The Shorter Poems

by Edmund Spenser

What shape he list in apparition.

  That on his head he wore, and in his hand

  He tooke Caduceus his snakie wand,

  With which the damned ghosts he gouerneth,

  And furies rules, and Tartare tempereth.

  1295

  With that he causeth sleep to seize the eyes,

  And feare the harts of all his enemyes;

  And when him list, an vniuersall night

  Throughout the world he makes on euerie wight;

  As when his Syre with Alcumena lay.

  1300

  Thus dight, into the Court he tooke his way,

  Both through the gard, which neuer him descride,

  And through the watchmen, who him neuer spide:

  Thenceforth he past into each secrete part,

  Whereas he saw, that sorely grieu’d his hart;

  1305

  Each place abounding with fowle iniuries,

  And fild with treasure rackt with robberies:

  Each place defilde with blood of guiltles beasts,

  Which had been slaine, to serue the Apes beheasts;

  Gluttonie, malice, pride, and couetize,

  1310

  And lawlesnes raigning with riotize;

  Besides the infinite extortions,

  Done through the Foxes great oppressions,

  That the complaints thereof could not be tolde.

  Which when he did with lothfull eyes beholde,

  1315

  He would no more endure, but came his way,

  And cast to seeke the Lion, where he may,

  That he might worke the auengement for this shame,

  On those two caytiues, which had bred him blame.

  And seeking all the forrest busily,

  1320

  At last he found, where sleeping he did ly:

  The wicked weed, which there the Foxe did lay,

  From vnderneath his head he tooke away,

  And then him waking, forced vp to rize.

  The Lion looking vp gan him auize,

  1325

  As one late in a traunce, what had of long

  Become of him: for fantasie is strong.

  Arise (said Mercurie) thou sluggish beast,

  That here liest senseles, like the corpse deceast,

  The whilste thy kingdome from thy head is rent,

  1330

  And thy throne royall with dishonour blent:

  Arise, and doo thy selfe redeeme from shame,

  And be aueng’d on those that breed thy blame.

  Thereat enraged, soone he gan vpstart,

  Grinding his teeth, and grating his great hart,

  1335

  And rouzing vp himselfe, for his rough hide

  He gan to reach; but no where it espide.

  Therewith he gan full terribly to rore,

  And chafte at that indignitie right sore.

  But when his Crowne and scepter both he wanted,

  1340

  Lord how he fum’d, and sweld, and rag’d, and panted;

  And threatned death, and thousand deadly dolours

  To them that had purloyn’d his Princely honours.

  With that in hast, disroabed as he was,

  He toward his owne Pallace forth did pas;

  1345

  And all the way he roared as he went,

  That all the forrest with astonishment

  Thereof did tremble, and the beasts therein

  Fled fast away from that so dreadfull din.

  At last he came vnto his mansion,

  1350

  Where all the gates he found fast lockt anon,

  And manie warders round about them stood:

  With that he roar’d alowd, as he were wood,

  That all the Pallace quaked at the stound,

  As if it quite were riuen from the ground,

  1355

  And all within were dead and hartles left;

  And th’Ape himselfe, as one whose wits were reft,

  Fled here and there, and euerie corner sought,

  To hide himselfe from his owne feared thought.

  But the false Foxe when he the Lion heard,

  1360

  Fled closely forth, streightway of death afeard,

  And to the Lion came, full lowly creeping,

  With fained face, and watrie eyne halfe weeping,

  T’excuse his former treason and abusion,

  And turning all vnto the Apes confusion:

  1365

  Nath’les the royall Beast forbore beleeuing,

  But bad him stay at ease till further preeuing.

  Then when he saw no entrance to him graunted,

  Roaring yet lowder that all harts it daunted,

  Vpon those gates with force he fiercely flewe,

  1370

  And rending them in pieces, felly slewe

  Those warders strange, and all that els he met.

