The Shorter Poems

by Edmund Spenser

  The fruitfull spawne of their ranke fantasies:

  They feede the eares of fooles with flattery,

  And good men blame, and losels magnify:

  325

  All places they doo with their toyes possesse,

  And raigne in liking of the multitude,

  The schooles they fill with fond newfanglenesse,

  And sway in Court with pride and rashnes rude;

  Mongst simple shepheards they do boast their skill,

  330

  And say their musicke matcheth Phœbus quill.

  The noble hearts to pleasures they allure,

  And tell their Prince that learning is but vaine,

  Faire Ladies loues they spot with thoughts impure,

  And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine:

  335

  Clerks they to loathly idlenes entice,

  And fill their bookes with discipline of vice.

  So euery where they rule and tyrannize,

  For their vsurped kingdomes maintenaunce,

  The whiles we silly Maides, whom they dispize,

  340

  And with reprochfull scorne discountenaunce,

  From our owne natiue heritage exilde,

  Walk through the world of euery one reuilde.

  Nor anie one doth care to call vs in,

  Or once vouchsafeth vs to entertaine,

  345

  Vnlesse some one perhaps of gentle kin,

  For pitties sake compassion our paine,

  And yeeld vs some reliefe in this distresse:

  Yet to be so relieu’d is wretchednesse.

  So wander we all carefull comfortlesse,

  350

  Yet none doth care to comfort vs at all;

  So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse,

  Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call:

  Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine,

  Because none liuing pittieth our paine.

  355

  With that she wept and wofullie waymented,

  That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie;

  And all the rest her dolefull din augmented,

  With shrikes and groanes and grieuous agonie.

  So ended shee: and then the next in rew,

  360

  Began her piteous plaint as doth ensew.

  Erato

  Ye gentle Spirits breathing from aboue,

  Where ye in Venus siluer bowre were bred,

  Thoughts halfe deuine full of the fire of loue,

  With beawtie kindled and with pleasure fed,

  365

  Which ye now in securitie possesse,

  Forgetfull of your former heauinesse:

  Now change the tenor of your ioyous layes,

  With which ye vse your loues to deifie,

  And blazon foorth an earthlie beauties praise,

  370

  Aboue the compasse of the arched skie:

  Now change your praises into piteous cries,

  And Eulogies turne into Elegies.

  Such as ye wont whenas those bitter stounds

  Of raging loue first gan you to torment,

  375

  And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds

  Of secret sorrow and sad languishment,

  Before your Loues did take you vnto grace;

  Those now renew as fitter for this place.

  For I that rule in measure moderate

  380

  The tempest of that stormie passion,

  And vse to paint in rimes the troublous state

  Of Louers life in likest fashion,

  Am put from practise of my kindlie skill,

  Banisht by those that Loue with leawdnes fill.

  385

  Loue wont to be schoolmaster of my skill,

  And the deuicefull matter of my song;

  Sweete Loue deuoyd of villanie or ill,

  But pure and spotles, as at first he sprong

  Out of th’Almighties bosome, where he nests;

  390

  From thence infused into mortall brests.

  Such high conceipt of that celestiall fire,

  The base-borne brood of blindnes cannot gesse,

  Ne euer dare their dunghill thoughts aspire

  Vnto so loftie pitch of perfectnesse,

  395

  But rime at riot, and doo rage in loue;

  Yet little wote what doth thereto behoue.

  Faire Cytheree the Mother of delight,

  And Queene of beautie, now thou maist go pack;

  For lo thy Kingdome is defaced quight,

  400

  Thy scepter rent, and power put to wrack;

  And thy gay Sonne, that winged God of Loue,

  May now goe prune his plumes like ruffed Doue.

  And ye three Twins to light by Venus brought,

  The sweete companions of the Muses late,

  405

  From whom what euer thing is goodly thought

  Doth borrow grace, the fancie to aggrate;

  Go beg with vs, and be companions still

  As heretofore of good, so now of ill.

  For neither you nor we shall anie more

  410

  Finde entertainment, or in Court or Schoole:

  For that which was accounted heretofore

  The learneds meed, is now lent to the foole;

  He sings of loue, and maketh louing layes,

  And they him heare, and they him highly prayse.

  415

  With that she powred foorth a brackish flood

  Of bitter teares, and made exceeding mone;

  And all her Sisters seeing her sad mood,

  With lowd laments her answered all at one.

  So ended she: and then the next in rew

  420

  Began her grieuous plaint, as doth ensew.

  Calliope

  To whom shall I my euill case complaine,

  Or tell the anguish of my inward smart,

  Sith none is left to remedie my paine,

  Or deignes to pitie a perplexed hart;

  425

  But rather seekes my sorrow to augment

  With fowle reproach, and cruell banishment.

  For they to whom I vsed to applie

  The faithfull seruice of my learned skill,

  The goodly off-spring of Ioues progenie,

  430

  That wont the world with famous acts to fill;

  Whose liuing praises in heroïck style,

  It is my chiefe profession to compyle.

  They all corrupted through the rust of time,

  That doth all fairest things on earth deface,

  435

  Or through vnnoble sloth, or sinfull crime,

  That doth degenerate the noble race;

  Haue both desire of worthie deeds forlorne,

  And name of learning vtterly doo scorne.

  Ne doo they care to haue the auncestrie

  440

  Of th’old Heroes memorizde anew,

  Ne doo they care that late posteritie

  Should know their names, or speak their praises dew:

  But die forgot from whence at first they sprong,

  As they themselues shalbe forgot ere long.

  445

  What bootes it then to come from glorious

  Forefathers, or to haue been nobly bredd?

  What oddes twixt Irus and old Inachus,

  Twixt best and worst, when both alike are dedd;

  If none of neither mention should make,

  450

  Nor out of dust their memories awake?

  Or who would euer care to doo braue deed,

  Or striue in vertue others to excell;

  If none should yeeld him his deserued meed,

  Due praise, that is the spur of dooing well?

  455

  For if good were not praised more than ill,

  None would choose goodnes of his owne freewill.

  Therefore
the nurse of vertue I am hight,

  And golden Trompet of eternitie,

  That lowly thoughts lift vp to heauens hight,

  460

  And mortall men haue powre to deifie:

  Bacchus and Hercules I raisd to heauen,

  And Charlemaine, amongst the Starris seauen.

  But now I will my golden Clarion rend,

  And will henceforth immortalize no more:

  465

  Sith I no more finde worthie to commend

  For prize of value, or for learned lore:

  For noble Peeres whom I was wont to raise,

  Now onely seeke for pleasure, nought for praise.

  Their great reuenues all in sumptuous pride

  470

  They spend, that nought to learning they may spare;

  And the rich fee which Poets wont diuide,

  Now Parasites and Sycophants doo share:

  Therefore I mourne and endlesse sorrow make,

  Both for my selfe and for my Sisters sake.

  475

  With that she lowdly gan to waile and shrike,

  And from her eyes a sea of teares did powre,

  And all her sisters with compassion like,

  Did more increase the sharpnes of her showre.

  So ended she: and then the next in rew

  480

  Began her plaint, as doth herein ensew.

  Vrania.

  What wrath of Gods, or wicked influence

  Of Starres conspiring wretched men t’afflict,

  Hath powrd on earth this noyous pestilence,

  That mortall mindes doth inwardly infect

  485

  With loue of blindnesse and of ignorance,

  To dwell in darkenesse without souenance?

  What difference twixt man and beast is left,

  When th’heauenlie light of knowledge is put out,

  And th’ornaments of wisdome are bereft?

  490

  Then wandreth he in error and in doubt,

  Vnweeting of the danger hee is in,

  Through fleshes frailtie and deceipt of sin.

