The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 5 - Edmund Spenser
Vouchsafe then, O Thou most Almightie Spright!
From whom all guifts of wit and knowledge flow,
To shed into my breast some sparkling light 10
Of thine eternall truth, that I may show
Some little beames to mortall eyes below
Of that immortall Beautie there with Thee,
Which in my weake distraughted mynd I see;
That with the glorie of so goodly sight 15
The hearts of men, which fondly here admyre
Faire seeming shewes, and feed on vaine delight,
Transported with celestiall desyre
Of those faire formes, may lift themselves up hyer,
And learne to love, with zealous humble dewty, 20
Th'Eternall Fountaine of that heavenly Beauty.
Beginning then below, with th'easie vew
Of this base world, subiect to fleshly eye,
From thence to mount aloft, by order dew,
To contemplation of th'immortall sky; 25
Of the soare faulcon* so I learne to flye.
That flags a while her fluttering wings beneath,
Till she her selfe for stronger flight can breath.
[* _Soare faulcon_, a young falcon; a hawk that has not shed its first
feathers, which are _sorrel_.]
Then looke, who list thy gazefull eyes to feed
With sight of that is faire, looke on the frame 30
Of this wyde universe, and therein reed
The endlesse kinds of creatures which by name
Thou canst not count, much less their natures aime;
All which are made with wondrous wise respect,
And all with admirable beautie deckt. 35
First, th'Earth, on adamantine pillers founded
Amid the Sea, engirt with brasen bands;
Then th'Aire, still flitting, but yet firmely bounded
On everie side with pyles of flaming brands,
Never consum'd, nor quencht with mortall hands; 40
And last, that mightie shining cristall wall,
Wherewith he hath encompassed this all.
By view whereof it plainly may appeare,
That still as every thing doth upward tend
And further is from earth, so still more cleare 45
And faire it growes, till to his perfect end
Of purest Beautie it at last ascend;
Ayre more then water, fire much more then ayre,
And heaven then fire, appeares more pure and fayre.
Looke thou no further, but affixe thine eye 50
On that bright shynie round still moving masse,
The house of blessed God, which men call Skye,
All sowd with glistring stars more thicke then grasse,
Whereof each other doth in brightnesse passe,
But those two most, which, ruling night and day, 55
As king and queene the heavens empire sway;
And tell me then, what hast thou ever seene
That to their beautie may compared bee?
Or can the sight that is most sharpe and keene
Endure their captains flaming head to see? 60
How much lesse those, much higher in degree,
And so much fairer, and much more then these,
As these are fairer then the land and seas?
For farre above these heavens which here we see,
Be others farre exceeding these in light, 65
Not bounded, not corrupt, as these same bee,
But infinite in largenesse and in hight,
Unmoving, uncorrupt, and spotlesse bright,
That need no sunne t'illuminate their spheres,
But their owne native light farre passing theirs. 70
And as these heavens still by degrees arize,
Until they come to their first movers* bound,
That in his mightie compasse doth comprize
And came all the rest with him around,
So those likewise doe by degrees redound**, 75
And rise more faire, till they at last arive
To the most faire, whereto they all do strive.
[* I.e. the _primum mobile_.]
[** I.e. exceed the one the other.]
Faire is the heaven where happy soules have place,
In full enioyment of felicitie,
Whence they doe still behold the glorious face 80
Of the Divine Eternall Maiestie;
More faire is that where those Idees on hie
Enraunged be, which Plato so admyred,
And pure Intelligences from God inspyred.
Yet fairer is that heaven in which do raine 85
The soveraigne Powres and mightie Potentates,
Which in their high protections doe containe
All mortall princes and imperiall states;
And fayrer yet whereas the royall Seates
And heavenly Dominations are set, 90
From whom all earthly governance is fet*.
[* _Fet_, fetched, derived.]
Yet farre more faire be those bright Cherubins,
Which all with golden wings are overdight,
And those eternall burning Seraphins,
Which from their faces dart out fierie light; 95
Yet fairer then they both, and much more bright,
Be th'Angels and Archangels, which attend
On Gods owne person, without rest or end.
