I thus in pleasure's lap did lie,
+      I might refresh desire, which else would die.
+
+
+XXXV
+
+      I hope and fear, I pray and hold my peace,
+    Now freeze my thoughts and straight they fry again,
+    I now admire and straight my wonders cease,
+    I loose my bonds and yet myself restrain;
+      This likes me most that leaves me discontent,
+    My courage serves and yet my heart doth fail,
+    My will doth climb whereas my hopes are spent,
+    I laugh at love, yet when he comes I quail;
+      The more I strive, the duller bide I still.
+    I would be thralled, and yet I freedom love,
+    I would redress, yet hourly feed mine ill,
+    I would repine, and dare not once reprove;
+      And for my love I am bereft of power,
+      And strengthless strive my weakness to devour.
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+      If so I seek the shades, I presently do see
+    The god of love forsakes his bow and sit me by;
+    If that I think to write, his Muses pliant be
+    If so I plain my grief, the wanton boy will cry,
+      If I lament his pride, he doth increase my pain;
+    If tears my cheeks attaint, his cheeks are moist with moan;
+    If I disclose the wounds the which my heart hath slain,
+    He takes his fascia off, and wipes them dry anon.
+      If so I walk the woods, the woods are his delight;
+    If I myself torment, he bathes him in my blood;
+    He will my soldier be if once I wend to fight,
+    If seas delight, he steers my bark amidst the hood.
+      In brief, the cruel god doth never from me go,
+      But makes my lasting love eternal with my woe.
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+    These fierce incessant waves that stream along my face,
+    Which show the certain proof of my ne'er-ceasing pains,
+    Fair Phillis, are no tears that trickle from my brains;
+    For why? Such streams of ruth within me find no place.
+    These floods that wet my cheeks are gathered from thy grace
+    And thy perfections, and from hundred thousand flowers
+    Which from thy beauties spring; whereto I medley showers
+    Of rose and lilies too, the colours of thy face.
+    My love doth serve for fire, my heart the furnace is,
+    The aperries of my sighs augment the burning flame,
+    The limbec is mine eye that doth distil the same;
+    And by how much my fire is violent and sly,
+    By so much doth it cause the waters mount on high,
+    That shower from out mine eyes, for to assuage my miss.
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+    Who lives enthralled to Cupid and his flame,
+    From day to day is changed in sundry sort;
+    The proof whereof myself may well report,
+    Who oft transformed by him may teach the same.
+    I first was turned into a wounded hart,
+    That bare the bloody arrow in my side;
+    Then to a swan that midst the waters glide,
+    With piteous voice presaged my deadly smart;
+    Eftsoons I waxed a faint and fading flower;
+    Then was I made a fountain sudden dry,
+    Distilling all my tears from troubled eye;
+    Now am I salamander by his power,
+      Living in flames, but hope ere long to be
+      A voice, to talk my mistress' majesty.
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+    My matchless mistress, whose delicious eyes
+    Have power to perfect nature's privy wants,
+    Even when the sun in greatest pomp did rise,
+    With pretty tread did press the tender plants.
+      Each stalk whilst forth she stalks, to kiss her feet
+      Is proud with pomp, and prodigal of sweet.
+    Her fingers fair in favouring every flower
+    That wooed their ivory for a wished touch,
+    By chance--sweet chance!--upon a blessed hour
+    Did pluck the flower where Love himself did couch.
+      Where Love did couch by summer toil suppressed,
+      And sought his sleeps within so sweet a nest.
+    The virgin's hand that held the wanton thrall,
+    Imprisoned him within the roseate leaves;
+    And twixt her teats, with favour did install
+    The lovely rose, where Love his rest receives.
+      The lad that felt the soft and sweet so nigh,
+      Drowned in delights, disdains his liberty;
+    And said, let Venus seek another son,
+    For here my only matchless mother is;
+    From whose fair orient orbs the drink doth run,
+    That deifies my state with greater bliss.
+      This said, he sucked, my mistress blushing smiled,
+      Since Love was both her prisoner and her child.
+
+
+AN ODE
+
+    Now I find thy looks were feigned,
+    Quickly lost, and quickly gained;
+    Soft thy skin, like wool of wethers,
+    Heart unstable, light as feathers,
+    Tongue untrusty, subtile-sighted,
+    Wanton will, with change delighted,
+    Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
+    Cupid plague thee for this treason!
+
+    Of thine eyes, I made my mirror,
+    From thy beauty came mine error,
+    All thy words I counted witty,
+    All thy smiles I deemed pity.
+    Thy false tears that me aggrieved,
+    First of all my trust deceived.
+    Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
+    Cupid plague thee for this treason!
+
+    Feigned acceptance when I asked,
+    Lovely words with cunning masked,
+    Holy vows but heart unholy;
+    Wretched man, my trust was folly!
+    Lily white and pretty winking,
+    Solemn vows, but sorry thinking.
+    Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
+    Cupid plague thee for this treason!
+
+    Now I see, O seemly cruel,
+    Others warm them at my fuel!
+    Wit shall guide me in this durance,
+    Since in love is no assurance.
+    Change thy pasture, take thy pleasure;
+    Beauty is a fading treasure.
+    Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
+    Cupid plague thee for this treason!
+
+    Prime youth lusts not age still follow,
+    And make white these tresses yellow;
+    Wrinkled face for looks delightful
+    Shall acquaint the dame despightful;
+    And when time shall eat thy glory,
+    Then too late thou wilt be sorry.
+    Siren pleasant, foe to reason,
+    Cupid plague thee for thy treason!
+
+
+XL
+
+      Resembling none, and none so poor as I,
+    Poor to the world, and poor in each esteem,
+    Whose first-born loves at first obscured did die,
+    And bred no fame but flame of base misdeem,
+      Under the ensign of whose tired pen,
+    Love's legions forth have masked, by others masked;
+    Think how I live wronged by ill-tongued men,
+    Not master of myself, to all wrongs tasked!
+      Oh thou that canst, and she that may do all things,
+    Support these languishing conceits that perish!
+    Look on their growth; perhaps these silly small things
+    May win this wordly palm, so you do cherish.
+      Homer hath vowed, and I with him do vow this,
+      He will and shall revive, if you allow this.
+
+
+
+
+LICIA
+
+OR
+
+POEMS OF LOVE IN HONOR OF
+THE ADMIRABLE AND SINGULAR
+VIRTUES OF HIS LADY, TO THE
+IMITATION OF THE BEST LATIN
+POETS AND OTHERS
+
+BY
+
+GILES FLETCHER, LL.D.
+
+
+
+
+GILES FLETCHER, LL.D.
+
+
+Giles Fletcher, author of _Licia_, was one of that distinguished family
+that included Richard Fletcher, the Bishop of London, and his son John
+Fletcher, the dramatist. The two sons of Dr. Giles Fletcher were also
+men of marked poetic ability: Phineas, the author of that extraordinary
+allegorical poem, _The Purple Island_; and Giles, of _Christ's Victory
+and Triumph_. There was a strong family feeling in this circle; Phineas
+and Giles pay compliments to each other in their verse and show great
+reverence and tenderness toward the memory of the poetic powers of their
+father. But Giles Fletcher the elder was not thought of in his own time
+as a poet. Educated at Eton and Trinity, Cambridge, where he was made
+LL.D. in 1581, a member of Parliament in '85, employed in many public
+services at home and abroad during a career that lasted until 1611, in
+which year Dr. Fletcher died at the age of seventy-two, he was known as
+a man of action, a man for public responsibility, rather than as the
+retired scholar or riming courtier. Most important among the foreign
+embassages undertaken by Fletcher was the one to Russia. The results
+were of great import to England, commercially and otherwise, but the
+book he wrote on his return was, for political reasons, suppressed.
+
+It happened that the years of enforced idleness that followed the
+suppression of this book came in the time when the young sonneteers at
+London were all busy. He returned from his embassage in '89; the book
+was suppressed in '91. _Licia_ was published in '93. The writing of
+_Licia_ was "rather an effect than a cause of idleness;" he did it "only
+to try his humor," he says apologetically in the dedicatory addresses.
+"Whereas my thoughts and some reasons drew me rather to have dealt in
+causes of greater weight, yet the present jar of this disagreeing age
+drives me into a fit so melancholy, as I had only leisure to grow
+passionate."
+
+In case wise heads should think him to be treating "an idle subject and
+so frivolous," or that it has been "vainly handled and so odious," he
+sets forth the nobility of his view. "Howsoever, Love in this age hath
+behaved himself in that loose manner as it is counted a disgrace to give
+him but a kind look, yet I take the passion in itself to be of that
+honor and credit, as it is a perfect resemblance of the greatest
+happiness, and rightly valued at his just price (in a mind that is
+sincerely and truly amorous), an affection of greatest virtue and able
+of himself to eternise the meanest vassal." "For Love," he declares, "is
+a goddess (pardon me though I speak like a poet) not respecting the
+contentment of him that loves, but the virtues of the beloved; satisfied
+with wondering, fed with admiration; respecting nothing but his lady's
+worthiness; made as happy by love as by all favors; chaste by honor; far
+from violence; respecting but one, and that one in such kindness,
+honesty, truth, constancy, and honor, as were all the world offered to
+make a change, yet the boot were too small and therefore bootless. This
+is love, and far more than this, which I know a vulgar head, a base
+mind, an ordinary conceit, a common person will not nor cannot have.
+Thus do I commend that love wherewith in these poems I have honoured the
+worthy Licia."
+
+The sonnet-cycle is inscribed "To the worthie kinde wise and virtuous
+ladie, the Ladie Mollineux; wife to the right worshipful Sir Richard
+Mollineux Knight." Nothing is known of this lady, except that her family
+may possibly have been very distantly connected with that of Fletcher.
+What the poet's feeling was towards his patroness he defines
+sufficiently. "Now in that I have written love sonnets, if any man
+measure my affection by my style, let him say I am in love.... Yet take
+this by the way; though I am so liberal to grant thus much, a man may
+write of love and not be in love, as well as of husbandry and not go to
+the plough, or of witches and be none, or of holiness and be flat
+profane."
+
+What "shadowings" the poet may intend he refuses to confide to us. "If
+thou muse what my Licia is, take her to be some Diana, at the least
+chaste; or some Minerva; no Venus, fairer far. It may be she is
+Learning's image, or some heavenly wonder, which the precisest may not
+dislike: perhaps under that name I have shadowed Discipline. It may be I
+mean that kind courtesy which I found at the patroness of these poems.
+It may be some college; it may be my conceit, and portend nothing." It
+is evident then that the patroness herself is not the real person behind
+the poetic title. He therefore dedicates _Licia_ to Lady Molineux, not
+because the sonnets themselves are addressed to her, but because he has
+received "favours undeserved" at her hands and those of "wise Sir
+Richard" for which he "wants means to make recompence," and therefore in
+the meantime he begs her to accept this. "If thou like it," he says to
+the reader, "take it, and thank the worthy Lady Mollineux, for whose
+sake thou hast it; worthy, indeed, and so not only reputed by me in
+private affection of thankfulness but so equally to be esteemed by all
+that know her. For if I had not received of her ... those unrequitable
+favours, I had not thus idly toyed."
+
+A warm admirer of Fletcher has expressed his opinion that _Licia_
+"sparkles with brilliants of the first water." A more temperate
+judgment is that of another, who says that he "took part without
+discredit in the choir of singers who were men of action too." _Licia_
+is what a typical sonnet-cycle ought to be, a delicate and almost
+intangible thread of story on which are strung the separate
+sonnet-pearls. In this case the jewels have a particular finish.
+Fletcher has adopted the idea of a series of quatrains, often extending
+the number to four, and a concluding couplet, which he seems fond of
+utilising to give an epigrammatic finish to the ingenious incident he so
+often makes the subject of the sonnet. He is fully in the spirit of the
+Italian mode, however, acknowledging in his title page his indebtedness
+to poets of other nationalities than his own.
+
+
+
+
+TO LICIA
+
+THE WISE, KIND, VIRTUOUS, AND FAIR
+
+
+    Bright matchless star, the honour of the sky,
+    From whose clear shine heaven's vault hath all his light,
+    I send these poems to your graceful eye;
+    Do you but take them, and they have their right.
+    I build besides a temple to your name,
+    Wherein my thoughts shall daily sing your praise;
+    And will erect an altar for the same,
+    Which shall your virtues and your honour raise.
+    But heaven the temple of your honour is,
+    Whose brasen tops your worthy self made proud;
+    The ground an altar, base for such a bliss
+    With pity torn, because I sighed so loud.
+    And since my skill no worship can impart,
+    Make you an incense of my loving heart.
+    Sad all alone not long I musing sat,
+    But that my thoughts compelled me to aspire,
+    A laurel garland in my hand I gat;
+    So the Muses I approached the nigher.
+    My suite was this, a poet to become,
+    To drink with them, and from the heavens be fed.
+    Phoebus denied, and sware there was no room,
+    Such to be poets as fond fancy led.
+    With that I mourned and sat me down to weep.
+    Venus she smiled, and smiling to me said,
+    "Come, drink with me, and sit thee still and sleep."
+    This voice I heard; and Venus I obeyed.
+    That poison sweet hath done me all this wrong,
+    For now of love must needs be all my song.
+
+
+II
+
+    Weary was love and sought to take his rest,
+    He made his choice, upon a virgin's lap;
+    And slyly crept from thence unto her breast,
+    Where still he meant to sport him in his hap;
+    The virgin frowned like Phoebus in a cloud;
+    "Go pack, sir boy, here is no room for such,
+    My breast no wanton foolish boy must shroud."
+    This said, my love did give the wag a touch;
+    Then as the foot that treads the stinging snake
+    Hastes to be gone, for fear what may ensue,
+    So love my love was forced for to forsake,
+    And for more speed, without his arrows flew.
+    "Pardon," he said, "For why? You seemed to me
+    My mother Venus in her pride to be."
+
+
+III
+
+    The heavens beheld the beauty of my queen,
+    And all amazed, to wonder thus began:
+    "Why dotes not Jove, as erst we all have seen,
+    And shapes himself like to a seemly man?
+    Mean are the matches which he sought before,
+    Like bloomless buds, too base to make compare,
+    And she alone hath treasured beauty's store,
+    In whom all gifts and princely graces are."
+    Cupid replied: "I posted with the sun
+    To view the maids that lived in those days,
+    And none there was that might not well be won,
+    But she, most hard, most cold, made of delays."
+      Heavens were deceived, and wrong they do esteem,
+      She hath no heat, although she living seem.
+
+
+IV
+
+    Love and my love did range the forest wild,
+    Mounted alike, upon swift coursers both.
+    Love her encountered, though he was a child.
+    "Let's strive," saith he, whereat my love was wroth,
+    And scorned the boy, and checked him with a smile.
+    "I mounted am, and armed with my spear;
+    Thou art too weak, thyself do not beguile;
+    I could thee conquer if I naked were."
+    With this love wept, and then my love replied:
+    "Kiss me, sweet boy, so weep my boy no more."
+    Thus did my love, and then her force she tried;
+    Love was made ice, that fire was before.
+    A kiss of hers, as I, poor soul, do prove,
+    Can make the hottest freeze and coldest love.
+
+
+V
+
+    Love with her hair my love by force hath tied,
+    To serve her lips, her eyes, her voice, her hand;
+    I smiled for joy, when I the boy espied
+    To lie unchained and live at her command.
+    She if she look, or kiss, or sing, or smile,
+    Cupid withal doth smile, doth sing, doth kiss,
+    Lips, hands, voice, eyes, all hearts that may beguile,
+    Because she scorns all hearts but only this.
+    Venus for this in pride began to frown
+    That Cupid, born a god, enthralled should be.
+    She in disdain her pretty son threw down,
+    And in his place, with love she chained me.
+    So now, sweet love, though I myself be thrall,
+    Not her a goddess, but thyself I call.
+
+
+VI
+
+    My love amazed did blush herself to see,
+    Pictured by art, all naked as she was.
+    "How could the painter know so much by me,
+    Or art effect what he hath brought to pass?
+    It is not like he naked me hath seen,
+    Or stood so nigh for to observe so much."
+    No, sweet; his eyes so near have never been,
+    Nor could his hands by art have cunning such;
+    I showed my heart, wherein you printed were,
+    You, naked you, as here you painted are;
+    In that my love your picture I must wear,
+    And show't to all, unless you have more care.
+    Then take my heart, and place it with your own;
+    So shall you naked never more be known.
+
+
+VII
+
+    Death in a rage assaulted once my heart
+    With love of her, my love that doth deny.
+    I scorned his force, and wished him to depart,
+    I heartless was, and therefore could not die.
+    I live in her, in her I placed my life,
+    She guides my soul, and her I honour must.
+    Nor is this life but yet a living strife,
+    A thing unmeet, and yet a thing most just.
+    Cupid enraged did fly to make me love,
+    My heart lay guarded with those burning eyes
+    The sparks whereof denied him to remove;
+    So conquered now, he like a captive lies;
+    Thus two at once by love were both undone,
+    My heart not loved, and armless Venus' son.
+
+
+VIII
+
+    Hard are the rocks, the marble, and the steel,
+    The ancient oak with wind and weather tossed;
+    But you, my love, far harder do I feel
+    Than flint, or these, or is the winter's frost.
+    My tears too weak, your heart they cannot move;
+    My sighs, that rock, like wind it cannot rent;
+    Too tiger-like you swear you cannot love;
+    But tears and sighs you fruitless back have sent.
+    The frost too hard, not melted with my flame,
+    I cinders am, and yet you feel no heat.
+    Surpass not these, sweet love, for very shame,
+    But let my tears, my vows, my sighs entreat;
+    Then shall I say as by trial find;
+    These all are hard, but you, my love, are kind.
+
+
+IX
+
+    Love was laid down, all weary fast asleep,
+    Whereas my love his armor took away;
+    The boy awaked, and straight began to weep,
+    But stood amazed, and knew not what to say.
+    "Weep not, my boy," said Venus to her son,
+    "Thy weapons none can wield, but thou alone;
+    Licia the fair, this harm to thee hath done,
+    I saw her here, and presently was gone;
+    She will restore them, for she hath no need
+    To take thy weapons where thy valour lies;
+    For men to wound the Fates have her decreed,
+    With favour, hands, with beauty, and with eyes."
+    No, Venus, no: she scorns them, credit me;
+    But robbed thy son that none might care for thee.
+
+
+X
+
+    A painter drew the image of the boy,
+    Swift love, with wings all naked, and yet blind;
+    With bow and arrows, bent for to destroy;
+    I blamed his skill, and fault I thus did find:
+    "A needless task I see thy cunning take;
+    Misled by love, thy fancy thee betrayed;
+    Love is no boy, nor blind, as men him make,
+    Nor weapons wears, whereof to be affrayed;
+    But if thou, love, wilt paint with greatest skill
+    A love, a maid, a goddess, and a queen;
+    Wonder and view at Licia's picture still,
+    For other love the world hath never seen;
+    For she alone all hope all comfort gives;
+    Men's hearts, souls, all, led by her favour lives."
+
+
+XI
+
+    In Ida vale three queens the shepherd saw,
+    Queens of esteem, divine they were all three,
+    A sight of worth. But I a wonder shaw,
+    Their virtues all in one alone to be.
+    Licia the fair, surpassing Venus' pride,
+    (The matchless queen, commander of the gods,
+    When drawn with doves she in her pomp doth ride)
+    Hath far more beauty, and more grace by odds
+    Juno, Jove's wife, unmeet to make compare,
+    I grant a goddess, but not half so mild;
+    Minerva wise, a virtue, but not rare;
+    Yet these are mean, if that my love but smiled.
+      She them surpasseth, when their prides are full
+      As far as they surpass the meanest trull.
+
+
+XII
+
+    I wish sometimes, although a worthless thing,
+    Spurred by ambition, glad to aspire,
+    Myself a monarch, or some mighty king,
+    And then my thoughts do wish for to be higher.
+    But when I view what winds the cedars toss,
+    What storms men feels that covet for renown,
+    I blame myself that I have wished my loss,
+    And scorn a kingdom, though it give a crown.
+    Ah Licia, though the wonder of my thought,
+    My heart's content, procurer of my bliss,
+    For whom a crown I do esteem as naught,
+    As Asia's wealth, too mean to buy a kiss!
+      Kiss me, sweet love, this favor do for me;
+      Then crowns and kingdoms shall I scorn for thee.
+
+
+XIII
+
+    Enamored Jove commanding did entreat
+    Cupid to wound my love, which he denied,
+    And swore he could not for she wanted heat
+    And would not love, as he full oft had tried.
+    Jove in a rage, impatient this to hear,
+    Replied with threats; "I'll make you to obey!"
+    Whereat the boy did fly away for fear
+    To Licia's eyes, where safe intrenched he lay.
+    Then Jove he scorned, and dared him to his face,
+    For now more safe than in the heavens he dwelled,
+    Nor could Jove's wrath do wrong to such a place
+    Where grace and honour have their kingdom held.
+      Thus in the pride and beauty of her eyes
+      The seely boy the greatest god defies.
+
+
+XIV
+
+    My love lay sleeping, where birds music made,
+    Shutting her eyes, disdainful of the light;
+    The heat was great but greater was the shade
+    Which her defended from his burning sight.
+    This Cupid saw, and came a kiss to take,
+    Sucking sweet nectar from her sugared breath;
+    She felt the touch, and blushed, and did awake,
+    Seeing t'was love, which she did think was death,
+    She cut his wings and caused him to stay,
+    Making a vow, he should not thence depart,
+    Unless to her the wanton boy could pay
+    The truest, kindest and most loving heart.
+      His feathers still she used for a fan,
+      Till by exchange my heart his feathers won.
+
+
+XV
+
+    I stood amazed, and saw my Licia shine,
+    Fairer than Phoebus, in his brightest pride,
+    Set forth in colors by a hand divine,
+    Where naught was wanting but a soul to guide.
+    It was a picture, that I could descry,
+    Yet made with art so as it seemed to live,
+    Surpassing fair, and yet it had no eye,
+    Whereof my senses could no reason give.
+    With that the painter bid me not to muse;
+    "Her eyes are shut, but I deserve no blame;
+    For if she saw, in faith, it could not choose
+    But that the work had wholly been a flame,"--
+      Then burn me, sweet, with brightness of your eyes,
+      That phoenix-like from thence I may arise.
+
+
+XVI
+
+    Grant, fairest kind, a kiss unto thy friend!
+    A blush replied, and yet a kiss I had.
+    It is not heaven that can such nectar send
+    Whereat my senses all amazed were glad.
+    This done, she fled as one that was affrayed,
+    And I desired to kiss by kissing more;
+    My love she frowned, and I my kissing stayed,
+    Yet wished to kiss her as I did before.
+    Then as the vine the propping elm doth clasp,
+    Loath to depart till both together die,
+    So fold me, sweet, until my latest gasp,
+    That in thy arms to death I kissed may lie.
+      Thus whilst I live for kisses I must call;
+      Still kiss me, sweet, or kiss me not at all.
+
+
+XVII
+
+    As are the sands, fair Licia, on the shore,
+    Or colored flowers, garlands of the spring,
+    Or as the frosts not seen, not felt before,
+    Or as the fruits that autumn forth doth bring;
+    As twinkling stars, the tinsel of the night,
+    Or as the fish that gallop in the seas;
+    As airs each part that still escapes our sight,
+    So are my sighs, controllers of my ease.
+    Yet these are such as needs must have an end,
+    For things finite none else hath nature done;
+    Only the sighs, which from my heart I send,
+    Will never cease, but where they first begun.
+      Accept them, sweet, as incense due to thee;
+      For you immortal made them so to be.
+
+
+XVIII
+
+    I swear, fair Licia, still for to be thine,
+    By heart, by eyes, by what I held most dear;
+    Thou checked mine oath, and said: these were not mine,
+    And that I had no right by them to swear.
+    Then by my sighs, my passions, and my tears,
+    My vows, my prayers, my sorrow, and my love,
+    My grief, my joy, my hope, and hopeless fears,
+    My heart is thine, and never shall remove.
+    These are not thine, though sent unto thy view,
+    All else I grant, by right they are thine own;
+    Let these suffice that what I swear is true,
+    And more than this if that it could be known.