  In this wide world in which they wretches stray,

  It is the onelie comfort which they haue,

  495

  It is their light, their loadstarre and their day;

  But hell and darkenesse and the grislie graue

  Is ignorance, the enemie of grace,

  That mindes of men borne heauenlie doth debace.

  Through knowledge we behold the worlds creation,

  500

  How in his cradle first he fostred was;

  And iudge of Natures cunning operation,

  How things she formed of a formelesse mas:

  By knowledge wee do learne our selues to knowe,

  And what to man, and what to God wee owe.

  505

  From hence wee mount aloft vnto the skie,

  And looke into the Christall firmament,

  There we behold the heauens great Hierarchie,

  The Starres pure light, the Spheres swift mouement,

  The Spirites and Intelligences fayre,

  510

  And Angels waighting on th’Almighties chayre.

  And there with humble minde and high insight,

  Th’eternall Makers maiestie wee viewe,

  His loue, his truth, his glorie, and his might,

  And mercie more than mortall men can vew.

  515

  O soueraigne Lord, O soueraigne happinesse

  To see thee, and thy mercie measurelesse:

  Such happines haue they, that doo embrace

  The precepts of my heauenlie discipline;

  But shame and sorrow and accursed case

  520

  Haue they, that scorne the schoole of arts diuine,

  And banish me, which do professe the skill

  To make men heauenly wise, through humbled will.

  How euer yet they mee despise and spight,

  I feede on sweet contentment of my thought,

  525

  And please my selfe with mine owne selfe-delight,

  In contemplation of things heauenlie wrought:

  So loathing earth, I looke vp to the sky,

  And being driuen hence I thether fly.

  Thence I behold the miserie of men,

  530

  Which want the blis that wisedom would them breed,

  And like brute beasts doo lie in loathsome den,

  Of ghostly darkenes, and of gastlie dreed:

  For whom I mourne and for my selfe complaine,

  And for my Sisters eake whom they disdaine.

  535

  With that shee wept and waild so pityouslie,

  As if her eyes had beene two springing wells:

  And all the rest her sorrow to supplie,

  Did throw forth shrieks and cries and dreery yells.

  So ended shee, and then the next in rew,

  540

  Began her mournfull plaint as doth ensew.

  Polyhymnia.

  A dolefull case desires a dolefull song,

  Without vaine art or curious complements,

  And squallid Fortune into basenes flong,

  Doth scorne the pride of wonted ornaments.

  545

  Then fittest are these ragged rimes for mee,

  To tell my sorrowes that exceeding bee:

  For the sweet numbers and melodious measures,

  With which I wont the winged words to tie,

  And make a tunefull Diapase of pleasures,

  550

  Now being let to runne at libertie

  By those which haue no skill to rule them right,

  Haue now quite lost their naturall delight.

  Heapes of huge words vphoorded hideously,

  With horrid sound though hauing little sence,

  555

  They thinke to be chiefe praise of Poetry;

  And thereby wanting due intelligence,

  Haue mard the face of goodly Poësie,

  And made a monster of their fantasie:

  Whilom in ages past none might professe

  560

  But Princes and high Priests that secret skill,

  The sacred lawes therein they wont expresse,

  And with deepe Oracles their verses fill:

  Then was shee held in soueraigne dignitie,

  And made the noursling of Nobilitie.

  565

  But now nor Prince nor Priest doth her maintayne,

  But suffer her prophaned for to bee

  Of the base vulgar, that with hands vncleane

  Dares to pollute her hidden mysterie;

  And treadeth vnder foote hir holie things,

  570

  Which was the care of Kesars and of Kings.

  One onelie liues, her ages ornament,

  And myrrour of her Makers maiestie;

  That with rich bountie and deare cherishment,

  Supports the praise of noble Poësie:

  575

  Ne onelie fauours them which it professe,

  But is her selfe a peereles Poëtresse.

  Most peereles Prince, most peereles Poëtresse,