These thus in faire each other farre excelling,
As to the Highest they approach more near, 100
Yet is that Highest farre beyond all telling,
Fairer then all the rest which there appeare,
Though all their beauties ioyn'd together were;
How then can mortall tongue hope to expresse
The image of such endlesse perfectnesse? 105
Cease then, my tongue! and lend unto my mynd
Leave to bethinke how great that Beautie is,
Whose utmost* parts so beautifull I fynd;
How much more those essentiall parts of His,
His truth, his love, his wisedome, and his blis, 110
His grace, his doome**, his mercy, and his might,
By which he lends us of himselfe a sight!
[* _Utmost_, outmost.]
[** _Doome_, judgment.]
Those unto all he daily doth display,
And shew himselfe in th'image of his grace,
As in a looking-glasse, through which he may 115
Be seene of all his creatures vile and base,
That are unable else to see his face;
His glorious face! which glistereth else so bright,
That th'angels selves can not endure his sight.
But we, fraile wights! whose sight cannot sustaine 120
The suns bright beames when he on us doth shyne,
But* that their points rebutted** backe againe
Are duld, how can we see with feeble eyne
The glorie of that Maiestie Divine,
In sight of whom both sun and moone are darke, 125
Compared to his least resplendent sparke?
[* _But_, unless.]
[** _Rebutted_, reflected.]
The meanes, therefore, which unto us is lent
Him to behold, is on his workes to looke.
Which he hath made in beauty excellent,
And in the same, as in a brasen booke, 130
To read enregistred in every nooke
His goodnesse, which his beautie doth declare;
For all thats good is beautifull and faire.
Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation
To impe* the wings of thy high flying mynd, 135
Mount up aloft through heavenly contemplation
From this darke world, whose damps the soule do blynd,
And, like the native brood of eagles kynd,
On that bright Sunne of Glorie fixe thine eyes,
Clear'd from grosse mists of fraile infirmities. 140
[* _Impe_, mend, strengthen.]
Humbled with feare and awfull reverence,
Before the footestoole of his Maiestie
Throw thy selfe downe, with trembling innocence,
Ne dare looke up with corruptible eye
On the dred face of that great Deity, 145
For feare lest, if he chaunce to look on thee,
Thou turne to nought, and quite confounded be.
But lowly fall before his mercie seate,
Close covered with the Lambes integrity
From the iust wrath of His avengefull threate 150
That sits upon the righteous throne on hy;
His throne is built upon Eternity,
More firme and durable then steele or brasse,
Or the hard diamond, which them both doth passe.
His scepter is the rod of Righteousnesse, 155
With which he bruseth all his foes to dust,
And the great Dragon strongly doth represse
Under the rigour of his iudgment iust;
His seate is Truth, to which the faithfull trust,
From whence proceed her beames so pure and bright, 160
That all about him sheddeth glorious light:
Light farre exceeding that bright blazing sparke
Which darted is from Titans flaming head,
That with his beames enlumineth the darke
And dampish air, wherby al things are red*; 165
Whose nature yet so much is marvelled
Of mortall wits, that it doth much amaze
The greatest wisards** which thereon do gaze.
[* _Red_, perceived.]
[** _Wisards_, wise men, _savants_.]
But that immortall light which there doth shine
Is many thousand times more bright, more cleare, 170
More excellent, more glorious, more divine;
Through which to God all mortall actions here,
And even the thoughts of men, do plaine appeare;
For from th'Eternall Truth it doth proceed,
Through heavenly vertue which her beames doe breed. 175
With the great glorie of that wondrous light
His throne is all encompassed around,
And hid in his owne brightnesse from the sight
Of all that looke thereon with eyes unsound;
And underneath his feet are to be found 180
Thunder, and lightning, and tempestuous fyre,
The instruments of his avenging yre.
There in his bosome Sapience doth sit,
The soveraine dearling of the Deity,
Clad like a queene in royall robes, most fit 185
For so great powre and peerelesse maiesty,
And all with gemmes and iewels gorgeously
Adornd, that brighter then the starres appeare,
And make her native brightnes seem more cleare.
And on her head a crown of purest gold 190
Is set, in signe of highest soverainty;
And in her hand a scepter she doth hold,
With which she rules the house of God on hy,
And menageth the ever-moving sky,
And in the same these lower creatures all 195
Subiected to her powre imperiall.
Both heaven and earth obey unto her will,
And all the creatures which they both containe;
For of her fulnesse, which the world doth fill,
They all partake, and do in state remaine 200
As their great Maker did at first ordaine,
Through observation of her high beheast,
By which they first were made, and still increast.
The fairnesse of her face no tongue can tell;
For she the daughters of all wemens race, 205
And angels eke, in beautie doth excell,
Sparkled on her from Gods owne glorious face,
And more increast by her owne goodly grace,
That it doth farre exceed all humane thought,
Ne can on earth compared be to ought. 210
Ne could that painter (had he lived yet)
Which pictured Venus with so curious quill
That all posteritie admyred it,
Have purtray'd this, for all his maistring* skill;
Ne she her selfe, had she remained still, 215
And were as faire as fabling wits do fayne,
Could once come neare this Beauty soverayne.
[* _Maistring_, superior.]
But had those wits, the wonders of their dayes,
Or that sweete Teian poet*, which did spend
His plenteous vaine in setting forth her praise, 220
Seen but a glims of this which I pretend**,
How wondrously would he her face commend,
Above that idole of his fayning thought,
That all the world should with his rimes be fraught!
[* I.e. Anacreon.]
[** _Pretend_, set forth, (or, simply) intend.]
How then dare I, the novice of his art, 225
Presume to picture so divine a wight,
Or hope t'expresse her least perfections part,
Whose beautie filles the heavens with her light,
And darkes the earth with shadow of her sight?
Ah, gentle Muse! thou art too weake and faint 230
The pourtraict of so heavenly hew to paint.
Let angels, which her goodly face behold,
And see at will, her soveraigne praises sing,
And those most sacred mysteries unfold
Of that faire love of mightie Heavens King; 235
Enough is me t'admyre so heavenly thing,
And being thus with her huge love possest,
In th'only wonder of her selfe to rest.
But whoso may, thrise happie man him hold
Of all on earth, whom God so much doth grace, 240
And lets his owne Beloved to behold;
For in the view of her celestiall face
All ioy, all blisse, all happinesse, have place;
Ne ought on earth can want unto the wight
Who of her selfe can win the wishfull sight. 245
For she out of her secret threasury
Plentie of riches forth on him will powre,
Even heavenly riches, which there hidden ly
Within the closet of her chastest bowre,
Th'eternall portion of her precious dowre, 250
Which Mighty God hath given to her free,
And to all those which thereof worthy bee.
None thereof worthy be, but those whom shee
Vouchsafeth to her presence to receave,
And letteth them her lovely face to see, 255
Wherof such wondrous pleasures they conceave,
And sweete contentment, that it doth bereave
Their soul of sense, through infinite delight,
And them transport from flesh into the spright.
In which they see such admirable things, 260
As carries them into an extasy;
And heare such heavenly notes and carolings
Of Gods high praise, that filles the brasen sky;
And feele such ioy and pleasure inwardly,
That maketh them all worldly cares forget, 265
And onely thinke on that before them set.
Ne from thenceforth doth any fleshly sense,
Or idle thought of earthly things, remaine;
But all that earst seemd sweet seemes now offence,
And all that pleased earst now seemes to paine: 270
Their ioy, their comfort, their desire, their game,
Is fixed all on that which now they see;
All other sights but fayned shadowes bee.
And that faire lampe which useth to enflame
The hearts of men with selfe-consuming fyre, 275
Thenceforth seemes fowle, and full of sinfull blame
And all that pompe to which proud minds aspyre
By name of Honor, and so much desyre,
Seemes to them basenesse, and all riches drosse,
And all mirth sadnesse, and all lucre losse. 280
So full their eyes are of that glorious sight,
And senses fraught with such satietie.
That in nought else on earth they can delight,
But in th'aspect of that felicitie
Which they have written in theyr inward ey; 285
On which they feed, and in theyr fastened mynd
All happie ioy and full contentment fynd.
