Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

Great Medices a list (for triumphs) built,

  within the which, vpon a tree of gilt,

  with thousand sundry rare deuises set,)

  I did erect thy louely counterfet,

  To aunswere those Italian Dames desire,

  which daily came thy beautie to admire.

  By which my Lyon in his gaping iawes

  Holdeth my Launce, and in his dreadfull pawes,

  Reacheth my Gauntlet vnto him that dare

  A beauty with my Geraldines compare.

  which when each manly valiant arme assayes,

  After so many braue tryumphant dayes,

  The glorious prize vpon my Launce I bare,

  By Heralds voyce proclaim’d to be thy share;

  The shiuered staues here for thy beautie broke,

  with fierce encounters past at euery shock,

  when stormie courses answered cuffe for cuffe,

  Denting proude Beuers with the counter-buffe,

  Vpon an Altar burnt with holy flame,

  And sacrifiz’d as ensence to thy fame.

  Where, as the Phenix from her spiced fume,

  Renues herselfe in that she doth consume,

  So from these sacred ashes liue we both,

  Euen as that one Arabian wonder doth.

  When to my chamber I my selfe retire,

  Burnt with the sparks that kindled all this fire,

  Thinking of England which my hope containes,

  The happy Ile where Geraldine remaines,

  Of Honsdon where, those sweet celestiall eyne,

  At first did pierce this tender breast of mine;

  Of Hampton Court, and Windsore, where abound,

  All pleasures that in Paradice were found;

  Neere that faire Castell is a little groue,

  with hanging rocks all couered from aboue,

  which on the banck of louely Thames doth stand,

  Clip’d by the water from the other Land,

  whose bushie top doth bid the sunne forbeare,

  And checks those proud beames that would enter there,

  whose leaues still muttering as the ayre doth breath,

  with the sweet bubling of the streame beneath,

  Doth rock the sences (whilst the small birds sing,)

  Lulled a sleepe with gentle murmuring,

  where light-foote Fayries sport at prison base,

  No doubt there is some power frequents the place,

  There the soft popler and smooth beech doe beare,

  Our names together carued euery where,

  And Gordian knots doe curiously entwine,

  The names of Henry, and of Geraldine.

  O let this Groue in happy times to come,

  Be call’d, The Louers bless’d Elizium,

  whether my Mistres wonted to resort,

  In Sommers heate, in pleasant shades to sport,

  A thousand sundry names I haue it giuen,

  And cald it Wonder-hider, Cou•• heauen,

  The roofe where beauty her rich doth keepe,

  Vnder whose compasse all the starres doe sleepe.

  There is one tree, which now I call to minde,

  Doth beare these verses carued in his rinde,

  When Geraldine shall sit in thy faire shade,

  Fan her sweet tresses with perfumed ayre,

  Let thy large boughes a Canapie be made,

  To keepe the Sunne from gazing on my faire,

  And when thy spredding branched armes be suncke,

  And thou no sap nor pith shalt more retaine,

  Eu’n from the dust of thy vnwieldy Truncke,

  I will renue thee Phoenix-like againe,

  And from thy dry decayed roote will bring,

  A new-borne Stem, another Aesons’ spring.

  I finde no cause, nor iudge I reason why

  My country should giue place to Lumbardy;

  As goodly flowers on Thamisis doe grow,

  As beautifie the banks of wanton Poo;

  As many Nymphs as haunt rich Arnus strand,

  By siluer Sabrine tripping hand in hand.

  Our shades as sweet, though not to vs so deere,

  Because the sunne hath greater power heere,

  This distant place but giues me greater woe,

  Far off, my sighes the farther haue to goe.

  Ah absence why, thus shouldst thou seeme so long?

  Or wherefore shouldst thou offer time such wrong?

  Summer so soone, should steale on winters cold,

  Or winters blasts, so soone make summer old?

  Loue did vs both with one selfe arrow strike,

  Our wounds both one, our •ure should be the like,

  Except thou hast found out some meane by Art,

  Some powerfull medicine to withdraw the dart,

  But mine is fix’d, and absents phisick proued,

  It sticks too fast, it cannot be remooued.

  Adiew, adiew, from Florence when I goe,

  By my next letters Geraldine shall know,

  Which if good fortune shall my course direct,

  From Venice by some messenger expect,

  Till when I leaue thee to thy harts desire,

  By him that liues thy vertues to admire.

  Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

  From learned Florence, long time rich in fame.

  FLORENCE a Citty of Thuscan, standing vpon the Riuer Arnus, (celebrated by Dante, Petrarch, and other, the most noble wits of Italie,) was the originall of the familie out of which this Geraldine did spring, as Ireland the place of her birth, which is intimated by these ver•es of the Earle of Surreys.

  From Thuscan came my Ladies worthy race,

  Fayre Florence was sometime her ancient seate,

  The Westerne Ile, whose pleasant shore doth face

  Wild Cambers cliffs, did giue her liuely heate.

  Great learn’d Agrippa so profound in Art.

  Cornelius Agrippa, a man in his time so famous for magick (which the bookes published by him, concerning that argument doe partlie proue) as in this place needs no further remembrance. Howbeit, as those abstruse and gloomy Arts are but illusions, so in the honour of so rare a Gentleman as this Earle, (and therewithall so noble a Poet) (a qualitie by which his other titles receiue their greatest luster) inuention may make somewhat more bolde with Agrippa aboue the barren truth.

  That Lyon set in our bright siluer bend.

  The blazo• of the Howards honorable armour, was Gules betweene sixe crosselets Fitches a bend Argent, to which afterwardes was added by atchiuement, In the Canton point of the bend an escutcheon, or within the Scottish tressure a Dem••ion rampant Gules &c. as Maister Camden now Clarenceaulx from authoritie noteth. Neuer shall time nor bitter enuy be able to obscure the brightnes of so great a victory as that for which this addition was obtained. The Historian of Scotland George Beuchanan reporteth, that the Earle of Surrey gaue for his badge a siluer Lyon, (which from antiquitie belonged to that name) tearing in peeces A Lyon prostrate Gules, and withall that this which he termes insolencie, was punished in him & his posterity, as if it were fatall to the conquerour to doe his soueraigne such loyall seruice as a thousand such seuere censurers were neuer able to performe.

  Since Scottish blood discoloured Floden field.

  The battell was fought at Bramstone neere to Flodden hill beeing a part of the Cheuiot, a mountaine that exceedeth all the mountaines in the North of England for bignes, in which the wilfull periurie of Iames the fifth was punished from heauen by the Earle of Surrey, being left by King Henry the eyght (then in Fraunce before Turwin) for the desence of his Realme.

  Nor beautious Stanhope, whom all tongues report

  To be the glory &c.

  Of the beautie of that Lady, he himselfe testifies in an Elegie which he writ of her refusing to daunce with him, which he seemeth to alegorize vnder a Lyon and a Wolfe. And of himselfe he saith.

  A Lyon saw I late, as white as any snow.

  And of her.

 
I might perceiue a Wolfe as white as Whalls bone,

  A fairer beast, of fresher hue, beheld I neuer none,

  But that her lookes were coy, and froward was her grace.

  And famous Wyat who in numbers sings

  Sir Thomas Wyat the elder, a most excellent Poet, as his Poems extant doe witnes, besides certaine Encomions written by the Earle of Surrey vpon some of Dauids Psalmes, by him translated.

  What holy graue, what worthy Sepulcher,

  To wyats Psalmes shall Christians purchase then.

  And afterward vpon his death the said Earle writeth thus.

  What vertues rare were tempred in thy brest?

  Honour that England such a Iewell bred,

  And kisse the ground whereas thy corps did rest.

  At Honsdon, where those sweet celestiall eyne,

  It is manifest by a Sonnet written by this noble Earle, that the first time he beheld his Lady, was at Hunsdon.

  Honsdon did first present her to mine eyne,

  Which Sonnet beeing altogether a description of his loue, I do alledge in diuers places of this glosse, as proofes of what I write.