+      So shall all these though troubles ease my grief;
+      If that they serve to work in thee belief.
+
+
+XIX
+
+    That time, fair Licia, when I stole a kiss,
+    From off those lips, where Cupid lovely laid,
+    I quaked for cold, and found the cause was this:
+    My life which loved, for love behind me staid.
+    I sent my heart my life for to recall,
+    But that was held, not able to return,
+    And both detained as captives were in thrall,
+    And judged by her, that both by sighs should burn.
+    Fair, burn them both, for that they were so bold,
+    But let the altar be within thy heart;
+    And I shall live because my life you hold,
+    You that give life, to every living part;
+      A flame I took whenas I stole the kiss;
+      Take you my life, yet can I live with this.
+
+
+XX
+
+    First did I fear, when first my love began;
+    Possessed in fits by watchful jealousy,
+    I sought to keep what I by favour won,
+    And brooked no partner in my love to be.
+    But tyrant sickness fed upon my love,
+    And spread his ensigns, dyed with colour white;
+    Then was suspicion glad for to remove,
+    And loving much did fear to lose her quite.
+    Erect, fair sweet, the colors thou didst wear;
+    Dislodge thy griefs; the short'ners of content;
+    For now of life, not love, is all my fear,
+    Lest life and love be both together spent.
+      Live but, fair love, and banish thy disease,
+      And love, kind heart, both where and whom thou please.
+
+
+XXI
+
+    Licia my love was sitting in a grove,
+    Tuning her smiles unto the chirping songs,
+    But straight she spied where two together strove,
+    Each one complaining of the other's wrongs.
+    Cupid did cry lamenting of the harm;
+    Jove's messenger, thou wrong'st me too too far;
+    Use thou thy rod, rely upon the charm;
+    Think not by speech my force thou canst debar.
+    A rod, Sir boy, were fitter for a child,
+    My weapons oft and tongue and mind you took;
+    And in my wrong at my distress thou smiled,
+    And scorned to grace me with a loving look.
+      Speak you, sweet love, for you did all the wrong
+      That broke his arrows, and did bind his tongue.
+
+
+XXII
+
+    I might have died before my life begun,
+    Whenas my father for his country's good
+    The Persian's favor and the Sophy won
+    And yet with danger of his dearest blood.
+    Thy father, sweet, whom danger did beset,
+    Escaped all, and for no other end
+    But only this, that you he might beget,
+    Whom heavens decreed into the world to send.
+    Then father, thank thy daughter for thy life,
+    And Neptune praise that yielded so to thee,
+    To calm the tempest when the storms were rife,
+    And that thy daughter should a Venus be.
+    I call thee Venus, sweet, but be not wroth;
+    Thou art more chaste, yet seas did favor both.
+
+
+XXIII
+
+    My love was masked, and armed with a fan,
+    To see the sun so careless of his light,
+    Which stood and gazed, and gazing waxed wan
+    To see a star himself that was more bright.
+    Some did surmize she hid her from the sun,
+    Of whom in pride she scorned for to be kissed,
+    Or feared the harm by him to others done.
+    But these the reason of this wonder missed,
+    Nor durst the sun, if that her face were bare
+    In greatest pride, presume to take a kiss.
+    But she more kind did show she had more care
+    Than with her eyes eclipse him of his bliss.
+      Unmask you, sweet, and spare not; dim the sun;
+      Your light's enough, although that his were done.
+
+
+XXIV
+
+    Whenas my love lay sickly in her bed,
+    Pale death did post in hope to have a prey;
+    But she so spotless made him that he fled;
+    "Unmeet to die," she cried, and could not stay.
+    Back he retired, and thus the heavens he told;
+    "All things that are, are subject unto me,
+    Both towns, and men, and what the world doth hold;
+    But her fair Licia still immortal be."
+    The heavens did grant; a goddess she was made,
+    Immortal, fair, unfit to suffer change.
+    So now she lives, and never more shall fade;
+    In earth a goddess, what can be more strange?
+      Then will I hope, a goddess and so near,
+      She cannot choose my sighs and prayers but hear.
+
+
+XXV
+
+    Seven are the lights that wander in the skies,
+    And at these seven, I wonder in my love.
+    So see the moon, how pale she doth arise,
+    Standing amazed, as though she durst not move;
+    So is my sweet much paler than the snow,
+    Constant her looks, these looks that cannot change.
+    Mercury the next, a god sweet-tongued we know,
+    But her sweet voice doth wonders speak more strange.
+    The rising Sun doth boast him of his pride,
+    And yet my love is far more fair than he.
+    The warlike Mars can wieldless weapons guide,
+    But yet that god is far more weak than she.
+    The lovely Venus seemeth to be fair,
+    But at her best my love is far more bright.
+    Saturn for age with groans doth dim the air,
+    Whereas my love with smiles doth give it light.
+      Gaze at her brows, where heaven ingrafted is;
+      Then sigh, and swear, there is no heaven but this.
+
+
+XXVI
+
+    I live, sweet love, whereas the gentle wind
+    Murmurs with sport in midst of thickest boughs,
+    Where loving woodbine doth the harbor bind,
+    And chirping birds do echo forth my vows;
+    Where strongest elm can scarce support the vine,
+    And sweetest flowers enameled have the ground;
+    Where Muses dwell; and yet hereat repine
+    That on the earth so rare a place was found.
+    But winds delight, I wish to be content;
+    I praise the woodbine, but I take no joy;
+    I moan the birds that music thus have spent;
+    As for the rest, they breed but mine annoy.
+      Live then, fair Licia, in this place alone;
+      Then shall I joy though all of these were gone.
+
+
+XXVII
+
+    The crystal stream wherein my love did swim,
+    Melted in tears as partners of my woe;
+    Her shine was such as did the fountain dim,
+    The pearl-like fountain whiter than the snow;
+    Then like perfume, resolved with a heat,
+    The fountain smoked, as if it thought to burn;
+    A wonder strange to see the cold so great,
+    And yet the fountain into smoke to turn.
+    I searched the cause, and found it to be this:
+    She touched the water, and it burned with love.
+    Now by her means it purchased hath that bliss,
+    Which all diseases quickly can remove.
+      Then if by you these streams thus blessed be,
+      Sweet, grant me love, and be not worse to me.
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+    In time the strong and stately turrets fall,
+    In time the rose and silver lilies die,
+    In time the monarchs captive are and thrall,
+    In time the sea and rivers are made dry;
+    The hardest flint in time doth melt asunder;
+    Still living fame in time doth fade away;
+    The mountains proud we see in time come under;
+    And earth for age we see in time decay;
+    The sun in time forgets for to retire
+    From out the east where he was wont to rise;
+    The basest thoughts we see in time aspire,
+    And greedy minds in time do wealth despise.
+      Thus all, sweet fair, in time must have an end,
+      Except thy beauty, virtues, and thy friend.
+
+
+XXIX
+
+    Why died I not whenas I last did sleep?
+    O sleep too short that shadowed forth my dear!
+    Heavens, hear my prayers, nor thus me waking keep!
+    For this were heaven, if thus I sleeping were.
+    For in that dark there shone a princely light;
+    Two milk-white hills, both full of nectar sweet,
+    Her ebon thighs, the wonder of my sight,
+    Where all my senses with their objects meet,--
+    I pass these sports, in secret that are best,
+    Wherein my thoughts did seem alive to be;
+    We both did strive, and weary both did rest;
+    I kissed her still, and still she kissed me.
+      Heavens, let me sleep, and shows my senses feed,
+      Or let me wake and happy be indeed!
+
+
+XXX
+
+    Whenas my Licia sailed in the seas,
+    Viewing with pride god Neptune's stately crown,
+    A calm she made, and brought the merchant ease,
+    The storm she stayed, and checked him with a frown.
+    Love at the stern sate smiling and did sing
+    To see how seas had learned for to obey;
+    And balls of fire into the waves did fling;
+    And still the boy full wanton thus did say:--
+    "Both poles we burnt whereon the world doth turn,
+    The round of heaven from earth unto the skies;
+    And now the seas we both intend to burn,
+    I with my bow, and Licia with her eyes."
+      Then since thy force, heavens, earth, nor seas can move,
+      I conquered yield, and do confess I love.
