The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 5 - Edmund Spenser
But that faire lampe, from whose celestiall ray
That light proceedes which kindleth lovers fire, 100
Shall never be extinguisht nor decay;
But, when the vitall spirits doe espyre,
Unto her native planet shall retyre;
For it is heavenly borne, and cannot die,
Being a parcell of the purest skie. 105
For when the soule, the which derived was,
At first, out of that great immortall Spright,
By whom all live to love, whilome did pas
Down from the top of purest heavens hight
To be embodied here, it then tooke light 110
And lively spirits from that fayrest starre
Which lights the world forth from his firie carre.
Which powre retayning still, or more or lesse,
When she in fleshly seede is eft* enraced**,
Through every part she doth the same impresse, 115
According as the heavens have her graced,
And frames her house, in which she will be placed,
Fit for her selfe, adorning it with spoyle
Of th'heavenly riches which she robd erewhyle.
[* _Eft_, afterwards.]
[** _Enraced_, implanted.]
Thereof it comes that these faire soules which have
The most resemblance of that heavenly light 121
Frame to themselves most beautifull and brave
Their fleshly bowre, most fit for their delight,
And the grosse matter by a soveraine might
Temper so trim, that it may well be seene 125
A pallace fit for such a virgin queene.
So every spirit, as it is most pure,
And hath in it the more of heavenly light,
So it the fairer bodie doth procure
To habit in, and it more fairely dight* 130
With chearfull grace and amiable sight:
For of the soule the bodie forme doth take;
For soule is forme, and doth the bodie make.
[* _Dight_, adorn.]
Therefore, where-ever that thou doest behold
A comely corpse*, with beautie faire endewed, 135
Know this for certaine, that the same doth hold
A beauteous soule with fair conditions thewed**,
Fit to receive the seede of vertue strewed;
For all that faire is, is by nature good;
That is a sign to know the gentle blood. 140
[* _Corpse_, body.]
[** i.e. endowed with fair qualities.]
Yet oft it falles that many a gentle mynd
Dwels in deformed tabernacle drownd,
Either by chaunce, against the course of kynd*,
Or through unaptnesse in the substance fownd,
Which it assumed of some stubborne grownd, 145
That will not yield unto her formes direction,
But is deform'd with some foule imperfection.
[* _Kynd_, nature.]
And oft it falles, (ay me, the more to rew!)
That goodly Beautie, albe heavenly borne,
Is foule abusd, and that celestiall hew, 150
Which doth the world with her delight adorne,
Made but the bait of sinne, and sinners scorne,
Whilest every one doth seeke and sew to have it,
But every one doth seeke but to deprave it.
Yet nathemore is that faire Beauties blame, 155
But theirs that do abuse it unto ill:
Nothing so good, but that through guilty shame
May be corrupt*, and wrested unto will.
Nathelesse the soule is faire and beauteous still,
However fleshes fault it filthy make; 160
For things immortall no corruption take.
[* _Corrupt_, corrupted.]
But ye, faire Dames! the worlds deare ornaments,
And lively images of heavens light,
Let not your beames with such disparagements
Be dimd, and your bright glorie darkned quight; l65
But mindfull still of your first countries sight,
Doe still preserve your first informed grace,
Whose shadow yet shynes in your beauteous face.
Loath that foule blot, that hellish fierbrand,
Disloiall lust, fair Beauties foulest blame, 170
That base affections, which your eares would bland*,
Commend to you by loves abused name,
But is indeede the bondslave of defame;
Which will the garland of your glorie marre,
And quench the light of your brightshyning starre. 175
[* _Bland_, blandish.]
But gentle Love, that loiall is and trew,
Wil more illumine your resplendent ray,
And add more brightnesse to your goodly hew
From light of his pure fire; which, by like way
Kindled of yours, your likenesse doth display; 180
Like as two mirrours, by opposd reflection,
Doe both expresse the faces first impression.
Therefore, to make your beautie more appeare,
It you behoves to love, and forth to lay
That heavenly riches which in you ye beare, 185
That men the more admyre their fountaine may;
For else what booteth that celestiall ray,
If it in darknesse be enshrined ever,
That it of loving eyes be vewed never?
But, in your choice of loves, this well advize, 190
That likest to your selves ye them select,
The which your forms first sourse may sympathize,
And with like beauties parts be inly deckt;
For if you loosely love without respect,
It is not love, but a discordant warre, 195
Whose unlike parts amongst themselves do iarre.
For love is a celestiall harmonie
Of likely* harts composd of** starres concent,
Which ioyne together in sweete sympathie,
To work each others ioy and true content, 200
Which they have harbourd since their first descent
Out of their heavenly bowres, where they did see
And know ech other here belov'd to bee.
[* _Likely_, similar.]
[** _Composd of_, combined by.]
Then wrong it were that any other twaine
Should in Loves gentle band combyned bee, 205
But those whom Heaven did at first ordaine,
And made out of one mould the more t'agree;
For all that like the beautie which they see
Straight do not love; for Love is not so light
As straight to burne at first beholders sight. 210
But they which love indeede looke otherwise,
With pure regard and spotlesse true intent,
Drawing out of the obiect of their eyes
A more refyned form, which they present
Unto their mind, voide of all blemishment; 215
Which it reducing to her first perfection,
Beholdeth free from fleshes frayle infection.
And then conforming it unto the light
Which in it selfe it hath remaining still,
Of that first sunne, yet sparckling in his sight, 220
Thereof he fashions in his higher skill
An heavenly beautie to his fancies will;
And it embracing in his mind entyre,
The mirrour of his owne thought doth admyre.
Which seeing now so inly faire to be, 225
As outward it appeareth to the eye,
And with his spirits proportion to agree,
He thereon fixeth all his fantasie,
And fully setteth his felicitie;
Counting it fairer then it is indeede, 230
And yet indeede her fairnesse doth exeede.
For lovers eyes more sharply sighted bee
Then other mens, and in deare loves delight
See more then any other eyes can see,
Through mutuall receipt of beames bright, 235
Which carrie privie message to the spright,
And to their eyes that inmost faire display,
As plaine as light discovers dawning day.
Therein they see, through amorous eye-glaunces,
Annies of Loves still flying too and fro, 240
Which dart at them their litle fierie launces;
Whom having wounded, back againe they go,
Carrying compassion to their lovely foe;
Who, seeing her faire eyes so sharp effect,
Cures all their sorrowes with one sweete aspect. 245
In which how many wonders doe they reede
To their conceipt, that others never see!
Now of her smiles, with which their soules they feede,
Like gods with nectar in their bankets free;
Now of her lookes, which like to cordials bee; 250
But when her words embassade* forth she sends,
Lord, how sweete musicke that unto them lends!
[* _Embassade_, embassy.]
Sometimes upon her forhead they behold
A thousand graces masking in delight;
Sometimes within her eye-lids they unfold 255
Ten thousand sweet belgards*, which to their sight
Doe seeme like twinckling starres in frostie night;
But on her lips, like rosy buds in May,
So many millions of chaste pleasures play.
[* _Belgards_, fair looks.]
All those, O Cytherea! and thousands more, 260
Thy handmaides be, which do on thee attend,
To decke thy beautie with their dainties store,
That may it more to mortall eyes commend,
And make it more admyr'd of foe and frend;
That in mans harts thou mayst thy throne enstall, 265
And spred thy lovely kingdome over all.
Then Ioe, tryumph! O great Beauties Queene,
Advance the banner of thy conquest hie,
That all this world, the which thy vassels beene,
May draw to thee, and with dew fealtie 270
Adore the powre of thy great maiestie,
Singing this hymne in honour of thy name,
Compyld by me, which thy poor liegeman am!
In lieu whereof graunt, O great soveraine!
That she whose conquering beauty doth captive 275
My trembling hart in her eternall chaine,
One drop of grace at length will to me give,
That I her bounden thrall by her may live,
And this same life, which first fro me she reaved,
May owe to her, of whom I it receaved. 280
And you, faire Venus dearling, my dear dread!
Fresh flowre of grace, great goddesse of my life,
When your faire eyes these fearfull lines shall read,
Deigne to let fall one drop of dew reliefe,
That may recure my harts long pyning griefe, 285
And shew what wondrous powre your beauty hath,
That can restore a damned wight from death.
AN HYMNE
OF HEAVENLY LOVE*.
[* See the sixth canto of the third book of the Faerie Queene,
especially the second and the thirty-second stanzas; which, with his
Hymnes of Heavenly Love and Heavenly Beauty, are evident proofs of
Spenser's attachment to the Platonic school. WARTON.]