  Of Hampton Court and Windsore where abound,

  All pleasures, &c.

  That hee enioyed the presence of his faire and vertuous mistris, in those two places, by reason of queene Katherines vsuall aboad there, (on whom this Lady Geraldiue was attending) I proue by these yerses of his.

  Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine,

  Winsor alas doth chase me from her sight.

  And in another Sonnet following.

  When Winsor walls sustaind my wearied arme,

  My hand my chin, to ease my restles head.

  And that his delight might draw him to compare Winsor to Paradice, an Elegy may proue, where he remembreth his passed pleasures in that place.

  With a Kings sonne my childish yeeres I pass’d,

  In greater feast then Priams sonne of Troy:

  And againe in the same Elegie.

  Those large greene Courts, where we were wont to roue,

  With eyes cast vp vnto the maydens Tower,

  With easie sighs, such as men draw in loue.

  And againe in the same.

  The statelie seats, the Ladies bright of hue.

  The dances short, long tales of sweet delight.

  And for the pleasant•es of the place, these verses of his may tosusie in the same Elegie before recited.

  The secret groues which we haue made resound,

  With siluer drops the meads yet spread for ruth,

  As goodly flowers from Thamisis doe grow. &c.

  I had thought in this place not to haue spoken of Thames beeing so oft remembred by me before in sundry other places on this occasion: but thinking of that excellent Epigram, which as I iudge either to be done by the said Earle or Sir Frauncis Brian: for the woorthinesse thereof I will heere insett, which as it seemes to me was compi•ed at the Authors beeing in Spayne.

  Tagus farewell, which Westward with thy streames,

  Turn’st vp the graines of gold already tride,

  For I with spur and sayle goe seeke the Thames,

  Against the sun that shewes her wealthy pride;

  And to the towne that Brutus sought by dreames,

  Like bended Moone that leanes her lustie side,

  To seeke my Country now, for whom I liue,

  O mighty Ioue, for this the winds mee giue.

  FINIS.

  Geraldine to Henry Howard Earle of Surrey.

  SVCH greeting as the noble Surrey sends,

  The same to thee thy Geraldine commends;

  A maydens thoughts doe check my trembling hand,

  On other termes, or complements to stand,

  which (might my speech be as my hart affords)

  Should come attired in farre richer words;

  But all is one, my faith as firme shall proue,

  As hers that makes the greatest show of loue.

  In Cupids Schoole I neuer read those bookes,

  whose lectures oft we practise in our lookes,

  Nor euer did suspitions riuall eye,

  Yet lie in waite my fauours to espie,

  My virgine thoughts are innocent and meeke,

  As the chast blushes sitting on my cheeke:

  As in a Feauer I doe shiuer yet,

  Since first my penne was to the paper set.

  If I doe erre, you know my sexe is weake,

  Feare proues a fault, where mayds are forc’d to speake•

  Doe I not ill? ah sooth me not heerein,

  O, if I doe, reproue me of my sinne,

  Chide me infaith, or if my fault you hide,

  My tongue will teach my selfe, my selfe to chide.

  Nay noble Surrey, blot it if thou wilt,

  Then too much boldnes should returne my guilt;

  For that should be euen from our selues conceal’d,

  which is disclosd, if to our thoughts reueal’d,

  For the least motion, more the smallest breath

  That may impeach our modestie, is death,

  The Page that brought thy Letters to my hand,

  (Me thinks) should meruaile at my strange demaund,

  For till he blush’d, I did not yet espie,

  The nakednes of my immodestie,

  which in my face he greater might haue seene,

  But that my fanne I quickly put betweene;

  Yet scarcely that my inward guilt could hide,

  Feare seeing all, feares it of all espide.

  Like to a Taper lately burning bright,

  Now wanting matter to maintaine his light.

  The blaze a•cending forced by the smoke,

  Liuing by that which seekes the same to choke;

  The flame still hanging in the ayre doth burne,

  Vntill drawne downe, it back againe returne.