+
+
+XXXI
+
+    Whenas her lute is tuned to her voice,
+    The air grows proud for honour of that sound,
+    And rocks do leap to show how they rejoice
+    That in the earth such music should be found.
+    Whenas her hair more worth, more pale than gold,
+    Like silver thread lies wafting in the air,
+    Diana-like she looks, but yet more bold;
+    Cruel in chase, more chaste and yet more fair.
+    Whenas she smiles, the clouds for envy breaks;
+    She Jove in pride encounters with a check;
+    The sun doth shine for joy whenas she speaks;
+    Thus heaven and earth do homage at her beck.
+      Yet all these graces, blots, not graces are,
+      If you, my love, of love do take no care.
+
+
+XXXII
+
+    Years, months, days, hours, in sighs I sadly spend;
+    I black the night wherein I sleepless toss;
+    I love my griefs yet wish them at an end;
+    Thus time's expense increaseth but my loss.
+    I musing stand and wonder at my love,
+    That in so fair should be a heart of steel;
+    And then I think my fancy to remove,
+    But then more painful I my passions feel;
+    Thus must I love, sweet fair, until I die,
+    And your unkindness doth my love increase.
+    I conquered am, I can it not deny;
+    My life must end, yet shall my love not cease.
+      Then heavens, make Licia fair most kind to me,
+      Or with my life my loss may finished be!
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+    I wrote my sighs, and sent them to my love;
+    I praised that fair that none enough could praise;
+    But plaints nor praises could fair Licia move;
+    Above my reach she did her virtues raise,
+    And thus replied: "False Scrawl, untrue thou art,
+    To feign those sighs that nowhere can be found;
+    For half those praises came not from his heart
+    Whose faith and love as yet was never found.
+    Thy master's life, false Scrawl shall be thy doom;
+    Because he burns, I judge thee to the flame;
+    Both your attempts deserve no better room."
+    Thus at her word we ashes both became.
+      Believe me, fair, and let my paper live;
+      Or be not fair, and so me freedom give.
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+    Pale are my looks, forsaken of my life,
+    Cinders my bones, consumed with thy flame,
+    Floods are my tears, to end this burning strife,
+    And yet I sigh for to increase the same;
+    I mourn alone because alone I burn;
+    Who doubts of this, then let him learn to love;
+    Her looks cold ice into a flame can turn,
+    As I distressed in myself do prove.
+    Respect, fair Licia, what my torments are;
+    Count but the tithe both of my sighs and tears;
+    See how my love doth still increase my care,
+    And care's increase my life to nothing wears.
+      Send but a sigh my flame for to increase,
+      Or lend a tear and cause it so to cease.
+
+
+XXXV
+
+    Whenas I wish, fair Licia, for a kiss
+    From those sweet lips where rose and lilies strive,
+    Straight do mine eyes repine at such a bliss,
+    And seek my lips thereof for to deprive;
+    Whenas I seek to glut mine eyes by sight,
+    My lips repine and call mine eyes away;
+    Thus both contend to have each other's right,
+    And both conspire to work my full decay.
+    O force admired of beauty in her pride,
+    In whose each part such strange effects there be,
+    That all my forces in themselves divide,
+    And make my senses plainly disagree.
+      If all were mine, this envy would be gone;
+      Then grant me all, fair sweet, or grant me none!
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+    Hear how my sighs are echoed of the wind;
+    See how my tears are pitied by the rain;
+    Feel what a flame possessed hath my mind;
+    Taste but the grief which I possess in vain.
+    Then if my sighs the blustering winds surpass,
+    And wat'ry tears the drops of rain exceed,
+    And if no flame like mine nor is nor was,
+    Nor grief like that whereon my soul doth feed,
+    Relent, fair Licia, when my sighs do blow;
+    Yield at my tears, that flintlike drops consume;
+    Accept the flame that doth my incense show,
+    Allow the grief that is my heart's perfume.
+      Thus sighs and tears, flame, grief shall plead for me;
+      So shall I pray, and you a goddess be.
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+    I speak, fair Licia, what my torments be,
+    But then my speech too partial do I find;
+    For hardly words can with those thoughts agree,
+    Those thoughts that swarm in such a troubled mind.
+    Then do I vow my tongue shall never speak
+    Nor tell my grief that in my heart doth lie;
+    But cannon-like, I then surcharged do break,
+    And so my silence worse than speech I try.
+    Thus speech or none, they both do breed my care;
+    I live dismayed, and kill my heart with grief;
+    In all respects my case alike doth fare
+    To him that wants, and dare not ask relief.
+      Then you, fair Lucia, sovereign of my heart,
+      Read to yourself my anguish and my smart.
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+    Sweet, I protest, and seal it with an oath:
+    I never saw that so my thoughts did please;
+    And yet content displeased I see them wroth
+    To love so much and cannot have their ease.
+    I told my thoughts, my sovereign made a pause,
+    Disposed to grant, but willing to delay;
+    They then repined, for that they knew no cause,
+    And swore they wished she flatly would say nay.
+    Thus hath my love, my thoughts with treason filled,
+    And 'gainst my sovereign taught them to repine.
+    So thus my treason all my thoughts hath killed,
+    And made fair Licia say she is not mine.
+      But thoughts too rash my heart doth now repent;
+      And as you please, they swear, they are content.
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+    Fair matchless nymph, respect but what I crave;
+    My thoughts are true, and honour is my love;
+    I fainting die whom yet a smile might save;
+    You gave the wound, and can the hurt remove.
+    Those eyes like stars that twinkle in the night,
+    And cheeks like rubies pale in lilies dyed,
+    Those ebon hands that darting hath such might
+    That _in_ my soul my love and life divide,
+    Accept the passions of a man possessed;
+    Let love be loved and grant me leave to live;
+    Disperse those clouds that darkened have my rest,
+    And let your heaven a sun-like smile but give!
+      Then shall I praise that heaven for such a sun
+      That saved my life, whenas my grief begun.
+
+
+XL
+
+    My grief begun, fair saint, when first I saw
+    Love in those eyes sit ruling with disdain,
+    Whose sweet commands did keep a world in awe,
+    And caused them serve your favor to obtain.
+    I stood as one enchanted with a frown,
+    Yet smiled to see all creatures serve those eyes,
+    Where each with sighs paid tribute to that crown,
+    And thought them graced by your dumb replies.
+    But I, ambitious, could not be content
+    Till that my service more than sighs made known;
+    And for that end my heart to you I sent
+    To say and swear that, fair, it is your own.
+      Then greater graces, Licia, do impart,
+      Not dumb replies unto a speaking heart.
+
+
+SONNET MADE UPON THE TWO TWINS, DAUGHTERS OF THE LADY MOLLINEUX, BOTH
+PASSING LIKE, AND EXCEEDING FAIR
+
+    Poets did feign that heavens a Venus had,
+    Matchless herself, and Cupid was her son;
+    Men sued to these, and of their smiles were glad,
+    By whom so many famous were undone.
+    Now Cupid mourns that he hath lost his might,
+    And that these two so comely are to see;
+    And Venus frowns because they have her right.
+    Yet both so like that both shall blameless be;
+    With heaven's two twins for godhead these may strive,
+    And rule a world with least part of a frown;
+    Fairer than these two twins are not alive,
+    Both conquering queens, and both deserve a crown.
+      My thoughts presage, which time to come shall try,
+      That thousands conquered for their love shall die.
+
+
+XLI
+
+    If, aged Charon, when my life shall end,
+    I pass thy ferry and my waftage pay,
+    Thy oars shall fall, thy boat and mast shall rend,
+    And through the deep shall be a dry foot-way.
+    For why? My heart with sighs doth breathe such flame
+    That air and water both incensed be,
+    The boundless ocean from whose mouth they came,
+    For from my heat not heaven itself is free.
+    Then since to me thy loss can be no gain,
+    Avoid thy harm and fly what I foretell.
+    Make thou thy love with me for to be slain,
+    That I with her and both with thee may dwell.
+      Thy fact thus, Charon, both of us shall bless,
+      Thou save thy boat and I my love possess.
+
+
+XLII
+
+    For if alone thou think to waft my love,
+    Her cold is such as can the sea command,
+    And frozen ice shall let thy boat to move,
+    Nor can thy forces row it from the land.
