Michael Drayton- Collected Poetical Works

by Michael Drayton

Borrowing a limme of euery seuerall Nation,

  And nothing more then England hold in scorne,

  So liue as strangers where as they were borne.

  But thy returne in this I doe not reed,

  Thou art a perfect Gentleman indeed;

  O God forbid that Howards noble line,

  From auncient vertue should so farre decline,

  The Muses traine (whereof your selfe are chiefe)

  Onely with me participate their griefe:

  To sooth their humours, I doe lend them eares,

  He giues a Poet, that his verses heares.

  Till thy returne, by hope they onely liue,

  Yet had they all, they all away would giue;

  The world and they, so ill according bee,

  That wealth and Poets neuer can agree.

  Few liue in Court that of their good haue care,

  The Muses friends are euery where so rare;

  Some praise thy worth, thy worth that neuer know,

  Onely because the better sort doe so,

  whose iudgement neuer further doth extend,

  Then it doth please the greatest to commend,

  So great an ill vpon desert doth chaunce,

  when it doth passe by beastly Ignorance.

  Why art thou slacke whilst no man puts his hand

  To raise the Mount where Surreys Towers must stand?

  Or who the groundsill of that worke doth lay

  whilst like a wandrer thou abroad doost stray?

  Clip’d in the armes of some lasciuious Dame,

  when thou shouldst reare an Ilion to thy name.

  When shall the Muses by faire Norwich dwell,

  To be the Citie of the learned Well?

  Or Phoebus Altars there with Incense heap’d

  As once in Cyrrha or in Thebae kept?

  Or when shall that faire hoofe-plow’d spring distill

  From great Mount Surrey, out of Leonards hill?

  Till thou returne, the Court I will exchaunge,

  For some poore cottage, or some countrey Grange,

  where to our distaues as we sit and spin,

  My mayde and I will tell of things haue bin;

  Our Lutes vnstrung shall hang vpon the wall,

  Our lessons serue to wrap our Towe withall,

  And passe the night, whilst winter tales we tell,

  Of many things that long agoe befell;

  Or tune such homely Carrols as were song

  In Countrey sports when we our selues were yong.

  In prittie Riddles to bewray our loues,

  In questions, purpose, or in drawing gloues.

  The noblest spirits to vertue most inclind,

  These heere in Court thy greatest want doe find;

  Other there be, on which we feed our eye,

  Like Arras worke, or such like Imagerie;

  Many of vs desire Queene Kathe•ines state,

  But very few her vertues imitate.

  Then as Vlisses wife write I to thee,

  Make no reply, but come thy selfe to mee.

  Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

  Then Winds•re, or Fitzgeralds families.

  THE cost of many Kings, which from time to time haue adorned the Castle at Windsor with their princely magnificence, hath made it more noble then that it neede to be spoken of now as though obscure, and I hold it more meet to refer you to our vulgar moniments for the founders and •inishers thereof, then to meddle with matter nothing neere to the purpose. As for the family of the Fitz-geralds, of whence this excellent Ladie was lineally descended, the originall was English, though the branches did spread themselues into distant places and names nothing consonant, as in former times it was vsuall to denominate themselues of their manours or forenames: as may pattly appeare in that which ensueth, the light whereof proceeded from my learned and verie woorthy friend, Maister Fra•cis Thyn•. Walter of Windsor, the sonne of Oterus, had issue William, of whom Henry now Lord Windsor is descended, and Robert of Windsor, of whom Robert the now Earle of Essex, and Gerald of Windsor his third sonne, who married the daughter of Rees the great Prince of Wales, of whom came Nesta, paramour to Henry the first. Which Gerald had issue Maurice Fitzgerald, auncestor to Thomas Fitzmaurice, Iustice of I•eland buried at Trayly; leauing issue Iohn his eldest sonne, first Earle or Kildare, ancestor to Geraldine, and Maurice his second sonne, first Earle of Desmond.