Love, lift me up upon thy golden wings
From this base world unto thy heavens hight,
Where I may see those admirable things
Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might,
Farre above feeble reach of earthly sight, 5
That I thereof an heavenly hymne may sing
Unto the God of Love, high heavens king.
Many lewd layes (ah! woe is me the more!)
In praise of that mad fit which fooles call Love,
I have in th'heat of youth made heretofore, 10
That in light wits did loose affection move;
But all those follies now I do reprove,
And turned have the tenor of my string,
The heavenly prayses of true Love to sing.
And ye that wont with greedy vaine desire 15
To reade my fault, and, wondring at my flame,
To warme your selves at my wide sparckling fire,
Sith now that heat is quenched, quench my blame,
And in her ashes shrowd my dying shame;
For who my passed follies now pursewes, 20
Beginnes his owne, and my old fault renewes.
BEFORE THIS WORLDS GREAT FRAME, in which al things
Are now containd, found any being-place,
Ere flitting Time could wag* his eyas** wings
About that mightie bound which doth embrace 25
The rolling spheres, and parts their houres by space,
That high eternall Powre, which now doth move
In all these things, mov'd in it selfe by love.
[* _Wag_, move.]
[** _Eyas_, unfledged.]
It lovd it selfe, because it selfe was faire;
(For fair is lov'd;) and of it self begot 30
Like to it selfe his eldest Sonne and Heire,
Eternall, pure, and voide of sinfull blot,
The firstling of his ioy, in whom no iot
Of loves dislike or pride was to be found,
Whom he therefore with equall honour crownd. 35
With him he raignd, before all time prescribed,
In endlesse glorie and immortall might,
Together with that Third from them derived,
Most wise, most holy, most almightie Spright! 39
Whose kingdomes throne no thoughts of earthly wight
Can comprehend, much lesse my trembling verse
With equall words can hope it to reherse.
Yet, O most blessed Spirit! pure lampe of light,
Eternall spring of grace and wisedom trew,
Vouchsafe to shed into my barren spright 45
Some little drop of thy celestiall dew,
That may my rymes with sweet infuse* embrew,
And give me words equall unto my thought,
To tell the marveiles by thy mercie wrought.
[* _Infuse_, infusion]
Yet being pregnant still with powrefull grace, 50
And full of fruitfull Love, that loves to get
Things like himselfe and to enlarge his race,
His second brood, though not of powre so great,
Yet full of beautie, next he did beget,
An infinite increase of angels bright, 55
All glistring glorious in their Makers light.
To them the heavens illimitable hight
(Not this round heaven which we from hence behold,
Adornd with thousand lamps of burning light,
And with ten thousand gemmes of shyning gold) 60
He gave as their inheritance to hold,
That they might serve him in eternall blis,
And be partakers of those ioyes of his.
There they in their trinall triplicities
About him wait, and on his will depend, 65
Either with nimble wings to cut the skies,
When he them on his messages doth send,
Or on his owne dread presence to attend,
Where they behold the glorie of his light,
And caroll hymnes of love both day and night. 70
[Ver. 64.--_Trinall triplicities_. See the Faerie Queene, Book I.
Canto XII. 39. H.]
Both day and night is unto them all one;
For he his beames doth unto them extend,
That darknesse there appeareth never none;
Ne hath their day, ne hath their blisse, an end,
But there their termelesse time in pleasure spend; 75
Ne ever should their happinesse decay,
Had not they dar'd their Lord to disobay.
But pride, impatient of long resting peace,
Did puffe them up with greedy bold ambition,
That they gan cast their state how to increase 80
Above the fortune of their first condition,
And sit in Gods own seat without commission:
The brightest angel, even the Child of Light*,
Drew millions more against their God to fight.
[* I.e. Lucifer.]
Th'Almighty, seeing their so bold assay, 85
Kindled the flame of his consuming yre,
And with his onely breath them blew away
From heavens hight, to which they did aspyre,
To deepest hell, and lake of damned fyre,
Where they in darknesse and dread horror dwell, 90
Hating the happie light from which they fell.
So that next off-spring of the Makers love,
Next to himselfe in glorious degree,
Degendering* to hate, fell from above
Through pride; (for pride and love may ill agree;) 95
And now of sinne to all ensample bee:
How then can sinfull flesh it selfe assure,
Sith purest angels fell to be impure?
[* _Degendering_, degenerating.]
But that Eternall Fount of love and grace,
Still flowing forth his goodnesse unto all, 100
Now seeing left a waste and emptie place
In his wyde pallace through those angels fall,
Cast to supply the same, and to enstall
A new unknowen colony therein,
Whose root from earths base groundworke should begin. 105
Therefore of clay, base, vile, and nest to nought,
Yet form'd by wondrous skill, and by his might
According to an heavenly patterne wrought,
Which he had fashiond in his wise foresight,
He man did make, and breathd a living spright 110
Into his face, most beautifull and fayre,
Endewd with wisedomes riches, heavenly, rare.
Such he him made, that he resemble might
Himselfe, as mortall thing immortall could;
Him to be lord of every living wight 115
He made by love out of his owne like mould,
In whom he might his mightie selfe behould;
For Love doth love the thing belov'd to see,
That like it selfe in lovely shape may bee.
But man, forgetfull of his Makers grace 120
No lesse than angels, whom he did ensew,
Fell from the hope of promist heavenly place,
Into the mouth of Death, to sinners dew,
And all his off-spring into thraldome threw,
Where they for ever should in bonds remaine 125
Of never-dead, yet ever-dying paine;
Till that great Lord of Love, which him at first
Made of meere love, and after liked well,
Seeing him lie like creature long accurst
In that deep horor of despeyred hell, 130
Him, wretch, in doole* would let no lenger dwell,
But cast** out of that bondage to redeeme,
And pay the price, all@ were his debt extreeme.
[* _Doole_, pain.]
[** _Cast_, devised.]
[@ _All_, although.]
Out of the bosome of eternall blisse,
In which he reigned with his glorious Syre, 135
He downe descended, like a most demisse*
And abiect thrall, in fleshes fraile attyre,
That he for him might pay sinnes deadly hyre,
And him restore unto that happie state
In which he stood before his haplesse fate. 140
[* _Demisse_, humble.]
In flesh at first the guilt committed was,
Therefore in flesh it must be satisfyde;
Nor spirit, nor angel, though they man surpas,
Could make amends to God for mans misguyde,
But onely man himselfe, who selfe did slyde: 145
So, taking flesh of sacred virgins wombe,
For mans deare sake he did a man become.
And that most blessed bodie, which was borne
Without all blemish or reprochfull blame,
He freely gave to be both rent and torne 150
Of cruell hands, who with despightfull shame
Revyling him, (that them most vile became,)
At length him nayled on a gallow-tree,
And slew the iust by most uniust decree.
O huge and most unspeakeable impression 155
Of Loves deep wound, that pierst the piteous hart
Of that deare Lord with so entyre affection,
And, sharply launcing every inner part,
Dolours of death into his soule did dart,
Doing him die that never it deserved, 160
To free his foes, that from his heast* had swerved!
[* _Heast_, command.]
What hart can feel least touch of so sore launch,
Or thought can think the depth of so deare wound?
Whose bleeding sourse their streames yet never staunch,
But stil do flow, and freshly still redownd*, 165
To heale the sores of sinfull soules unsound,
And clense the guilt of that infected cryme,
Which was enrooted in all fleshly slyme.
[* _Redownd_, overflow.]
O blessed Well of Love! O Floure of Grace!
O glorious Morning-Starre! O Lampe of Light! 170
Most lively image of thy Fathers face,
Eternal King of Glorie, Lord of Might,
Meeke Lambe of God, before all worlds behight*,
How can we thee requite for all this good?
Or what can prize** that thy most precious blood? 175
[* _Behight_, named.]
[** _Prize_, price.]
Yet nought thou ask'st in lieu of all this love
But love of us, for guerdon of thy paine:
Ay me! what can us lesse than that behove?
Had he required life for us againe,
Had it beene wrong to ask his owne with game? 180
He gave us life, he it restored lost;
Then life were least, that us so little cost.
But he our life hath left unto us free,
Free that was thrall, and blessed that was band*;
Ne ought demaunds but that we loving bee, 185
As he himselfe hath lov'd us afore-hand,
And bound therto with an eternall band;
Him first to love that was so dearely bought,
And next our brethren, to his image wrought.
[* _Band_, cursed.]
Him first to love great right and reason is, 190
Who first to us our life and being gave,
And after, when we fared* had amisse,
Us wretches from the second death did save;
And last, the food of life, which now we have,
Even he himselfe, in his dear sacrament, 195
To feede our hungry soules, unto us lent.
[* _Fared_, gone.]
Then next, to love our brethren, that were made
Of that selfe* mould and that self Maker's hand
That we, and to the same againe shall fade,
Where they shall have like heritage of land, 200
However here on higher steps we stand,
Which also were with selfe-same price redeemed
That we, however of us light esteemed.
[* _Selfe_, same.]
And were they not, yet since that loving Lord
Commaunded us to love them for his sake, 205
Even for his sake, and for his sacred word
Which in his last bequest he to us spake,
We should them love, and with their needs partake;
Knowing that whatsoere to them we give
We give to him by whom we all doe live. 210
Such mercy he by his most holy reede*
Unto us taught, and, to approve it trew,
Ensampled it by his most righteous deede,
Shewing us mercie, miserable crew!
That we the like should to the wretches shew, 215
And love our brethren; thereby to approve
How much himselfe that loved us we love.
[* _Reede_, precept.]
Then rouze thy selfe, O Earth! out of thy soyle*,
In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne,
And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle**, 220
Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne;
Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne,
That thou this soveraine bountie mayst behold,
And read, through love, his mercies manifold.
[* _Soyle_, mire.]
[** _Moyle_, defile.]
Beginne from first, where he encradled was 225
In simple cratch*, wrapt in a wad of hay,
Betweene the toylfull oxe and humble asse,
And in what rags, and in how base aray,
The glory of our heavenly riches lay,
When him the silly shepheards came to see, 230
Whom greatest princes sought on lowest knee.
[* _Cratch_, manger.]
From thence reade on the storie of his life,
His humble carriage, his unfaulty wayes,
His cancred foes, his fights, his toyle, his strife,
His paines, his povertie, his sharpe assayes, 235
Through which he past his miserable dayes,
Offending none, and doing good to all,
Yet being malist* both by great and small.
[* _Malist_, regarded with ill-will.]
And look at last, how of most wretched wights
He taken was, betrayd, and false accused; 240
How with most scornfull taunts and fell despights,
He was revyld, disgrast, and foule abused;
How scourgd, how crownd, how buffeted, how brused;
And, lastly, how twixt robbers crucifyde,
With bitter wounds through hands, through feet, and syde! 245
Then let thy flinty hart, that feeles no paine,
Empierced he with pittifull remorse,
And let thy bowels bleede in every vaine,
At sight of his most sacred heavenly corse,
So torne and mangled with malicious forse; 250
And let thy soule, whose sins his sorrows wrought,
Melt into teares, and grone in grieved thought.
With sence whereof whilest so thy softened spirit
Is inly toucht, and humbled with meeke zeale
Through meditation of his endlesse merit, 255
Lift up thy mind to th'author of thy weale,
And to his soveraine mercie doe appeale;
Learne him to love that loved thee so deare,
And in thy brest his blessed image beare.
With all thy hart, with all thy soule and mind, 260
Thou must him love, and his beheasts embrace;
All other loves, with which the world doth blind
Weake fancies, and stirre up affections base,
Thou must renounce and utterly displace,
And give thy self unto him full and free, 265
That full and freely gave himselfe to thee.
Then shalt thou feele thy spirit so possest,
And ravisht with devouring great desire
Of his dear selfe, that shall thy feeble brest
Inflame with love, and set thee all on fire 270
With burning zeale, through every part entire*,
That in no earthly thing thou shalt delight,
But in his sweet and amiable sight.
[* _Entire_, inward.]
Thenceforth all worlds desire will in thee dye,
And all earthes glorie, on which men do gaze, 275
Seeme durt and drosse in thy pure-sighted eye,
Compar'd to that celestiall beauties blaze,
Whose glorious beames all fleshly sense doth daze
With admiration of their passing light,
Blinding the eyes, and lumining the spright. 280
Then shall thy ravisht soul inspired bee
With heavenly thoughts, farre above humane skil,
And thy bright radiant eyes shall plainely see
Th'idee of his pure glorie present still
Before thy face, that all thy spirits shall fill 285
With sweete enragement of celestiall love,
Kindled through sight of those faire things above.
AN HYMNE
OF HEAVENLY BEAUTIE.
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravisht thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights
And glorious images in heaven wrought,
Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights,
Do kindle love in high conceipted sprights, 5
I faine* to tell the things that I behold,
But feele my wits to faile and tongue to fold.
[* _Faine_, long.]