+    But if thou friendly both at once shalt take,
+    Thyself mayst rest. For why? My sighs will blow.
+    Our cold and heat so sweet a thaw shall make,
+    As that thy boat without thy help shall row.
+    Then will I sit and glut me on those eyes
+    Wherewith my life my eyes could never fill.
+    Thus from my boat that comfort shall arise,
+    The want whereof my life and hope did kill.
+      Together placed so thou her scorn shalt cross,
+      Where if we part thy boat must suffer loss.
+
+
+XLIII
+
+    Are those two stars, her eyes, my life's light gone,
+    By which my soul was freed from all dark?
+    And am I left distressed to live alone,
+    Where none my tears and mournful tale shall mark?
+    Ah sun, why shine thy looks, thy looks like gold,
+    When horsemen brave thou risest in the east?
+    Ah Cynthia pale, to whom my griefs I told,
+    Why do you both rejoice both man and beast?
+    And I alone, alone that dark possess
+    By Licia's absence brighter than the sun,
+    Whose smiling light did ease my sad distress,
+    And broke the clouds, when tears like rain begun.
+      Heavens, grant that light and so me waking keep,
+      Or shut my eyes and rock me fast asleep!
+
+
+XLIV
+
+    Cruel fair love, I justly do complain
+    Of too much rigor and thy heart unkind,
+    That for mine eyes thou hast my body slain,
+    And would not grant that I should favour find.
+    I looked, fair love, and you my love looked fair,
+    I sighed for love and you for sport did smile.
+    Your smiles were such as did perfume the air,
+    And this perfumed did my heart beguile.
+    Thus I confess the fault was in mine eyes,
+    Begun with sighs and ended with a flame.
+    I for your love did all the world despise;
+    And in these poems honored have your name.
+      Then let your love so with my fault dispense,
+      That all my parts feel not mine eyes' offense.
+
+
+XLV
+
+    There shone a comet, and it was full west.
+    My thoughts presaged what it did portend;
+    I found it threatened to my heart unrest,
+    And might in time my joys and comfort end.
+    I further sought and found it was a sun,
+    Which day nor night did never use to set.
+    It constant stood when heavens did restless run,
+    And did their virtues and their forces let.
+    The world did muse and wonder what it meant,
+      A sun to shine and in the west to rise;
+    To search the truth, I strength and spirits spent;
+      At length I found it was my Licia's eyes.
+    Now never after soul shall live in dark,
+    That hath the hap this western sun to mark.
+
+
+XLVI
+
+    If he be dead, in whom no heart remains,
+    Or lifeless be in whom no life is found;
+    If he do pine that never comfort gains,
+    And be distressed that hath his deadly wound;
+    Then must I die whose heart elsewhere is clad,
+    And lifeless pass the greedy worms to feed;
+    Then must I pine that never comfort had,
+    And be distressed whose wound with tears doth bleed.
+    Which if I do, why do I not wax cold?
+    Why rest I not like one that wants a heart?
+    Why move I still like him that life doth hold,
+    And sense enjoy both of my joy and smart?
+    Like Niobe queen which made a stone did weep,
+    Licia my heart dead and alive doth keep.
+
+
+XLVII
+
+    Like Memnon's rock, touched with the rising sun
+    Which yields a sound and echoes forth a voice,
+    But when it's drowned in western seas is done,
+    And drowsy-like leaves off to make a noise;
+    So I, my love, enlightened with your shine,
+    A poet's skill within my soul I shroud,
+    Not rude like that which finer wits decline,
+    But such as Muses to the best allowed.
+    But when your figure and your shape is gone
+    I speechless am like as I was before;
+    Or if I write, my verse is filled with moan,
+    And blurred with tears by falling in such store.
+      Then muse not, Licia, if my Muse be slack,
+      For when I wrote I did thy beauty lack.
+
+
+XLVIII
+
+    I saw, sweet Licia, when the spider ran
+    Within your house to weave a worthless web,
+    You present were and feared her with your fan,
+    So that amazed speedily she fled.
+    She in your house such sweet perfumes did smell,
+    And heard the Muses with their notes refined,
+    Thus filled with envy, could no longer dwell,
+    But straight returned and at your house repined.
+    Then tell me, spider, why of late I saw
+    Thee lose thy poison, and thy bowels gone;
+    Did these enchant and keep thy limbs in awe,
+    And made thy forces to be small or none?
+      No, no, thou didst by chance my Licia see,
+      Who for her look Minerva seemed to thee.
+
+
+XLIX
+
+    If that I die, fair Licia, with disdain,
+    Or heartless live surprised with thy wrong,
+    Then heavens and earth shall accent both my pain,
+    And curse the time so cruel and so long.
+    If you be kind, my queen, as you are fair,
+    And aid my thoughts that still for conquest strive,
+    Then will I sing and never more despair,
+    And praise your kindness whilst I am alive.
+    Till then I pay the tribute of my tears,
+    To move thy mercy and thy constant truth.
+    Respect, fair love, how these with sorrow wears
+    The truest heart unless it find some ruth.
+      Then grace me, sweet, and with thy favor raise me,
+      So shall I live and all the world shall praise thee.
+
+
+L
+
+    Ah Licia, sigh and say thou art my own;
+    Nay, be my own, as you full oft have said.
+    So shall your truth unto the world be known,
+    And I resolved where now I am afraid.
+    And if my tongue eternize can your praise,
+    Or silly speech increase your worthy fame,
+    If ought I can, to heaven your worth can raise,
+    The age to come shall wonder at the same.
+    In this respect your love, sweet love, I told,
+    My faith and truth I vowed should be forever.
+    You were the cause if that I was too bold;
+    Then pardon this my fault or love me never.
+      But if you frown I wish that none believe me,
+      For slain with sighs I'll die before I grieve thee.
+
+
+LI
+
+    When first the sun whom all my senses serve,
+    Began to shine upon this earthly round,
+    The heavens for her all graces did reserve,
+    That Pandor-like with all she might abound.
+    Apollo placed his brightness in her eyes,
+    His skill presaging and his music sweet.
+    Mars gave his force; all force she now defies;
+    Venus her smiles wherewith she Mars did meet;
+    Python a voice, Diana made her chaste,
+    Ceres gave plenty, Cupid lent his bow,
+    Thetis his feet, there Pallas wisdom placed.
+    With these she queen-like kept a world in awe.
+      Yet all these honors deemed are but pelf,
+      For she is much more worthy of herself.
+
+
+LII
+
+    O sugared talk, wherewith my thoughts do live!
+    O brows, love's trophy and my senses' shine!
+    O charming smiles, that death or life can give!
+    O heavenly kisses from a mouth divine!
+    O wreaths too strong, and trammels made of hair!
+    O pearls inclosed in an ebon pale!
+    O rose and lilies in a field most fair,
+    Where modest white doth make the red seem pale!
+    O voice whose accents live within my heart!
+    O heavenly hand that more than Atlas holds!
+    O sighs perfumed, that can release my smart!
+    O happy they whom in her arms she folds!
+      Now if you ask where dwelleth all this bliss,
+      Seek out my love and she will tell you this.
+
+
+AN ODE
+
+    Love, I repent me that I thought
+    My sighs and languish dearly bought.
+    For sighs and languish both did prove
+    That he that languished sighed for love.
+    Cruel rigor, foe to state,
+    Looks disdainful, fraught with hate,
+    I did blame, but had no cause;
+    Love hath eyes, but hath no laws.
+    She was sad and could not choose
+    To see me sigh and sit and muse.
+    We both did love and both did doubt
+    Least any should our love find out.
+    Our hearts did speak, by sighs most hidden;
+    This means was left, all else forbidden.
+    I did frown her love to try,
+    She did sigh and straight did cry.
+    Both of us did sighs believe,
+    Yet either grieved friend to grieve.
+    I did look and then did smile;
+    She left sighing all that while.
+    Both were glad to see that change,
+    Things in love that are not strange.
+    Suspicion, foolish foe to reason,
+    Caused me seek to find some treason.
+    I did court another dame,
+    False in love, it is a shame!--
+    She was sorry this to view,
+    Thinking faith was proved untrue.