  But th’Ape still flying, he no where might get:

  From rowme to rowme, from beame to beame he fled

  All breathles, and for feare now almost ded:

  1375

  Yet him at last the Lyon spide, and caught,

  And forth with shame vnto his iudgement brought.

  Then all the beasts he causd’ assembled bee,

  To heare their doome, and sad ensample see:

  The Foxe, first Author of that treacherie,

  1380

  He did vncase, and then away let flie.

  But th’Apes long taile (which then he had) he quight

  Cut off, and both eares pared of their hight;

  Since which, all Apes but halfe their eares haue left,

  And of their tailes are vtterlie bereft.

  1385

  So Mother Hubberd her discourse did end:

  Which pardon me, if I amisse haue pend,

  For weake was my remembrance it to hold,

  And bad her tongue that it so bluntly tolde.

  FINIS.

  Ruines of Rome: by Bellay.

  1

  Ye heauenly spirites, whose ashie cinders lie

  Vnder deep ruines, with huge walls opprest,

  But not your praise, the which shall neuer die

  Through your faire verses, ne in ashes rest;

  5

  If so be shrilling voyce of wight aliue

  May reach from hence to depth of darkest hell,

  Then let those deep Abysses open riue,

  That ye may vnderstand my shreiking yell.

  Thrice hauing seene vnder the heauens veale

  10

  Your toombs deuoted compasse ouer all,

  Thrice vnto you with lowd voyce I appeale,

  And for your antique furie here doo call,

  The whiles that I with sacred horror sing

  Your glorie, fairest of all earthly thing.

  2

  15

  Great Babylon her haughtie walls will praise,

  And sharped steeples high shot vp in ayre;

  Greece will the olde Ephesian buildings blaze;

  And Nylus nurslings their Pyramides faire;

  The same yet vaunting Greece will tell the storie

  20

  Of Ioues great Image in Olympus placed,

  Mausolus worke will be the Carians glorie,

  And Crete will boast the Labyrinth, now raced;

  The antique Rhodian will likewise set forth

  The great Colosse, erect to Memorie;

  25

  And what els in the world is of like worth,

  Some greater learned wit will magnifie.

  But I will sing aboue all moniments

  Seuen Romane Hils, the worlds seuen wonderments.

  3

  Thou stranger, which for Rome in Rome here seekest,

  30

  And nought of Rome in Rome perceiu’st at all,

  These same olde walls, olde arches, which thou seest,

  Olde Palaces, is that which Rome men call.

  Behold wha
t wreake, what ruine, and what wast,

  And how that she, which with her mightie powre

  35

  Tam’d all the world, hath tam’d herselfe at last,

  The pray of time, which all things doth deuowre.

  Rome now of Rome is th’onely funerall,

  And onely Rome of Rome hath victorie;

  Ne ought saue Tyber hastning to his fall

  40

  Remaines of all: O worlds inconstancie.

  That which is firme doth flit and fall away,

  And that is flitting, doth abide and stay.

  4

  She, whose high top aboue the starres did sore,

  One foote on Thetis, th’other on the Morning,

  45

  One hand on Scythia, th’other on the More,

  Both heauen and earth in roundnesse compassing,

  Ioue fearing, least if she should greater growe,

  The old Giants should once againe vprise,

  Her whelm’d with hills, these seuen hils, which be nowe

  50

  Tombes of her greatnes, which did threate the skies:

  Vpon her head he heapt Mount Saturnal,

  Vpon her bellie th’antique Palatine,

  Vpon her stomacke laid Mount Quirinal,

  On her left hand the noysome Esquiline,

  55

  And Cœlian on the right; but both her feete

  Mount Viminal and Auentine doo meete.

  5

  Who lists to see, what euer nature, arte,

  And heauen could doo, O Rome, thee let him see,

  In case thy greatnes he can gesse in harte,

  60

  By that which but the picture is of thee.