  To rayse the mount where Surreys Towers must stand,

  Alludeth to the sumptuous house which was afterward builded by him vpon Leonards hill right against Norwich, which in the rebellion of Norfolke vnder Kett, in King Edward the 6. time, was much desaced by that impure rable. Betwixt the hill and the Citie as Alexander Neuell describes it, the Riuer of Yarmouth runnes, hauing West and South thereof a wood, and a little Village called Thorp, and on the North, the pastures of Moushol which containes about sixe miles in length and breadth. So that besides the stately greatnes of Mount-Surrey, which was the houses name, the prospect and site thereof was passing pleasant and commodious; and no where else did that encreasing euill of the Norfolke furie enkennell it selfe but then there, as it were for a manifest token of their intent, to debase all high things, and to prophane all holy.

  Like Arras worke, or other imagerie.

  Such was he whom Iuvenall taxeth in this manner.

  — truncoque similimus Herme

  Null• quippe alio vincis discrimine quamquod,

  Illi marmoreum caput est, tua viuit imago.

  Beeing to be borne for nothing else but apparell and the outward appearance, intituled Complement, with whom the ridiculous fable of the Ape in Esope sorteth sitly, who comming into a Caruers house, and viewing many Marble works, tooke vp the head of a man very cunningly wrought, who greatly in praising did seeme to pittie it, that hauing so comly an outside, it had nothing within, like emptie figures walke and talke in euery place, at whom the noble Geraldi•e modestly glanceth.

  FINIS.

  To the vertuous Ladie, the Lady Frauncis Goodere, wife to Sir Henry Goodere, Knight.

  MY verie gracious and good Mistres, the loue and dutie I bare to your Father whilst hee liued now after his deceasase is to your hereditarie; to whom by the blessing of your birth he left his vertues. Who bequeathed you those which were his, gaue you whatsoeuer good is mine, as deuoted to his, he being gone, whom I honoured so much whilst hee liued; which you may iustly challenge by all lawes of thankefulnes. My selfe hauing beene a witnes of your excellent education, and mild disposition (as I may say) euer from your Cradle, dedicate this Epistle of this vertuous and goodly Ladie to your selfe; so like her in all perfection, both of wisedome and learning, which I pray you accept, til time shall enable me to leaue you some greater monument of my loue.

  Mich: Drayton.

  The Ladie Iane Gray to the Lord Gilford Dudley.

  THE ARGUMENT.

  After the death of that vertuous young Prince King Edward the sixt, the sonne of that famous King Henry the eight, Iane the daughter of Henry Gray, Duke of Suffolke by the consent of Iohn Dudley Duke of Northumberland, was proclaimed Queene of England, being married to Gilford Dudley, the fourth sonne of the fore-said Duke of Northumberland; which match was concluded by their ambitious Fathers, who, went about by this meanes to bring the Crowne vnto their children, and to dispossesse the Princesse Mary, eldest daughter of King Henry the eight, •eire to King Edward her brother. Queene Mary rising in Armes to claime her rightfull crowne, taketh the said Iane Gray, and the Lord Gilford her husband, beeing lodged in the Tower for their more safetie, which place being lastly their Pallace, by this meanes became their prison; where being seuered in sundry prisons, they write these Epistles one to another.

  MINE own deere Lord, sith thou art lock’d from mee,

  In this disguise my loue must steale to thee,

  Since to renue all loues, all kindnes past,

  This refuge scarcely left, yet this the last.

  My Keeper comming, I of thee enquire,

 
who with thy greeting aunswers my desire;

  which my tongue willing to returne againe,

  Griefe stops my words, and I but striue in vaine;

  where-with amaz’d, away in hast he goes,

  when through my lips, my hart thrusts forth my woes;

  when as the doores that make a dolefull sound,

  Driue backe my words, that in the noyse are drownd,

  which some-what hush’d, the eccho doth record,

  And twice or thrice reiterates my word,

  when like an aduerse winde in Isis course,

  Against the tyde bending his boystrous force;

  But when the flood hath wrought it selfe about,

  He following on, doth head-long thrust it out;

  Thus striue my sighes with teares ere they begin,

  And breaking out, againe sighes driue them in.

