The Shorter Poems Read online

  10

  The bloud of Martyrs dere were hir delite.

  Most fierce and fell this woman seemde to me.

  An Angell then descending downe from Heauen,

  With thondring voice cride out aloude, and sayd,

  Now for a truth great Babylon is fallen.

  [14]

  Then might I see vpon a white horse set

  The faithfull man with flaming countenaunce,

  His head did shine with crounes set therupon.

  The worde of God made him a noble name.

  5

  His precious robe I saw embrued with bloud.

  Then saw I from the heauen on horses white,

  A puissant armie come the selfe same way.

  Then cried a shining Angell as me thought,

  That birdes from aire descending downe on earth

  10

  Should warre vpon the kings, and eate their flesh.

  Then did I see the beast and Kings also

  Ioinyng their force to slea the faithfull man.

  But this fierce hatefull beast and all hir traine,

  Is pitilesse throwne downe in pit of fire.

  [15]

  I saw new Earth, new Heauen, sayde Saint Iohn.

  And loe, the sea (quod he) is now no more.

  The holy Citie of the Lorde, from hye

  Descendeth garnisht as a loued spouse.

  5

  A voice then sayde, beholde the bright abode

  Of God and men. For he shall be their God,

  And all their teares he shall wipe cleane away.

  Hir brightnesse greater was than can be founde,

  Square was this Citie, and twelue gates it had.

  10

  Eche gate was of an orient perfect pearle,

  The houses golde, the pauement precious stone.

  A liuely streame, more cleere than Christall is,

  Ranne through the mid, sprong from triumphant seat.

  There growes lifes fruite vnto the Churches good.

  TO HIS BOOKE.

  Goe little booke: thy selfe present,

  As child whose parent is vnkent:

  To him that is the president

  Of noblesse and of cheualree,

  5

  And if that Enuie barke at thee,

  As sure it will, for succoure flee

  Vnder the shadow of his wing,

  And asked, who thee forth did bring,

  A shepheards swaine saye did thee sing,

  10

  All as his straying flocke he fedde:

  And when his honor has thee redde,

  Craue pardon for my hardyhedde.

  But if that any aske thy name,

  Say thou wert base begot with blame:

  15

  For thy thereof thou takest shame.

  And when thou art past ieopardee,

  Come tell me, what was sayd of mee:

  And I will send more after thee.

  Immeritô.

  ¶ To the most excellent and learned both Orator and Poete, Mayster Gabriell Haruey, his verie special and singular good frend E. K. commendeth the good lyking of this his labour, and the patronage of the new Poete.

