Urre, Runs Vp And Downe, To Make All Folkes Prest At Thy Will Thy Paine To Swage; Nature With Care Sweates For Hir Darlings Sake, Knowing Worlds Passe, Ere She Enough Can Finde, Of Such Heauen-Stuffe To Cloath So Heau'Nly Minde. Sonnet Cii Where Be Those Roses Gone, Which Sweetned So Our Eyes? Where Those Red Cheeks, Which Oft, With Faire Encrease, Did Frame The Height Of Honour In The Kindly Badge Of Shame? Who Hath The Crimson Weeds Stolne From My Morning Skies? How Doth The Colour Vade Of Those Vermilion Dies, Which Nature Self Did Make, And Self-Ingrain'D The Same? I Would Know By What Right This Palenesse Ouercame That Hue Whose Force My Hart Still Vnto Thraldome Ties? Galens Adoptiue Sonnes, Who By A Beaten Way Their Iudgements Hackney On, The Fault Of Sicknesse Lay; But Feeling Proofe Makes Me Say They Mistake It Furre: It Is But Loue Which Makes This Paper Perfit White, To Write Therein More Fresh The Storie Of Delight, Whiles Beauties Reddest Inke Venus For Him Doth Sturre. Sonnet Ciii O Happie Thames, That Didst My Stella Beare! I Saw Thee With Full Many A Smiling Line Vpon Thy Cheerefull Face, Ioyes Liuery Weare, While Those Faire Planets On Thy Streames Did Shine. The Boate For Ioy Could Not To Daunce Forbear, While Wanton Winds, With Beauties So Diuine Ravisht, Staid Not, Till In Her Golden Haire They Did Themselues (O Sweetest Prison) Twine. And Faine Those ?Ols Youth There Would Their Stay Haue Made, But Forst By Nature Still To Flie, First Did With Puffing Kisse Those Lockes Display: She, So Disheuld Blusht: From Window I With Sight Thereof Cride Out, O Faire Disgrace, Let Honor Selfe To Thee Grant Highest Place. Sonnet Civ Enuious Wits, What Hath Bene Mine Offence, That With Such Poysonous Care My Lookes You Marke, That To Each Word, Nay Sigh Of Mine, You Harke, As Grudging Me My Sorrowes Eloquence? Ah, Is It Not Enough, That I Am Thence, Thence, So Farre Thence, That Scantly Any Sparke Of Comfort Dare Come To This Dungeon Darke, Where Rigours Exile Lockes Vp Al My Sense? But If I By A Happie Window Passe, If I But Stars Vppon Mine Armour Beare; Sicke, Thirsty, Glad (Though But Of Empty Glasse): Your Morall Notes Straight My Hid Meaning Teare From Out My Ribs, And, Puffing, Proues That I Doe Stella Loue: Fooles, Who Doth It Deny? Sonnet Cv Vnhappie Sight, And Hath Shee Vanisht By So Nere, In So Good Time, So Free A Place! Dead Glasse, Dost Thou Thy Obiect So Imbrace, As What My Hart Still Sees Thou Canst Not Spie! I Sweare By Her I Loue And Lacke, That I Was Not In Fault, Who Bent Thy Dazling Race Onely Vnto The Heau'N Of Stellas Face, Counting But Dust What In The Way Did Lie. But Cease, Mine Eyes, Your Teares Do Witnesse Well That You, Guiltlesse Thereof, Your Nectar Mist: Curst Be The Page From Whome The Bad Torch Fell: Curst Be The Night Which Did Your Strife Resist: Curst Be The Coachman That Did Driue So Fast, With No Lesse Curse Then Absence Makes Me Tast. Sonnet Cvi O Absent Presence! Stella Is Not Here; False-Flatt'Ring Hope, That With So Faire A Face Bare Me In Hand, That In This Orphane Place, Stella, I Say My Stella, Should Appeare: What Saist Thou Now? Where Is That Dainty Cheere Thou Toldst Mine Eyes Should Helpe Their Famisht Case? But Thou Art Gone, Now That Selfe-Felt Disgrace Doth Make Me Most To Wish Thy Comfort Neer. But Heere I Do Store Of Faire Ladies Meet, Who May With Charme Of Conuersation Sweete, Make In My Heauy Mould New Thoughts To Grow. Sure They Preuaile As Much With Me, As He That Bad His Friend, But Then New Maim'D To Be Mery With Him, And So Forget His Woe. Sonnet Cvii Stella, Since Thou So Right A Princesse Art Of All The Powers Which Life Bestowes On Me, That Ere By Them Ought Vndertaken Be, They First Resort Vnto That Soueraigne Part; Sweete, For A While Giue Thy Lieutenancie To This Great Cause, Which Needes Both Use And Art. And As A Queene, Who From Her Presence Sends Whom She Employes, Dismisse From Thee My Wit, Till It Haue Wrought What Thy Owne Will Attends. On Seruants Shame Oft Maisters Blame Doth Sit: O Let Not Fooles In Me Thy Workes Reproue, And Scorning Say, See What It Is To Loue! Sonnet Cviii When Sorrow (Vsing Mine Owne Fiers Might) Melts Downe His Lead Into My Boyling Brest Through That Darke Furnace To My Hart Opprest, There Shines A Ioy From Thee My Only Light: But Soone As Thought Of Thee Breeds My Delight, And My Yong Soule Flutters To Thee His Nest, Most Rude Despaire, My Daily Vnbidden Guest, Clips Streight My Wings, Streight Wraps Me In His Night, And Makes Me Then Bow Downe My Heade, And Say, Ah, What Doth Phoebus Gold That Wretch Auaile Whom Iron Doores Doe Keepe From Vse Of Day? So Strangely (Alas) Thy Works On Me Preuaile, That In My Woes For Thee Thou Art My Ioy, And In My Ioyes For Thee My Onely Annoy. The Following Two Sonnets Were Added By Grosart As Having Been Intended For The Sonnet Cycle, Though They Did Not Appear Here In The Early Editions: Sonnet Cix Thou Blind Mans Marke, Thou Fooles Selfe-Chosen Snare, Fond Fancies Scum, And Dregs Of Scatter'D Thought: Band Of All Euils, Cradle Of Causelesse Care; Thou Web Of Will, Whose End Is Neuer Wrought: Desire! Desire! I Haue Too Dearly Bought, With Prise Of Mangled Mind, Thy Worthlesse Ware; Too Long, Too Long, Asleepe Thou Hast Me Brought, Who Shouldst My Mind To Higher Things Prepare. But Yet In Vaine Thou Hast My Ruine Sought; In Vaine Thou Madest Me To Vaine Things Aspire; In Vaine Thou Kindlest All Thy Smokie Fire; For Vertue Hath This Better Lesson Taught,-- Within My Selfe To Seeke My Onelie Hire, Desiring Nought But How To Kill Desire. Sonnet Cx Leaue, Me, O Loue Which Reachest But To Dust, And Thou, My Mind, Aspire To Higher Things. Grow Rich In That Which Neuer Taketh Rust; Whateuer Fades, But Fading Pleasure Brings. Draw In Thy Beames, And Humble All Thy Might To That Sweet Yoke Where Lasting Freedomes Be; Which Breakes The Clowdes, And Opens Forth The Light, That Doth Both Shine And Giue Us Sight To See. O Take Fast Hold; Let That Light Be Thy Guide In This Small Course Which Birth Drawes Out To Death, And Thinke How Euill Becommeth Him To Slide, Who Seeketh Heau'N, And Comes Of Heau'Nly Breath. Then Farewell World; Thy Vttermost I See: Eternall Loue, Maintaine Thy Life In Me. Spendidis Longum Valedico Nugis. Songs First Song. Doubt You To Whom My Muse These Notes Entendeth, Which Now My Breast, Surcharg'D, To Musick Lendeth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Only In You My Song Begins And Endeth. Who Hath The Eyes Which Marrie State With Pleasure! Who Keeps The Key Of Natures Cheifest Treasure! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Only For You The Heau'N Forgate All Measure. Who Hath The Lips, Where Wit In Fairnesse Raigneth! Who Womankind At Once Both Deckes And Stayneth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Onely By You Cupid His Crowne Maintaineth. Who Hath The Feet, Whose Step All Sweetnesse Planteth! Who Else, For Whom Fame Worthy Trumpets Wanteth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Onely To You Her Scepter Venus Granteth. Who Hath The Breast, Whose Milk Doth Patience Nourish! Whose Grace Is Such, That When It Chides Doth Cherish! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Onelie Through You The Tree Of Life Doth Flourish. Who Hath The Hand Which, Without Stroke, Subdueth! Who Long-Dead Beautie With Increase Reneueth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Onely At You All Enuie Hopelesse Rueth. Who Hath The Haire, Which, Loosest, Fastest Tieth! Who Makes A Man Liue, Then Glad When He Dieth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Only Of You The Flatterer Neuer Lieth. Who Hath The Voyce, Which Soule From Sences Thunders! Whose Force, But Yours, The Bolts Of Beautie Thunders! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due, Only With You Not Miracles Are Wonders. Doubt You, To Whome My Muse These Notes Intendeth, Which Now My Breast, Oercharg'D, To Musicke Lendeth! To You, To You, All Song Of Praise Is Due: Only In You My Song Begins And Endeth. Second Song. Haue I Caught My Heau'Nly Iewell, Teaching Sleepe Most Faire To Be! Now Will I Teach Her That She, When She Wakes, Is Too-Too Cruell. Since Sweet Sleep Her Eyes Hath Charmed, The Two Only Darts Of Loue, Now Will I, With That Boy, Proue, Some Play, While He Is Disamed. Her Tongue, Waking, Still Refuseth, Giuing Frankly Niggard No: Now Will I Attempt To Know What No Her Tongue, Sleeping, Vseth. See The Hand That, Waking, Gardeth, Sleeping, Grants A Free Resort: Now I Will Inuade The Fort, Cowards Loue With Losse Rewardeth. But, O Foole, Thinke Of The Danger Of Her Iust And High Disdaine; Now Will I, Alas, Refraine; Loue Feares Nothing Else But Anger. Yet Those Lips, So Sweetly Swelling, Do Inuite A Stealing Kisse. Now Will I But Venture This; Who Will Reade, Must First Learne Spelling. Oh, Sweet Kisse! But Ah, Shes Waking! Lowring Beautie Chastens Me: Now Will I For Feare Hence Flee; Foole, More Foole For No More Taking. Third Song. If Orpheus Voyce Had Force To Breathe Such Musickes Loue Through Pores Of Senceles Trees, As It Could Make Them Moue; If Stones Good Measure Daunc'D, The Theban Walles To Build To Cadence Of The Tunes Which Amphions Lyre Did Yeeld; More Cause A Like Effect At Least-Wise Bringeth: O Stones, O Trees, Learne Hearing,--Stella Singeth. If Loue Might Sweeten So A Boy Of Shepheard Brood, To Make A Lyzard Dull, To Taste Loues Dainty Food; If Eagle Fierce Could So In Grecian Mayde Delight, As Her Eyes Were His Light, Her Death His Endlesse Night, Earth Gaue That Loue; Heau'N, I Trow, Loue Refineth, O Birds, O Beasts, Looke Loue (Lo) Stella Shineth. The Beasts, Birds, Stones, And Trees Feele This, And, Feeling, Loue; And If The Trees Nor Stones Stirre Not The Same To Proue, Nor Beasts Nor Birds Do Come Vnto This Blessed Gaze, Know That Small Loue Is Quicke, And Great Loue Doth Amaze; They Are Amaz'D, But You With Reason Armed, O Eyes, O Eares Of Men, How You Are Charmed! Fourth Song. Onely Ioy, Now Here You Are, Fit To Heare And Ease My Care, Let My Whispering Voyce Obtaine Sweete Reward For Sharpest Paine; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Night Hath Closde All In Her Cloke, Twinkling Starres Loue-Thoughts Prouoke, Danger Hence, Good Care Doth Keepe, Iealouzie Hemselfe Doth Sleepe; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Better Place No Wit Can Finde, Cupids Knot To Loose Or Binde; These Sweet Flowers Our Fine Bed Too, Vs In Their Best Language Woo: Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. This Small Light The Moone Bestowes Serues Thy Beames But To Disclose; So To Raise My Hap More Hie, Feare Not Else, None Vs Can Spie; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. That You Heard Was But A Mouse, Dumbe Sleepe Holdeth All The House: Yet Asleepe, Me Thinkes They Say, Yong Fooles Take Time While You May; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Niggard Time Threates, If We Misse This Large Offer Of Our Blisse, Long Stay, Ere He Graunt The Same: Sweet, Then, While Ech Thing Doth Frame, Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Your Faire Mother Is Abed, Candles Out And Curtaines Spred; She Thinkes You Do Letters Write; Write, But First Let Me Endite; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Sweete, Alas, Why Striue You Thus? Concord Better Fitteth Vs; Leaue To Mars The Force Of Hands, Your Power In Your Beautie Stands; Take Me To Thee, And Thee To Mee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Wo To Mee, And Do You Sweare Me To Hate, But I Forbeare? Cursed Be My Destines All, That Brought Me So High To Fall; Soone With My Death I Will Please Thee: No, No, No, No, My Deare, Let Bee. Fift Song. While Fauour Fed My Hope, Delight With Hope Was Brought, Thought Waited On Delight, And Speech Did Follow Thought; Then Grew My Tongue And Pen Records Vnto Thy Glory, I Thought All Words Were Lost That Were Not Spent Of Thee, I Thought Each Place Was Darke But Where Thy Lights Would Be, And All Eares Worse Than Deaf That Heard Not Out Thy Storie. I Said Thou Wert Most Faire, And So Indeed Thou Art; I Said Thou Wert Most Sweet, Sweet Poison To My Heart; I Said My Soule Was Thine, O That I Then Had Lyed; I Said Thine Eyes Were Starres, Thy Breast The Milken Way, Thy Fingers Cupids Shafts, Thy Voyce The Angels Lay: And All I Said So Well, As No Man It Denied. But Now That Hope Is Lost, Vnkindnesse Kils Delight; Yet Thought And Speech Do Liue, Though Metamorphos'D Quite, For Rage Now Rules The Raines Which Guided Were By Pleasure; I Thinke Now Of Thy Faults, Who Late Thought Of Thy Praise, That Speech Falles Now To Blame, Which Did Thy Honour Raise, The Same Key Open Can, Which Can Lock Vp A Treasure. Then Thou, Whom Partiall Heauens Conspird In One To Frame The Proofe Of Beauties Worth, Th'Inheritrix Of Fame, The Mansion Seat Of Blisse, And Iust Excuse Of Louers; See Now Those Feathers Pluckt, Wherewith Thou Flew'St Most High: See What Cloudes Of Reproach Shall Dark Thy Honours Skie: Whose Owne Fault Cast Him Downe Hardly High State Recouers. And, O My Muse, Though Oft You Luld Her In Your Lap, And Then A Heau'Nly Child, Gaue Her Ambrosian Pap, And To That Braine Of Hers Your Kindest Gifts Infused; Since She, Disdaining Me, Doth You In Me Disdaine, Suffer Not Her To Laugh, While Both We Suffer Paine. Princes In Subiects Wrong Must Deeme Themselues Abused. Your Client, Poore My Selfe, Shall Stella Handle So! Reuenge! Revenge! My Muse! Defiance Trumpet Blow; Threaten What May Be Done, Yet Do More Then You Threaten; Ah, My Sute Granted Is, I Feele My Breast Doth Swell; No, Child, A Lesson New You Shall Begin To Spell, Sweet Babes Must Babies Haue, But