  A thousand formes present my troubled thought,

  Yet proue abortiue when they forth are brought,

  From strongest woe, we hardly language wrest,

  The depth of griefe, with words are sounded least,

  As teares doe fall and rise, sighes come and goe,

  So doe these numbers ebb, so doe they flow.

  These briny teares doe make my Incke looke pale,

  My Inck clothes teares in this sad mourning vaile,

  The letters mourners, weepe with my dim eye,

  The paper pale, greeu’d at my misery.

  Yet miserable our selues, why should we deeme?

  Sith none is so, but in his owne esteeme;

  Who in distresse, from resolution flies,

  Is rightly said to yeeld to miseries;

  They which begot vs, did beget this sin,

  They first begun, what did our griefe begin,

  wee tasted not, t’was they which did rebell,

  Not our offence, but in theyr fall we fell;

  They which a Crowne would to my Lord haue linck’d,

  A•ll hope, all life, all libertie extinct;

  A subiect borne, a Soueraigne to haue beene,

  Hath made me now, nor subiect, nor a Queene.

  Ah vile ambition, how doost thou deceaue vs,

  which shew’st vs heauen, and yet in hell doost leaue vs?

  Sildome vntouch’d doth innocence escape,

  when error commeth in good counsailes shape,

  A lawfull title counterchecks proude might,

  The weakest things become strong props to right;

  Then my deere Lord, although affliction grieue vs,

  Yet let our spotlesse innocence relieue vs.

  Death but an acted passion doth appeare,

  where truth giues courage, and the conscience cleere,

  And let thy comfort thus consist in mine,

  That I beare part of whatsoere is thine;

  As when we liu’d vntouch’d with these disgraces,

  when as our kingdome was our sweet embraces;

  At Durham Pallace• where sweet Hymen sang,

  whose buildings with our nuptiall musick rang?

  when Prothalamions praysd that happy day,

  wherein great Dudley match’d with noble Gray,

  when they deuisd to linck by wedlocks band,

  The house of suffolke to Northumberland;

  Our fatall Dukedom to your Dukedome bound,

  To frame this building on so weake a ground•

  For what auailes a lawlesse vsurpation?

  which giues a scepter, but not rules a nation,

  Onely the surfeit of a vaine opinion,

  what giues content, giues what exceeds dominion.

  When first mine eares were persed with the fame,

  Of Iane proclaimed by a Princesse name,

  A suddaine fright my trembling hart appalls,

  The feare of conscience entreth yron walls.

  Thrice happy for our Fathers had it beene,

  If what we fear’d, they wisely had fore-seene,

  And kept a meane gate in an humble path,

  To haue escap’d these furious tempests wrath.

  The Cedar-building Eagle heares the wind,

  And not the Faulcon, though both Hawkes by kind;

  That kingly bird doth from the clowdes commaund,

  The fearefull foule that moues but neere the Land,

  Though Mary be from mightie Kings descended,

  My blood not from Plantaginet pretended;

  My Gransire Brandon did our house aduaunce,

  By princely Mary, Dowager of Fraunce;

  The fruite of that faire stocke which did combine,

  And Yorks sweet branch with Lancasters entwine,

  And in one stalke did happily vnite,

  The pure vermilion Rose, with purer white;

  I the vntimely slip of that rich stem,

  whose golden bud brings forth a Diadem.

  But oh forgiue me Lord, it is not I,

  Nor doe I boast of this, but learne to die,

  whilst we were as our selues conioyned then,

  Nature to nature, now an alien.

  The purest blood, polluted is in blood,

  Neerenes contemn’d, if soueraignty withstood;

  A Diadem once dazeling the eye,

  The day too darke to see affinitie;

  And where the arme is stretch’d to reach a Crowne,

  Friendship is broke, the deerest things throwne downe;

  For what great Henry most stroue to auoyde,

  The heauens haue built, where earth would haue destroyd,

  And seating Edward on his regall throne,

  He giues to Mary, all that was his owne,

  By death assuring what by life is theyrs,

  The lawfull claime of Henries lawfull heyres.