  VNCOVTHE VNKISTE, Sayde the olde famous Poete

  Chaucer: whom for his excellencie and wonderfull skil in

  making, his scholler Lidgate, a worthy scholler of so excellent

  a maister, calleth the Loadestarre of our Language: and whom

  5

  our Colin clout in his Æglogue called Tityrus the God of

  shepheards, comparing hym to the worthines of the Roman

  Tityrus Virgile. Which prouerbe, myne owne good friend

  Ma. Haruey, as in that good old Poete it serued well Pandares

  purpose, for the bolstering of his baudy brocage, so very well

  10

  taketh place in this our new Poete, who for that he is vncouthe

  (as said Chaucer) is vnkist, and vnknown to most men, is

  regarded but of few. But I dout not, so soone as his name

  shall come into the knowledg of men, and his worthines be

  sounded in the tromp of fame, but that he shall be not onely

  15

  kiste, but also beloued of all, embraced of the most, and

  wondred at of the best. No lesse I thinke, deserueth his

  wittinesse in deuising, his pithinesse in vttering, his com

  plaints of loue so louely, his discourses of pleasure so pleas-

  antly, his pastorall rudenesse, his morall wisenesse, his dewe

  20

  obseruing of Decorum euerye where, in personages, in seasons,

  in matter, in speach, and generally in al seemely simplycitie

  of handeling his matter, and framing his words: the which of

  many thinges which in him be straunge, I know will seeme

  the straungest, the words them selues being so auncient, the

  25

  knitting of them so short and intricate, and the whole Periode

  and compasse of speache so delightsome for the roundnesse,

  and so graue for the straungenesse. And firste of the wordes

  to speake, I graunt they be something hard, and of most men

  vnused, yet both English, and also vsed of most excellent

  30

  Authors and most famous Poetes. In whom whenas this our

  Poet hath bene much traueiled and throughly redd, how could

  it be, (as that worthy Oratour sayde) but that walking in the

  sonne although for other cause he walked, yet needes he

  mought be sunburnt; and hauing the sound of those auncient

  35

  Poetes still ringing in his eares, he mought needes in singing

  hit out some of theyr tunes. But whether he vseth them by

  such casualtye and custome, or of set purpose and choyse, as

  thinking them fittest for such rusticall rudenesse of

  shepheards, eyther for that theyr rough sounde would make

  40

  his rymes more ragged and rustical, or els because such olde

  and obsolete wordes are most vsed of country folke, sure I

  think, and think I think not amisse, that they bring great grace

  and, as one would say, auctoritie to the verse. For albe amongst

  many other faultes it specially be obiected of Valla against

  45

  Liuie, and of other against Saluste, that with ouer much studie

  they affect antiquitie, as coueting thereby credence and honor

  of elder yeeres, yet I am of opinion, and eke the best learned

  are of the lyke, that those auncient solemne wordes are a great

  ornament both in the one and in the other; the one labouring

  50

  to set forth in hys worke an eternall image of antiquitie,

  and the other carefully discoursing matters of grauitie and

  importaunce. For if my memory fayle not, Tullie in that

  booke, wherein he endeuoureth to set forth the paterne of a

  perfect Oratour, sayth that ofttimes an auncient worde maketh

  55

  the style seeme graue, and as it were reuerend: no otherwise

  then we honour and reuerence gray heares for a certein

  religious regard, which we haue of old age. yet nether euery

  where must old words be stuffed in, nor the commen Dialecte

  and maner of speaking so corrupted therby, that as in old

  60

  buildings it seme disorderly and ruinous. But all as in most

  exquisite pictures they vse to blaze and portraict not onely

  the daintie lineaments of beautye, but also rounde about it

  to shadow the rude thickets and craggy clifts, that by the

  basenesse of such parts, more excellency may accrew to the

  65

  principall; for oftimes we fynde ourselues, I knowe not ho
w,

  singularly delighted with the shewe of such naturall rudenesse,

  and take great pleasure in that disorderly order. Euen so doe

  those rough and harsh termes enlumine and make more clearly

  to appeare the brightnesse of braue and glorious words. So

  70

  ofentimes a dischorde in Musick maketh a comely concordaunce:

  so great delight tooke the worthy Poete Alceus to

  behold a blemish in the ioynt of a wel shaped body. But if

  any will rashly blame such his purpose in choyse of old and

  vnwonted words, him may I more iustly blame and condemne,

  75

  or of witlesse headinesse in iudging, or of heedelesse hardinesse

  in condemning. for not marking the compasse of hys bent, he

  wil iudge of the length of his cast. for in my opinion it is one

  special prayse, of many whych are dew to this Poete, that he

  hath laboured to restore, as to theyr rightfull heritage such

  80

  good and naturall English words, as haue ben long time out

  of vse and almost cleare disherited. Which is the onely cause,

  that our Mother tonge, which truely of it self is both ful

  enough for prose and stately enough for verse, hath long time

  ben counted most bare and barrein of both. which default

  85

  when as some endeuoured to salue and recure, they patched

  vp the holes with peces and rags of other languages, borrowing

  here of the french, there of the Italian, euery where of the

  Latine, not weighing how il, those tongues accorde with

  themselues, but much worse with ours: So now they haue

  90

  made our English tongue, a gallimaufray or hodgepodge of al

  other speches. Other some not so wel seene in the English

  tonge as perhaps in other languages, if them happen to here

  an olde word albeit very naturall and significant, crye out

  streight way, that we speak no English, but gibbrish, or rather

  95

  such, as in old time Euanders mother spake, whose first shame

  is, that they are not ashamed, in their own mother tonge

  straungers to be counted and alienes. The second shame no

  lesse then the first, that what so they vnderstand not, they

  streight way deeme to be sencelesse, and not at al to be

  100

  vnderstode. Much like to the Mole in Æsopes fable, that being

  blynd her selfe, would in no wise be perswaded, that any beast

  could see. The last more shameful then both, that of their

  owne country and natural speach, which together with their

  Nources milk they sucked, they haue so base regard and

  105

  bastard iudgement, that they will not onely themselues not

  labor to garnish and beautifie it, but also repine, that of other

  it shold be embellished. Like to the dogge in the maunger,

  that him selfe can eate no hay, and yet barketh at the hungry

  bullock, that so faine would feede: whose currish kind though

  110

  cannot be kept from barking, yet I conne them thanke that

  they refrain from byting.

  Now for the knitting of sentences, whych they call the

  ioynts and members therof, and for al the compasse of the

  speach, it is round without roughnesse, and learned wythout

  115

  hardnes, such indeede as may be perceiued of the leaste,

  vnderstoode of the moste, but iudged onely of the learned.

  For what in most English wryters vseth to be loose, and as it

  were vngyrt, in this Authour is well grounded, finely framed,

  and strongly trussed vp together. In regard wherof, I scorne

  120

  and spue out the rakehellye route of our ragged rymers (for

  so themselues vse to hunt the letter) which without learning

  boste, without iudgement iangle, without reason rage and

  fome, as if some instinct of Poeticall spirite had newly rauished

  them aboue the meanenesse of commen capacitie. And being

  125

  in the middest of all theyr brauery, sodenly eyther for want

  of matter, or of ryme, or hauing forgotten theyr former

  conceipt, they seeme to be so pained and traueiled in theyr

  remembrance, as it were a woman in childebirth or as that

  130

  same Pythia, when the traunce came vpon her.

  Os rabidum fera corda domans &c.

  Nethelesse let them a Gods name feede on theyr owne

  folly, so they seeke not to darken the beames of others glory.

  As for Colin, vnder whose person the Authour selfe is

  shadowed, how furre he is from such vaunted titles and

  135

  glorious showes, both him selfe sheweth, where he sayth.

  Of Muses Hobbin. I conne no skill. And,

  Enough is me to paint out my vnrest, &c.

  And also appeareth by the basenesse of the name, wherein,

  it semeth, he chose rather to vnfold great matter of argument

  140

  couertly, then professing it, not suffice thereto accordingly.

  which moued him rather in Æglogues, then other wise to

  write, doubting perhaps his habilitie, which he little needed,

  or mynding to furnish our tongue with this kinde, wherein it

  faulteth, or following the example of the best and most auncient

  145

  Poetes, which deuised this kind of wryting, being both so base

  for the matter, and homely for the manner, at the first to trye

  theyr habilities: and as young birdes, that be newly crept out

  of the nest, by little first to proue theyr tender wyngs, before

  they make a greater flyght. So flew Theocritus, as you may

  150

  perceiue he was all ready full fledged. So flew Virgile, as not

  yet well feeling his winges. So flew Mantuane, as being not

  full somd. So Petrarque. So Boccace; So Marot, Sanazarus,

  and also diuers other excellent both Italian and French Poetes,

  whose foting this Author euery where followeth, yet so as

  155

  few, but they be wel sented can trace him out. So finally flyeth

  this our new Poete, as a bird, whose principals be scarce

  growen out, but yet as that in time shall be hable to keepe

  wing with the best.

  Now as touching the generall dryft and purpose of his

  160

  Æglogues, I mind not to say much, him selfe labouring to

  conceale it. Onely this appeareth, that his vnstayed yougth

  had long wandred in the common Labyrinth of Loue, in which

  time to mitigate and allay the heate of his passion, or els to

  warne (as he sayth) the young shepheards .s. his equalls and

  165

  companions of his vnfortunate folly, he compiled these xij.

  Æglogues, which for that they be proportioned to the state

  of the xij. monethes, he termeth the SHEPHEARDS CAL

  ENDAR, applying an olde name to a new worke. Hereunto