  Then cleere, then dim, then spreadeth, and then closeth,

  Now getteth strength, and now his brightnes looseth.

  As well the best discerning eye may doubt,

  Whether it yet be in, or whether out:

  Thus in my cheeke my diuers passions show’d,

  Now ashy pale, and now againe it glow’d;

  If in your verse there be a power to moue,

  It’s you alone who are the cause I loue,

  It’s you bewitch my bosome by mine eare,

  Vnto that end I did not place you there.

  Ayres to asswage the bloody Souldiors mind,

  Poore women we are naturally kind.

  Perhaps yow’ll thinke that I these termes enforce,

  For that in Court this kindnes is of course,

  Or that it is that honey-steeped gall,

  we oft are said to bayte our loues withall,

  That in one eye we carry strong desire,

  The other drops which quickly quench the fire,

  Ah what so false can Enuie speake of vs,

  But shall finde some too vainly credulous?

  I doe not so, and to adde proofe thereto,

  I loue in faith, in faith sweet Lord I do;

  Nor let the enuie of enuenom’d tongues,

  which still is grounded on poore Ladies wrongs,

  Thy noble breast diasterly possesse,

  By any doubt to make my loue the lesse:

  My house from Florence I doe not pretend,

  Nor from Giraldi claime I to descend,

  Nor hold those honours insufficient are,

  That I receiue from Desmond or Kyldare;

  Nor adde I greater worth vnto my blood,

  Than Irish milke to giue me Infant food,

  Nor better ayre will euer boast to breathe,

  Then that of Lenster, Mounster, or of Meathe,

  Nor craue I other forraine farre alies,

  Then Windsor or Fitz-geralds families.

  It is enough to leaue vnto my heires,

  If they will but acknowledge me for theirs.

  To what place euer did the Court remoue
,

  But that the house giues matter to my loue,

  At Windsor still I see thee sit and walke,

  There mount thy courser, there deuise, there talk:

  The roabes, the garter, and the state of Kings,

  Into my thoughts thy hoped greatnes brings;

  Nonsuch, the name imports (me thinks) so much,

  None such as thou, nor as my Lord, none such,

  In Hamptons great magnificence I finde,

  The liuely image of thy Princely minde;

  Faire Richmonds towers like goodly pillers stand

  Rear’d by the power of thy victorious hand;

  Whitehalls tryumphing Galleries are yet,

  Adorn’d with rich deuises of thy wit,

  In Greenwich yet as in a glasse I view,

  where last thou badst thy Geraldine adiew,

  with euerie little gentle breath that blowes,

  How are my thoughts confus’d with ioyes and woes,

  As through a gate, so through my longing eares,

  Passe to my hart whole multitude of feares;

  O in a map that I might see thee show,

  The place where now in daunger thou dost goe;

  In sweet discourse to trauaile with our eye,

  Romania, Tuscaine, and faire Lumbardy

  Or with thy penne exactly to set downe,

  The modell of that Tempell or that Towne,

  And to relate at large where thou hast beene,

  And there, & there, & what thou there hast seen.

  Or to describe by figure of thy hand,

  There Naples lies, and there doth Florence stand;

  Or as the Grecians finger dip’d in wine,

  Drawing a Riuer in a little line,

  And with a drop, a gulfe to figure out,

  To modell Venice moted round about;

  Then ading more, to counterfet a Sea,

  And draw the front of stately Genoa.

  These from thy lips were like harmonious tones,

  which now doe sound like Mandrakes dreadfull grones.

  Some trauell hence t’enrich their minds with skill,

  Leaue heere their good, and bring home others ill:

  which seeme to like all countries but their owne,

  Affecting most where they the least are knowne.

  Their leg, their thigh, their backe, their necke, their head,

  There form’d, there fetch’d, there found, there borrowed.

  In their attire, their iesture, and their gate,

  Fond in each one, in all Italionate.

  Italian, French, Dutch, Spanish altogether,

  Yet not all these, nor one entirely neyther.

  So well in all deformitie in fashion,