Shrewd Gyrles Must Be Beaten. Thinke Now No More To Heare Of Warme Fine-Odour'D Snow, Nor Blushing Lillies, Nor Pearles Ruby-Hidden Row, Nor Of That Golden Sea, Whose Waues In Curles Are Broken, But Of Thy Soule, So Fraught With Such Vngratefulnesse, As Where Thou Soone Might'St Helpe, Most Faith Dost Most Oppresse; Vngratefull, Who Is Cald, The Worst Of Euils Is Spoken, Yet Worse Then Worst, I Say Thou Art A Theefe, A Theefe! Now God Forbid! A Theefe! And Of Wurst Theeues The Cheefe: Theeues Steal For Need, And Steale But Goods Which Paine Recouers, But Thou, Rich In All Ioyes, Dost Rob My Ioyes From Me, Which Cannot Be Restord By Time Or Industrie: Of Foes The Spoyle Is Euill, Far Worse Of Constant Louers. Yet--Gentle English Theeues Do Rob, But Will Not Slay, Thou English Murdring Theefe, Wilt Haue Harts For Thy Prey: The Name Of Murdrer Now On Thy Faire Forehead Sitteth, And Euen While I Do Speake, My Death Wounds Bleeding Be, Which, I Protest, Proceed From Only Cruell Thee: Who May, And Will Not Saue, Murder In Truth Committeth. But Murder, Priuate Fault, Seemes But A Toy To Thee: I Lay Then To Thy Charge Vniustest Tyrannie, If Rule By Force, Without All Claim, A Tyran Showeth; For Thou Dost Lord My Heart, Who Am Not Borne Thy Slaue, And, Which Is Worse, Makes Me, Most Guiltlesse, Torments Haue: A Rightfull Prince By Vnright Deeds A Tyran Groweth. Lo, You Grow Proud With This, For Tyrans Make Folke Bow: Of Foule Rebellion Then I Do Appeach Thee Now, Rebell By Natures Law, Rebell By Law Of Reason: Thou, Sweetest Subiect Wert, Borne In The Realme Of Loue, And Yet Against Thy Prince Thy Force Dost Daily Proue: No Vertue Merits Praise, Once Toucht With Blot Of Treason. But Valiant Rebels Oft In Fooles Mouths Purchase Fame: I Now Then Staine Thy White With Vagabonding Shame, Both Rebell To The Sonne And Vagrant From The Mother; For Wearing Venus Badge In Euery Part Of Thee, Vnto Dianaes Traine Thou, Runnaway, Didst Flie: Who Faileth One Is False, Though Trusty To Another. What, Is Not This Enough! Nay, Farre Worse Commeth Here; A Witch, I Say, Thou Art, Though Thou So Faire Appeare; For, I Protest, My Sight Neuer Thy Face Enioyeth, But I In Me Am Chang'D, I Am Aliue And Dead, My Feete Are Turn'D To Rootes, My Hart Becommeth Lead: No Witchcraft Is So Euill As Which Mans Mind Destroyeth. Yet Witches May Repent; Thou Art Farre Worse Then They: Alas That I Am Forst Such Euill Of Thee To Say: I Say Thou Art A Diuell, Though Cloth'D In Angels Shining; For Thy Face Tempts My Soule To Leaue The Heauens For Thee, And Thy Words Of Refuse Do Powre Euen Hell On Mee: Who Tempt, And Tempting Plague, Are Diuels In True Defining. You, Then, Vngrateful Theefe, You Murdring Tyran, You, You Rebell Runaway, To Lord And Lady Vntrue, You Witch, You Diuell (Alas) You Still Of Me Beloued, You See What I Can Say; Mend Yet Your Froward Mind, And Such Skill In My Muse, You, Reconcil'D, Shall Find, That All These Cruell Words Your Praises Shalbe Proued. Sixt Song. O You That Heare This Voice, O You That See This Face, Say Whether Of The Choice Deserues The Former Place: Feare Not To Iudge This Bate, For It Is Void Of Hate. This Side Doth Beauty Take. For That Doth Musike Speake; Fit Oratours To Make The Strongest Iudgements Weake: The Barre To Plead Their Right Is Only True Delight. Thus Doth The Voice And Face, These Gentle Lawiers, Wage, Like Louing Brothers Case, For Fathers Heritage; That Each, While Each Contends, It Selfe To Other Lends. For Beautie Beautifies With Heau'Nly Hew And Grace The Heau'Nly Harmonies; And In This Faultlesse Face The Perfect Beauties Be A Perfect Harmony. Musick More Loftly Swels In Speeches Nobly Plac'D; Beauty As Farre Excels, In Action Aptly Grac'D: A Friend Each Party Draws To Countenance His Cause. Loue More Affected Seemes To Beauties Louely Light; And Wonder More Esteemes Of Musickes Wondrous Might; But Both To Both So Bent, As Both In Both Are Spent. Musicke Doth Witnesse Call The Eare His Truth To Trie; Beauty Brings To The Hall Eye-Iudgement Of The Eye: Both In Their Obiects Such, As No Exceptions Tutch. The Common Sense, Which Might Be Arbiter Of This, To Be, Forsooth, Vpright, To Both Sides Partiall Is; He Layes On This Chiefe Praise, Chiefe Praise On That He Laies. Then Reason, Princesse Hy, Whose Throne Is In The Minde, Which Musicke Can In Sky And Hidden Beauties Finde, Say Whether Thou Wilt Crowne With Limitlesse Renowne? Seuenth Song. Whose Senses In So Euill Consort Their Stepdame Nature Laies, That Rauishing Delight In Them Most Sweete Tunes Do Not Raise; Or If They Do Delight Therein, Yet Are So Closde With Wit, As With Ententious Lips To Set A Title Vaine On It; O Let Them Heare These Sacred Tunes, And Learne In Wonders Scholes, To Be, In Things Past Bounds Of Wit, Fooles: If They Be Not Fooles. Who Haue So Leaden Eyes, As Not To See Sweet Beauties Show, Or, Seeing, Haue So Wooden Wits, As Not That Worth To Know, Or, Knowing, Haue So Muddy Minds, As Not To Be In Loue, Or, Louing, Haue So Frothy Thoughts, As Eas'Ly Thence To Moue; O Let Them See These Heau'Nly Beames, And In Faire Letters Reede A Lesson Fit, Both Sight And Skill, Loue And Firme Loue To Breede. Heare Then, But Then With Wonder Heare, See, But Adoring, See, No Mortall Gifts, No Earthly Fruites, Now Here Descended Be: See, Doo You See This Face? A Face, Nay, Image Of The Skies, Of Which The Two Life-Giuing Lights Are Figur'D In Her Eyes: Heare You This Soule-Inuading Voice, And Count It But A Voice? The Very Essence Of Their Tunes, When Angels Do Reioyce. Eight Song. In A Groue Most Rich Of Shade, Where Birds Wanton Musicke Made, Maie, Then Yong, His Pide Weedes Showing, New-Perfum'D With Flowers Fresh Growing: Astrophel With Stella Sweet Did For Mutual Comfort Meete, Both Within Themselues Oppressed, But Each In The Other Blessed. Him Great Harmes Had Taught Much Care, Her Faire Necke A Foule Yoke Bare; But Her Sight His Cares Did Banish, In His Sight Her Yoke Did Vanish: Wept They Had, Alas, The While, But Now Teares Themselues Did Smile, While Their Eyes, By Loue Directed, Enterchangeably Reflected. Sigh They Did; But Now Betwixt Sighes Of Woe Were Glad Sighes Mixt; With Arms Crost, Yet Testifying Restlesse Rest, And Liuing Dying. Their Eares Hungrie Of Each Word Which The Deare Tongue Would Afford; But Their Tongues Restrain'D From Walking, Till Their Harts Had Ended Talking. But When Their Tongues Could Not Speake, Loue It Selfe Did Silence Breake; Loue Did Set His Lips Asunder, Thus To Speake In Loue And Wonder. Stella, Soueraigne Of My Ioy, Faire Triumpher Of Annoy; Stella, Starre Of Heauenly Fier, Stella, Loadstar Of Desier; Stella, In Whose Shining Eyes Are The Lights Of Cupids Skies, Whose Beames, Where They Once Are Darted, Loue Therewith Is Streight Imparted; Stella, Whose Voice When It Speakes Senses All Asunder