Ah, then, my hungry soule! which long hast fed
On idle fancies of thy foolish thought,
And, with false Beauties flattring bait misled, 290
Hast after vaine deceiptfull shadowes sought,
Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought
But late repentance, through thy follies prief,
Ah! ceasse to gaze on matter of thy grief:
And looke at last up to that Soveraine Light, 295
From whose pure beams al perfect Beauty springs,
That kindleth love in every godly spright,
Even the love of God; which loathing brings
Of this vile world and these gay-seeming things;
With whose sweet pleasures being so possest, 300
Thy straying thoughts henceforth for ever rest.
* * * * *
EPIGRAMS AND SONNETS.
EPIGRAMS.
I*.
[* In the folio of 1611, these four short pieces are appended
to the Sonnets. The second and third are translated from Marot's
Epigrams, Liv. III. No. 5, _De Diane_, and No. 24, _De Cupido et de sa
Dame_. C.]
In youth, before I waxed old,
The blynd boy, Venus baby,
For want of cunning, made me bold
In bitter hyve to grope for honny:
But when he saw me stung and cry,
He tooke his wings and away did fly.
II.
As Diane hunted on a day,
She chaunst to come where Cupid lay,
His quiver by his head:
One of his shafts she stole away,
And one of hers did close convay,
Into the others stead:
With that Love wounded my Loves hart,
But Diane, beasts with Cupids dart.
III.
I saw, in secret to my dame
How little Cupid humbly came,
And said to her, "All hayle, my mother!"
But when he saw me laugh, for shame
His face with bashfull blood did flame,
Not knowing Venus from the other.
"Then, never blush, Cupid," quoth I,
"For many have err'd in this beauty."
IV.
Upon a day, as Love lay sweetly slumbring
All in his mothers lap,
A gentle Bee, with his loud trumpet murm'ring,
About him flew by hap.
Whereof when he was wakened with the noyse,
And saw the beast so small,
"Whats this," quoth he, "that gives so great a voyce,
That wakens men withall?"
In angry wize he flies about,
And threatens all with corage stout. 10
To whom his mother, closely* smiling, sayd,
'Twixt earnest and 'twixt game:
"See! thou thy selfe likewise art lyttle made,
If thou regard the same.
And yet thou suffrest neyther gods in sky, 15
Nor men in earth, to rest:
But when thou art disposed cruelly,
Theyr sleepe thou doost molest.
Then eyther change thy cruelty,
Or give lyke leave unto the fly." 20
[* _Closely_, secretly.]
Nathelesse, the cruell boy, not so content,
Would needs the fly pursue,
And in his hand, with heedlesse hardiment,
Him caught for to subdue.
But when on it he hasty hand did lay, 25
The Bee him stung therefore.
"Now out, alas," he cryde, "and welaway!
I wounded am full sore.
The fly, that I so much did scorne,
Hath hurt me with his little horne." 30
Unto his mother straight he weeping came,
And of his griefe complayned;
Who could not chuse but laugh at his fond game,
Though sad to see him pained.
"Think now," quoth she, "my son, how great the smart 35
Of those whom thou dost wound:
Full many thou hast pricked to the hart,
That pitty never found.
Therefore, henceforth some pitty take,
When thou doest spoyle of lovers make." 40
She tooke him streight full pitiously lamenting,
She wrapt him softly, all the while repenting
That he the fly did mock.
She drest his wound, and it embaulmed well 45
With salve of soveraigne might;
And then she bath'd him in a dainty well,
The well of deare delight.
Who would not oft be stung as this,
To be so bath'd in Venus blis? 50
The wanton boy was shortly wel recured
Of that his malady;
But he soone after fresh again enured*
His former cruelty.
And since that time he wounded hath my selfe 55
With his sharpe dart of love,
And now forgets the cruell carelesse elfe
His mothers heast** to prove.
So now I languish, till he please
My pining anguish to appease. 60
[* _Enured_, practised.]
[** _Heast_, command.]
SONNETS
WRITTEN BY SPENSER,
COLLECTED FKOM THE ORIGINAL PUBLICATIONS IN
WHICH THEY APPEARED.