+    Then she swore she would not love
+    One whom false she once did prove.
+    I did vow I never meant
+    From promise made for to relent.
+    The more I said the worse she thought,
+    My oaths and vows were deemed as naught.
+    "False," she said "how can it be,
+    To court another yet love me?
+    Crowns and love no partners brook;
+    If she be liked I am forsook.
+    Farewell, false, and love her still,
+    Your chance was good, but mine was ill.
+    No harm to you, but this I crave,
+    That your new love may you deceive,
+    And jest with you as you have done,
+    For light's the love that quickly won."
+    "Kind, and fair-sweet, once believe me;
+    Jest I did but not to grieve thee.
+    Court I did, but did not love;
+    All my speech was you to prove.
+    Words and sighs and what I spent,
+    In show to her, to you were meant.
+    Fond I was your love to cross;
+    Jesting love oft brings this loss.
+    Forget this fault, and love your friend,
+    Which vows his truth unto the end."
+    "Content," she said, "if this you keep."
+    Thus both did kiss, and both did weep.
+    For women long they cannot chide,
+    As I by proof in this have tried.
+
+
+A DIALOGUE BETWIXT TWO SEA-NYMPHS DORIS AND GALATEA CONCERNING
+POLPHEMUS; BRIEFLY TRANSLATED OUT OF LUCIAN
+
+    The sea-nymphs late did play them on the shore,
+    And smiled to see such sport was new begun,
+    A strife in love, the like not heard before,
+    Two nymphs contend which had the conquest won.
+    Doris the fair with Galate did chide;
+    She liked her choice, and to her taunts replied.
+
+DORIS
+
+    Thy love, fair nymph, that courts thee on this plain,
+    As shepherds say and all the world can tell,
+    Is that foul rude Sicilian Cyclop-swain;
+    A shame, sweet nymph, that he with thee should mell.
+
+GALATEA
+
+    Smile not, fair Doris, though he foul do seem,
+    Let pass thy words that savour of disgrace;
+    He's worth my love, and so I him esteem,
+    Renowned by birth, and come of Neptune's race,
+    Neptune that doth the glassy ocean tame,
+    Neptune, by birth from mighty Jove which came.
+
+DORIS
+
+    I grant an honour to be Neptune's child,
+    A grace to be so near with Jove allied.
+    But yet, sweet nymph, with this be not beguiled;
+    Where nature's graces are by looks decried,
+    So foul, so rough, so ugly as a clown,
+    And worse than this, a monster with one eye!
+    Foul is not graced, though it wear a crown,
+    But fair is beauty, none can that deny.
+
+GALATEA
+
+    Nor is he foul or shapeless as you say,
+    Or worse; for that he clownish seems to be,
+    Rough, satyr-like, the better he will play,
+    And manly looks the fitter are for me.
+    His frowning smiles are graced by his beard,
+    His eye-light, sun-like, shrouded is in one.
+    This me contents, and others make afeard.
+    He sees enough, and therefore wanteth none.
+
+DORIS
+
+    Nay, then I see, sweet nymph, thou art in love,
+    And loving, dotes; and doting, dost commend
+    Foul to be fair; this oft do lovers prove;
+    I wish him fairer, or thy love an end.
+
+GALATEA
+
+    Doris, I love not, yet I hardly bear
+    Disgraceful terms, which you have spoke in scorn.
+    You are not loved; and that's the cause I fear;
+    For why? My love of Jove himself was born.
+    Feeding his sheep of late amidst this plain,
+    Whenas we nymphs did sport us on the shore,
+    He scorned you all, my love for to obtain;
+    That grieved your hearts; I knew as much before.
+    Nay, smile not, nymphs, the truth I only tell,
+    For few can brook that others should excel.
+
+DORIS
+
+    Should I envy that blind did you that spite?
+    Or that your shape doth please so foul a groom?
+    The shepherd thought of milk, you looked so white;
+    The clown did err, and foolish was his doom.
+      Your look was pale, and so his stomach fed;
+      But far from fair, where white doth want his red.
+
+GALATEA
+
+    Though pale my look, yet he my love did crave,
+    And lovely you, unliked, unloved I view;
+    It's better far one base than none to have;
+    Your fair is foul, to whom there's none will sue.
+      My love doth tune his love unto his harp.
+      His shape is rude, but yet his wit is sharp.
+
+DORIS
+
+    Leave off, sweet nymph, to grace a worthless clown.
+    He itched with love, and then did sing or say;
+    The noise was such as all the nymphs did frown,
+    And well suspected that some ass did bray.
+    The woods did chide to hear this ugly sound
+    The prating echo scorned for to repeat;
+    This grisly voice did fear the hollow ground,
+    Whilst artless fingers did his harpstrings beat.
+    Two bear-whelps in his arms this monster bore,
+    With these new puppies did this wanton play;
+    Their skins was rough but yet your loves was more;
+    He fouler was and far more fierce than they.
+    I cannot choose, sweet nymph, to think, but smile
+    That some of us thou fear'st will thee beguile.
+
+GALATEA
+
+    Scorn not my love, until it can be known
+    That you have one that's better of your own.
+
+DORIS
+
+    I have no love, nor if I had, would boast;
+    Yet wooed have been by such as well might speed:
+    But him to love, the shame of all the coast,
+    So ugly foul, as yet I have no need.
+      Now thus we learn what foolish love can do,
+      To think him fair that's foul and ugly too.
+
+    To hear this talk, I sat behind an oak,
+    And marked their words and penned them as they spoke.
+
+
+AD LECTOREM, DISTICHON
+
+CUJUSDAM DE AUTORE
+
+    Lascivi quaeres fuerit cur carminis autor:
+    Carmine lascivus, mente pudicus erat.
+
+
+A LOVER'S MAZE
+
+    True are my thoughts, my thoughts that are untrue,
+    Blind are my eyes, my eyes that are not blind,
+    New is my love, my love that is not new,
+    Kind is that fair, that fair that is not kind.
+      Thus eyes and thoughts, that fairest fair, my love,
+      Blind and untrue, unkind, unconstant prove.
+
+    True are my thoughts because they never flit,
+    Untrue my thoughts because they me betrayed;
+    Blind are my eyes because in clouds I sit,
+    Not blind my eyes because I looks obeyed.
+      Thus eyes and thoughts, my dearest fair may view
+      In sight, in love, not blind, nor yet untrue.
+
+    New is my love because it never dies,
+    Old is my love because it ever lives;
+    Kind is that fair because it hate denies,
+    Unkind that fair because no hope it gives.
+      Thus new my love, and still that fair unkind,
+      Renews my love, and I no favour find.
+
+    Sweet are my dreams, my dreams that are not sweet,
+    Long are the nights, the nights that are not long,
+    Meet are the pangs, these pangs that are unmeet,
+    Wronged is my heart, my heart that hath no wrong.
+      Thus dreams, and night, my heart, my pangs, and all
+      In taste, in length, conspire to work my fall.
+
+    Sweet are my dreams because my love they show,
+    Unsweet my dreams because but dreams they are;
+    Long are the nights because no help I know,
+    Meet are the nights because they end my care.
+      Thus dreams and nights wherein my love take sport,
+      Are sweet, unsweet, are long, and yet too short.
+
+    Meet are my pangs because I was too bold,
+    Unmeet my pangs because I loved so well;
+    Wronged was my heart because my grief it told,
+    Not wronged. For why? My grief it could not tell.
+      Thus you my love unkindly cause this smart,
+      That will not love to ease my pangs and heart.
+
+    Proud is her look, her look that is not proud,
+    Done all my days, my days that are not done,
+    Loud are my sighs, my sighs that are not loud,
+    Begun my death, my death not yet begun.
+      Thus looks and days and sighs and death might move
+      So kind, so fair, to give consent to love.
+
+    Proud is her look because she scorns to see,
+    Not proud her look for none dare say so much;
+    Done are my days because they hapless be,
+    Not done my days because I wish them such.
+      Thus looks and days increase this loving strife.
+      Not proud, nor done, nor dead, nor giving life.
+
+    Loud are my sighs because they pierce the sky,
+    Not loud my sighs because they are not heard;
+    My death begun because I artless cry,
+    But not begun because I am debarred.