  By mortall lawes, the bound may be diuorc’d,

  But heauens decree, by no meanes can be forc’d,

  That rules the case, when men haue all decreed,

  who tooke him hence, foresaw who should succeede,

  In vaine be counsels, statutes, humaine lawes,

  when chiefe of counsailes pleades the iustest cause;

  Thus rule the heauens in theyr continuall course,

  That yeelds to fate, that doth not yeeld to force.

  Mans wit doth build for time but to deuoure,

  But vertu’s free from time and fortunes power;

  Then my kinde Lord, sweet Gilford be not grieu’d,

  The soule is heauenly, and from heauen relieu’d;

  And as we once haue plighted troth together,

  Now let vs make exchange of mindes to eyther;

  To thy faire breast take my resolued minde,

  Arm’d against blacke dispayre, and all her kinde,

  And to my bosome breathe that soule of thine,

  There to be made as perfect as is mine;

  So shall our faith as firmely be approued,

  As I of thee, or thou of me beloued.

  This life no life, wert thou not deere to mee,

  Nor this no death, were I not woe for thee.

  Thou my deere husband, and my Lord before,

  But truly learne to die, thou shalt be more.

  Now liue by prayer, on heauen fixe all thy thought,

  And surely finde, what ere by zeale is sought;

  For each good motion that the soule awakes,

  A heauenly figure sees, from whence it takes

  That sweet resemblance, which by power of kinde,

  Formes (like it selfe) an Image in the minde,

  And in our faith the operations bee,

  Of that diuinenes, which by fayth we see;

  which neuer errs, but accidentally,

  By our fraile fleshes imbecillitie;

  By each temptation ouer-apt to slide,

  Except our spirit becomes our bodies guide;

  For as our bodies prisons, be these towers,

  So to our soules, these bodies be of ours;

  whose fleshly walls hinder that heauenly light,

  As
these of stone depriue our wished sight,

  Death is the key which vnlocks miserie,

  And lets them out to blessed libertie.

  Then draw thy forces all vnto thy hart,

  The strongest fortresse of this earthly part;

  And on these three let thy assurance lie,

  On fayth, repentance, and humilitie;

  Humilitie to heauen, the step, the staire,

  Is for deuotion, sacrifice, and Prayer;

  The next place doth to true repentance fall,

  A salue, a comfort, and a cordiall;

  He that hath that, the keyes of heauen hath,

  That is the guide, that is the port, the path;

  Faith, is thy fort, thy shield, thy strongest ayde,

  Neuer controld, nere yeelded, nere dismaid,

  which doth dilate, vnfold, fore-tell, expresseth.

  which giues, rewards, inuesteth, and possesseth.

  Then thanke the heauen, preparing vs this roome,

  Crowning our heads with glorious martirdome,

  Before the blacke and dismall dayes begin,

  The dayes of all Idolatry and sin,

  Not suffering vs to see that wicked age,

  when persecution vehemently shall rage,

  when tyrannie new tortures shall inuent,

  Inflicting vengeance on the innocent.

  Yet heauen forbids, that Maries wombe shall bring,

  Englands faire Scept•r to a forraine King,

  But vnto faire Elizabeth shall leaue it,

  which broken, hurt, and wounded, shall receaue it;

  And on her temples hauing plac’d the Crowne,

  Roote out the dregs Idolatry hath sowne;

  And Syons glory shall againe restore,

  Layd ruine, wast, and desolate before;

  And from black sinders, and rude heapes of stones,

  Shall gather vp the Martyrs scattred bones,

  And shall extirpe the power of Rome againe,

  And cast aside, the heauy yoke of Spayne.

  Farewell sweet Gilford, know our end is neere,

  Heauen is our home, we are but strangers heere.

  Let vs make hast to goe vnto the blest,

  which from these weary worldly labours rest,

  And with these lines my deerest Lord, I greete thee,

  Vntill in heauen thy Iane againe shall meete thee.

  Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

  They which begot vs, did beget this sin,

  SHEWING the ambition of the two Dukes their Fathers, whose pride was the cause of the vtter ouerthrow of theyr chyldren.