Breakes; Stella, Whose Voice, When It Singeth, Angels To Acquaintance Bringeth; Stella, In Whose Body Is Writ Each Caracter Of Blisse; Whose Face All, All Beauty Passeth, Saue Thy Mind, Which It Surpasseth. Graunt, O Graunt; But Speach, Alas, Failes Me, Fearing On To Passe: Graunt, O Me: What Am I Saying? But No Fault There Is In Praying. Graunt (O Deere) On Knees I Pray, (Knees On Ground He Then Did Stay) That, Not I, But Since I Loue You, Time And Place For Me May Moue You. Neuer Season Was More Fit; Never Roome More Apt For It; Smiling Ayre Allowes My Reason; These Birds Sing, Now Vse The Season. This Small Wind, Which So Sweete Is, See How It The Leaues Doth Kisse; Each Tree In His Best Attiring, Sense Of Loue To Loue Inspiring. Loue Makes Earth The Water Drink, Loue To Earth Makes Water Sinke; And, If Dumbe Things Be So Witty, Shall A Heauenly Grace Want Pitty? There His Hands, In Their Speech, Faine Would Haue Made Tongues Language Plaine; But Her Hands, His Hands Repelling, Gaue Repulse All Grace Expelling. Then She Spake; Her Speech Was Such, So Not Eares, But Hart Did Tuch: While Such-Wise She Loue Denied, And Yet Loue She Signified. Astrophel, Sayd She, My Loue, Cease, In These Effects, To Proue; Now Be Still, Yet Still Beleeue Me, Thy Griefe More Then Death Would Grieue Me. If That Any Thought In Me Can Tast Comfort But Of Thee, Let Me, Fed With Hellish Anguish, Ioylesse, Hopelesse, Endlesse Languish. If Those Eyes You Praised Be Halfe So Deare As You To Me, Let Me Home Returne, Starke Blinded Of Those Eyes, And Blinder Minded; If To Secret Of My Hart, I Do Any Wish Impart, Where Thou Art Not Formost Placed, Be Both Wish And I Defaced. If More May Be Sayd, I Say, All My Blisse In Thee I Lay; If Thou Loue, My Loue, Content Thee, For All Loue, All Faith Is Meant Thee. Trust Me, While I Thee Deny, In My Selfe The Smart I Try; Tyran Honour Doth Thus Vse Thee, Stellas Selfe Might Not Refuse Thee. Therefore, Deare, This No More Moue, Least, Though I Leaue Not Thy Loue, Which Too Deep In Me Is Framed, I Should Blush When Thou Art Named. Therewithall Away She Went, Leauing Him To Passion Rent, With What She Had Done And Spoken, That Therewith My Song Is Broken. Ninth Song. Go, My Flocke, Go, Get You Hence, Seeke A Better Place Of Feeding, Where You May Haue Some Defence Fro The Stormes In My Breast Breeding, And Showers From Mine Eyes Proceeding. Leaue A Wretch, In Whom All Wo Can Abide To Keepe No Measure; Merry Flocke, Such One Forego, Vnto Whom Mirth Is Displeasure, Onely Rich In Mischiefs Treasure. Yet, Alas, Before You Go, Heare Your Wofull Maisters Story, Which To Stones I Els Would Show: Sorrow Only Then Hath Glory When 'Tis Excellently Sorry. Stella, Fiercest Shepherdesse, Fiercest, But Yet Fairest Euer; Stella, Whom, O Heauens Still Blesse, Though Against Me She Perseuer, Though I Blisse Enherit Neuer: Stella Hath Refused Me! Stella, Who More Loue Hath Proued, In This Caitife Heart To Be, Then Can In Good Eawes Be Moued Toward Lambkins Best Beloued. Stella Hath Refused Me! Astrophell, That So Well Served In This Pleasant Spring Must See, While In Pride Flowers Be Preserued, Himselfe Onely Winter-Sterued. Why (Alas) Doth She Then Sweare That She Loueth Me So Dearely, Seeing Me So Long To Beare Coles Of Loue That Burne So Cleerly, And Yet Leaue Me Helplesse Meerely? Is That Loue? Forsooth, I Trow, If I Saw My Good Dog Grieued, And A Helpe For Him Did Know, My Loue