+      Thus sighs and death my heart no comfort give;
+      Both life deny, and both do make me live.
+
+    Bold are her smiles, her smiles that are not bold,
+    Wise are her words, those words that are not wise,
+    Cold are her lips, those lips that are not cold,
+    Ice are those hands, those hands that are not ice.
+      Thus smiles and words, her lips, her hands, and she,
+      Bold, wise, cold, ice, love's cruel torments be.
+
+    Bold are her smiles, because they anger slay,
+    Not bold her smiles because they blush so oft;
+    Wise are her words because they wonders say,
+    Not wise her words because they are not soft.
+      Thus smiles and words, so cruel and so bold,
+      So blushing wise, my thoughts in prison hold.
+
+    Cold are her lips because they breathe no heat,
+    Not cold her lips because my heart they burn;
+    Ice are her hands because the snow's so great,
+    Not ice her hands that all to ashes turn.
+      Thus lips and hands cold ice my sorrow brew;
+      Hands, warm white snow and lips cold cherry-red.
+
+    Small was her waist, the waist that was not small,
+    Gold was her hair, the hair that was not gold,
+    Tall was her shape, the shape that was not tall;
+    Folding the arms, the arms that did not fold.
+      Thus hair and shape, those folding arms and waist,
+      Did make me love, and loving made me waste.
+
+    Small was her waist, because I could it span,
+    Not small her waist because she wanted all;
+    Gold was her hair because a crown it wan,
+    Not gold her hair because it was more pale.
+      Thus smallest waist, the greatest waste doth make,
+      And finest hair most fast a lover take.
+
+    Tall was her shape because she touched the sky,
+    Not tall her shape because she comely was;
+    Folding her arms because she hearts could tie,
+    Not folded arms because all bands they pass.
+      Thus shape and arms with love my heart did ply,
+      That hers I am, and must be till I die.
+
+    Sad was her joy, her joy that was not sad,
+    Short was her stay, her stay that was not short,
+    Glad was her speech, her speech that was not glad,
+    Sporting those toys, those toys that were not sport.
+      Thus was my heart with joy, speech, toys and stay,
+      Possessed with love, and so stol'n quite away.
+
+    Sad was her joy because she did respect,
+    Not sad her joy because her joy she had,
+    Short was her stay because to small effect,
+    Long was her stay because I was so sad.
+      Thus joy and stay, both crossed a lover's sport,
+      The one was sad, the other too too short.
+
+    Glad was her speech because she spake her mind,
+    Not glad her speech because afraid to speak;
+    Sporting her toys because my love was kind,
+    Not toys in sport because my heart they break.
+      Thus speech and toys my love began in jest;
+      Sweet, yield to love, and make thy servant blest.
+
+    Tread you the maze, sweet love, that I have run,
+    Mark but the steps which I imprinted have;
+    End but your love whereas my thoughts begun;
+    So shall I joy and you a servant have.
+      If not, sweet love, then this my suit deny;
+      So shall you live, and so your servant die.
+
+
+AN ELEGY
+
+I
+
+    Down in a bed and on a bed of down,
+    Love, she, and I to sleep together lay;
+    She like a wanton kissed me with a frown,
+    Sleep, sleep, she said, but meant to steal away;
+      I could not choose but kiss, but wake, but smile,
+      To see how she thought us two to beguile.
+
+    She feigned a sleep, I waked her with a kiss;
+    A kiss to me she gave to make me sleep;
+    If I did wrong, sweet love, my fault was this,
+    In that I did not you thus waking keep.
+      "Then kiss me, sweet, that so I sleep may take,
+      Or let me kiss to keep you still awake."
+
+    The night drew on and needs she must be gone;
+    She waked Love, and bid him learn to wait;
+    She sighed, she said, to leave me there alone,
+    And bid Love stay but practise no deceit.
+      Love wept for grief, and sighing made great moan,
+      And could not sleep nor stay if she were gone.
+
+    "Then stay, sweet love;" a kiss with that I gave;
+    She could not stay, but gave my kiss again;
+    A kiss was all that I could get or crave,
+    And with a kiss she bound me to remain.
+      "Ah Licia," still I in my dreams did cry,
+      "Come, Licia, come, or else my heart will die."
+
+
+II
+
+    Distance of place my love and me did part,
+    Yet both did swear we never would remove;
+    In sign thereof I bid her take my heart,
+    Which did, and doth, and can not choose but love.
+      Thus did we part in hope to meet again,
+      Where both did vow most constant to remain.
+
+    A she there was that passed betwixt us both,
+    By whom each knew how other's cause did fare;
+    For men to trust men in their love are loth;
+    Thus had we both of love a lover's care.
+      Haply he seeks his sorrows to renew,
+      That for his love doth make another sue.
+
+    By her a kiss, a kiss to me she sent.
+    A kiss for price more worth than purest gold.
+    She gave it her, to me the kiss was meant;
+    A she to kiss, what harm if she were bold?
+      Happy those lips that had so sweet a kiss,
+      For heaven itself scarce yields so sweet a bliss!
+
+    This modest she, blushing for shame of this,
+    Or loth to part from that she liked so well,
+    Did play false play, and gave me not the kiss;
+    Yet my love's kindness could not choose to tell.
+      Then blame me not, that kissing sighed and swore
+      I kissed but her whom you had kissed before.
+
+    Sweet, love me more, and blame me not, sweet love;
+    I kissed those lips, yet harmless I do vow;
+    Scarce would my lips from off those lips remove,
+    For still methought, sweet fair, I kissed you.
+      And thus, kind love, the sum of all my bliss
+      Was but begun and ended in a kiss.
+
+    Then send me more, but send them by your friend;
+    Kiss none but her, nor her, nor none at all.
+    Beware by whom such treasures you do send,
+    I must them lose except I for them call.
+      And love me, dear, and still still kissing be;
+      Both like and love, but none, sweet love, but me.
+
+
+III
+
+    If sad complaint would show a lover's pain,
+    Or tears express the torments of my heart,
+    If melting sighs would ruth and pity gain,
+    Or true laments but ease a lover's smart;
+
+    Then should my plaints the thunder's noise surmount,
+    And tears like seas should flow from out my eyes;
+    Then sighs like air should far exceed all count,
+    And true laments with sorrow dim the skies.
+
+    But plaints and tears, laments and sighs I spend,
+    Yet greater torments do my heart destroy;
+    I could all these from out my heart still send,
+    If after these I might my love enjoy.
+
+    But heavens conspire, and heavens I must obey,
+    That seeking love I still must want my ease;
+    For greatest joys are tempered with delay,
+    Things soon obtained do least of all us please.
+
+    My thoughts repine and think the time too long,
+    My love impatient wisheth to obtain;
+    I blame the heavens that do me all this wrong
+    To make me loved and will not ease my pain.
+
+    No pain like this, to love and not enjoy;
+    No grief like this, to mourn and not be heard;
+    No time so long as that which breeds annoy;
+    No hell like this, to love and be deferred!
+
+    But heaven shall stand and earth inconstant fly,
+    The sun shall freeze and ice inconstant burn,
+    The mountains flow and all the earth be dry,
+    Ere time shall force my loving thoughts to turn.
+
+    Do you resolve, sweet love, to do the same,
+    Say that you do, and seal it with a kiss.
+    Then shall our truths the heavens' unkindness blame
+    That can not hurt yet show their spite in this.
+
+    The silly 'prentice bound for many years,
+    Doth hope that time his service will release;
+    The town beseiged that lives in midst of fears,
+    Doth hope in time the cruel wars will cease.
+
+    The toiling plough-man sings in hope to reap,
+    The tossed bark expecteth for a shore;
+    The boy at school to be at play doth leap,
+    And straight forgets the fear he had before.
+
+    If those by hope do joy in their distress,
+    And constant are in hope to conquer time,
+    Then let not hope in us, sweet friend, be less,
+    And cause our love to wither in the prime.
+
+    Let me conspire and time will have an end,
+    So both of us in time shall have a friend.
+
+
+FINIS.
+
+
+Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO., London & Edinburgh.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles, by
+Thomas Lodge and Giles Fletcher
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIZABETHAN SONNET CYCLES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 18841.txt or 18841.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/4/18841/
+
+Produced by David Starner, Taavi Kalju and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+