I*.
_To the right worshipfull, my singular good frend,
M. Gabriell Harvey, Doctor of the Lawes._
Harvey, the happy above happiest men
I read**; that, sitting like a looker-on
Of this worldes stage, doest note with critique pen
The sharpe dislikes of each condition:
And, as one carelesse of suspition,
Ne fawnest for the favour of the great,
Ne fearest foolish reprehension
Of faulty men, which daunger to thee threat:
But freely doest of what thee list entreat,@
Like a great lord of peerelesse liberty,
Lifting the good up to high Honours seat,
And the evill damning evermore to dy:
For life and death is in thy doomeful writing;
So thy renowme lives ever by endighting.
Dublin, this xviij. of July, 1586.
Your devoted friend, during life,
EDMUND SPENCER.
[* From "Foure Letters and certaine Sonnets especially touching Robert
Greene, and other parties by him abused," &c. London, 1592. TODD.]
[** _Read_, consider.]
[@ _Entreat_, treat.]
II*.
Whoso wil seeke, by right deserts, t'attaine
Unto the type of true nobility,
And not by painted shewes, and titles vaine,
Derived farre from famous auncestrie,
Behold them both in their right visnomy**
Here truly pourtray'd as they ought to be,
And striving both for termes of dignitie,
To be advanced highest in degree.
And when thou doost with equall insight see
The ods twist both, of both then deem aright,
And chuse the better of them both to thee;
But thanks to him that it deserves behight@:
To Nenna first, that first this worke created,
And next to Iones, that truely it translated.
ED. SPENSER.
[* Prefixed to "Nennio, or A Treatise of Nobility, &c. Written in
Italian by that famous Doctor and worthy Knight, Sir John Baptista
Nenna of Bari. Done into English by William Iones, Gent." 1595. TODD.]
[** _Visnomy_, features.]
[@ _Behight_, accord.]
III*.
_Upon the Historie of George Castriot, alias Scanderbeg, King of the
Epirots, translated into English._
Wherefore doth vaine Antiquitie so vaunt
Her ancient monuments of mightie peeres,
And old heroees, which their world did daunt
With their great deedes and fild their childrens eares?
Who, rapt with wonder of their famous praise,
Admire their statues, their colossoes great,
Their rich triumphall arcks which they did raise,
Their huge pyramids, which do heaven threat.
Lo! one, whom later age hath brought to light,
Matchable to the greatest of those great;
Great both by name, and great in power and might,
And meriting a meere** triumphant seate.
The scourge of Turkes, and plague of infidels,
Thy acts, O Scanderbeg, this volume tels.
ED. SPENSER.
[* Prefixed to the "Historie of George Castriot, alias Scanderbeg, King
of Albanie: Containing his famous actes, &c. Newly translated out of
French into English by Z.I. Gentleman." 1596. TODD.]
[** _Meere_, absolute, decided.]
IV*.
The antique Babel, empresse of the East,
Upreard her buildinges to the threatned skie:
And second Babell, tyrant of the West,
Her ayry towers upraised much more high.
But with the weight of their own surquedry**
They both are fallen, that all the earth did feare,
And buried now in their own ashes ly,
Yet shewing, by their heapes, how great they were.
But in their place doth now a third appeare,
Fayre Venice, flower of the last worlds delight;
And next to them in beauty draweth neare,
But farre exceedes in policie of right.
Yet not so fayre her buildinges to behold
As Lewkenors stile that hath her beautie told.
EDM. SPENCER.
[* Prefixed to "The Commonwealth and Government of Venice,
Written by the Cardinall Gaspar Contareno, and translated out of Italian
into English by Lewes Lewkenor, Esquire." London, 1599. TODD.]
[** _Surquedry_, presumption.]
* * * * *
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX I.
VARIATIONS FROM THE ORIGINAL EDITIONS.
The Ruines of Time v. 353, covetize, Q. covertize.
The Ruines of Time v. 541, ocean, Q. Occaean.
The Ruines of Time v. 551, which (ed. 1611), Q. with.
The Ruines of Time v. 574, worlds (ed. 1611), Q. words.
The Ruines of Time v. 675, worldes, Q. worlds.
The Teares of the Muses v. 600, living (ed. 1611), Q. loving.
Virgils Gnat v. 149, Ascraean, Q. Astraean.
Virgils Gnat v. 340, seest thou not (ed. 1611), Q. seest thou.
Virgils Gnat v. 387, throat (ed. 1611), Q. threat.
Virgils Gnat v. 575, billowes, Q. billowe.
Prosopopoia v. 53, gossip, Q. goship.
Prosopopoia v. 453, diriges, Q. dirges.
Prosopopoia v. 648, at all, Q. all.
Prosopopoia v. 997, whether, Q. whither.
Prosopopoia v. 1012, stopt, Q. stept.
Prosopopoia v. 1019, whither, Q. whether.
Ruines of Rome xviii. 5, ornaments, Q. ornament.
Muiopotmos v. 250, dispacing, Q. displacing.
Muiopotmos v. 431, yongthly, Q. yougthly.
The Visions of Bellay ii. 8, one, Q. on.
The Visions of Bellay ix. 1, astonied, Q. astoined.
The Visions of Petrarche vii. 1, behold, Q. beheld.
Amoretti lxxxii. 2, placed, Orig ed*. plac'd. [* According to Todd.]
Epithalmion v. 67, dere, orig. ed. dore.
Epithalmion v. 190, mazeful (ed. 1611), orig. ed. amazeful.
Epithalmion v. 290, sad dread (ed. 1611), orig. ed. dread.
Epithalmion v. 341, Pouke, orig. ed. ponke.
An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 165, they will (ed. 1611), orig. ed. thou
wilt.
An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 169, be enfyred (ed. 1611), orig. ed. he
enfyred.
An Hymne in Honour of Love v. 302, an (ed. 1611), orig. ed. and.
An Hymne in Honour of Beautie v. 147, deform'd, orig. ed. perform'd.
An Hymne in Honour of Beautie v. 171, affections (ed. 1611), orig. ed.
affection.
APPENDIX II.
_To the Worshipfull, his very singular good friend,
Maister G. H., Fellow of Trinitie Hall in Cambridge._ *
[* Reprinted from "Ancient Critical Essays upon English Poets
and Poesy. Edited by Joseph Haslewood". Vol II]
GOOD MAISTER G.:--
I perceiue, by your most curteous and frendly letters, your good will to
be no lesse in deed than I alwayes esteemed. In recompence wherof,
think, I beseech you, that I wil spare neither speech, nor wryting, nor
aught else, whensoeuer and wheresoeuer occasion shal be offred me; yea,
I will not stay till it be offred, but will seeke it in al that possibly
I may. And that you may perceiue how much your counsel in al things
preuaileth with me, and how altogither I am ruled and ouer-ruled
thereby, I am now determined to alter mine owne former purpose, and to
subscribe to your advizement; being, notwithstanding, resolued stil to
abide your farther resolution. My principal doubts are these. First, I
was minded for a while to haue intermitted the vttering of my writings;
leaste by ouer-much cloying their noble eares, I should gather a
contempt of myself, or else seeme rather for game and commoditie to doe
it, for some sweetnesse that I haue already tasted. Then also me seemeth
the work too base for his excellent lordship, being made in honour of a
priuate personage vnknowne, which of some ylwillers might be vpbraided,
not to be so worthie as you knowe she is; or the matter not so weightie
that it should be offred to so weightie a personage, or the like. The
selfe former title still liketh me well ynough, and your fine addition
no lesse. If these and the like doubtes maye be of importaunce, in your
seeming, to frustrate any parte of your aduice, I beeseeche you without
the leaste selfe loue of your own purpose, councell me for the beste:
and the rather doe it faithfullye and carefully, for that, in all
things, I attribute so muche to your iudgement, that I am euermore
content to adnihilate mine owne determinations in respecte thereof. And,
indeede, for your selfe to, it sitteth with you now to call your wits &
senses togither (which are alwaies at call) when occasion is so fairely
offered of estimation and preferment, For whiles the yron is hote it is
good striking, and minds of nobles varie, as their estates. _Verum ne
quid durius._