Should Not Be Beleeued, But He Were By Me Releeued. No, She Hates Me, Well-Away, Faining Loue, Somewhat To Please Me: For She Knows, If She Display All Her Hate, Death Soone Would Seaze Me, And Of Hideous Torments Ease Me. Then Adieu, Deare Flocke, Adieu; But, Alas, If In Your Straying Heauenly Stella Meete With You, Tell Her, In Your Pitious Blaying, Her Poore Slaues Vniust Decaying. Tenth Song. O Deare Life, When Shall It Bee That Mine Eyes Thine Eyes Shall See, And In Them Thy Mind Discouer Whether Absence Haue Had Force Thy Remembrance To Diuorce From The Image Of Thy Louer? Or If I My Self Find Not, After Parting Aught Forgot, Nor Debar'D From Beauties Treasure, Let Not Tongue Aspire To Tell In What High Ioyes I Shall Dwell; Only Thought Aymes At The Pleasure. Thought, Therefore, I Will Send Thee To Take Vp The Place For Me: Long I Will Not After Tary, There Vnseene, Thou Mayst Be Bold, Those Faire Wonders To Behold, Which In Them My Hopes Do Cary. Thought, See Thou No Place Forbeare, Enter Brauely Euerywhere, Seize On All To Her Belonging; But If Thou Wouldst Garded Be, Fearing Her Beames, Take With Thee Strength Of Liking, Rage Of Longing. Thinke Of That Most Gratefull Time When My Leaping Heart Will Climb, In Thy Lips To Haue His Biding, There Those Roses For To Kisse, Which Do Breathe A Sugred Blisse, Opening Rubies, Pearles Diuiding. Thinke Of My Most Princely Pow'R, Which I Blessed Shall Deuow'R With My Greedy Licorous Sences, Beauty, Musicke, Sweetnesse, Loue, While She Doth Against Me Proue Her Strong Darts But Weake Defences. Thinke, Thinke Of Those Dalyings, When With Doue-Like Murmurings, With Glad Moning, Passed Anguish, We Change Eyes, And Hart For Hart, Each To Other Do Depart, Ioying Till Ioy Makes Vs Languish. O My Thoughts, My Thoughts Surcease, Thy Delights My Woes Increse, My Life Melts With Too Much Thinking; Thinke No More, But Die In Me, Till Thou Shalt Reuiued Be, At Her Lips My Nectar Drinking. Eleuenth Song. Who Is It That This Darke Night Vnderneath My Window Playneth? It Is One Who From Thy Sight Being, Ah Exil'D, Disdayneth Euery Other Vulgar Light. Why, Alas, And Are You He? Be Not Yet Those Fancies Changed? Deare, When You Find Change In Me, Though From Me You Be Estranged, Let My Chaunge To Ruin Be. Well, In Absence This Will Dy; Leaue To See, And Leaue To Wonder. Absence Sure Will Helpe, If I Can Learne How My Selfe To Sunder From What In My Hart Doth Ly. But Time Will These Thoughts Remoue; Time Doth Work What No Man Knoweth. Time Doth As The Subiect Proue; With Time Still The Affection Groweth In The Faithful Turtle-Doue. What If We New Beauties See, Will They Not Stir New Affection? I Will Thinke They Pictures Be, (Image-Like, Of Saints Perfection) Poorely Counterfeting Thee. But Your Reasons Purest Light Bids You Leaue Such Minds To Nourish. Deere, Do Reason No Such Spite; Neuer Doth Thy Beauty Florish More Then In My Reasons Sight. But The Wrongs Loue Beares Will Make Loue At Length Leaue Vndertaking. No, The More Fooles It Doth Shake, In A Ground Of So Firme Making Deeper Still They Driue The Stake. Peace, I Thinke That Some Giue Eare; Come No More, Least I Get Anger. Blisse, I Will My Blisse Forbeare; Fearing, Sweete, You To Endanger; But My Soule Shall Harbour There. Well, Be Gone; Be Gone, I Say, Lest That Argus Eyes Perceiue You. O Vniust Is Fortunes Sway, Which Can Make Me Thus To Leaue You, And From Lowts To Run Away.