  Rome is no more: but if the shade of Rome

  May of the bodie yeeld a seeming sight,

  It’s like a corse drawne forth out of the tombe

  By Magicke skill out of eternall night:

  65

  The corpes of Rome in ashes is entombed,

  And her great spirite reioyned to the spirite

  Of this great masse, is in the same enwombed;

  But her braue writings, which her famous merite

  In spight of time, out of the dust doth reare,

  70

  Doo make her Idole through the world appeare.

  6

  Such as the Berecynthian Goddesse bright

  In her swift charret with high turrets crownde,

  Proud that so manie Gods she brought to light;

  Such was this Citie in her good daies fownd:

  75

  This Citie, more than that great Phrygian mother

  Renowm’d for fruite of famous progenie,

  Whose greatnes by the greatnes of none other,

  But by her selfe her equall match could see:

  Rome onely might to Rome compared bee,

  80

  And onely Rome could make great Rome to tremble:

  So did the Gods by heauenly doome decree,

  That other earthlie power should not resemble

  Her that did match the whole earths puissaunce,

  And did her courage to the heauens aduaunce.

  7

  85

  Ye sacred ruines, and ye tragick sights,

  Which onely doo the name of Rome retaine,

  Olde moniments, which of so famous sprights

  The honour yet in ashes doo maintaine:

  Triumphant Arcks, spyres neighbours to the skie,

  90

  That you to see doth th’heauen it selfe appall,

  Alas, by little ye to nothing flie,

  The peoples fable, and the spoyle of all:

  And though your frames do for a time make warre

  Gainst time, yet time in time shall ruinate

  95

  Your workes and names, and your last reliques marre.

  My sad desires, rest therefore moderate:

  For if that time make ende of things so sure,

  It als will end the paine, which I endure.

  8

  Through armes and vassals Rome the world subdu’d,

  100

  That one would weene, that one sole Cities strength

  Both land and sea in roundnes had suruew’d,

  To be the measure of her bredth and length:

  This peoples vertue yet so fruitfull was

  Of vertuous nephewes, that posteritie

  105

  Striuing in power their grandfathers to passe,

  The lowest earth, ioin’d to the heauen hie;

  To th’end that hauing all parts in their power,

  Nought from the Romane Empire might be quight,

  And that though time doth Commonwealths deuowre,

  110

  Yet no time should so low embase their hight,

  That her head earth’d in her foundations deep,

  Should not her name and endles honour keep.

  9

  Ye cruell starres, and eke ye Gods vnkinde,

  Heauen enuious, and bitter stepdame Nature,

  115

  Be it by fortune, or by course of kinde

  That ye doo weld th’affaires of earthlie creature;

  Why haue your hands long sithence traueiled

  To frame this world, that doth endure so long?

  Or why were not these Romane palaces

  120

  Made of some matter no lesse firme and strong?

  I say not, as the common voyce doth say,

  That all things which beneath the Moone haue being

  Are temporall, and subiect to decay:

  But I say rather, though not all agreeing

  125

  With some, that weene the contrarie in thought;

  That all this whole shall one day come to nought.

  10

  As that braue sonne of Aeson, which by charmes

  Atcheiu’d the golden Fleece in Colchid land,

  Out of the earth engendred men of armes

  130

  Of Dragons teeth, sowne in the sacred sand;

  So this braue Towne, that in her youthlie daies

  An Hydra was of warriours glorious,

  Did fill with her renowmed nourslings praise

  The firie sunnes both one and other hous:

  135

  But they at last, there being then not liuing

  An Hercules, so ranke seed to represse;

  Emongst themselues with cruell furie striuing,

  Mow’d downe themselues with slaughter mercilesse;

  Renewing in themselues that rage vnkinde,

  140

  Which whilom did those earthborn brethren blinde.

  11

  Mars shaming to haue giuen so great head

  To his off-spring, that mortall puissaunce

  Puft vp with pride of Romane hardie head,

  Seem’d aboue heauens powre it selfe to aduaunce;

  145

  Cooling againe his former kindled heate,

  With which he had those Romane spirits fild,

  Did blowe new fire, and with enflamed breath,

  Into the Gothicke colde hot rage instil’d: