by Homer
As fresh as bin the flowers in May, 10
And of my love my roundelay,
My merry, merry, merry roundelay.
Concludes with Cupid’s curse, —
‘They that do change old love for new
Pray gods they change for worse!’ 15
Ambo Simul.
They that do change old love for new,
Pray gods they change for worse!
Œnone.
Fair and fair, etc.
Paris.
Fair and fair, etc.
Thy love is fair, etc. 20
Œnone.
My love can pipe, my love can sing,
My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry, merry roundelays
Amen to Cupid’s curse, — 25
‘They that do change,’ etc.
Paris.
They that do change, etc.
Ambo.
Fair and fair, etc.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Robert Southwell
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
The Burning Babe
Robert Southwell (1561–1595)
AS I in hoary winter’s night
Stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat
Which made my heart to glow;
And lifting up a fearful eye 5
To view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright
Did in the air appear;
Who, scorchèd with excessive heat,
Such floods of tears did shed, 10
As though His floods should quench His flames,
Which with His tears were bred:
‘Alas!’ quoth He, ‘but newly born
In fiery heats I fry,
Yet none approach to warm their hearts 15
Or feel my fire but I!
‘My faultless breast the furnace is;
The fuel, wounding thorns;
Love is the fire, and sighs the smoke;
The ashes, shames and scorns; 20
The fuel Justice layeth on,
And Mercy blows the coals,
The metal in this furnace wrought
Are men’s defilèd souls:
For which, as now on fire I am 25
To work them to their good,
So will I melt into a bath,
To wash them in my blood.’
With this He vanish’d out of sight
And swiftly shrunk away, 30
And straight I callèd unto mind
That it was Christmas Day.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Samuel Daniel
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Beauty, Time, and Love Sonnets
Samuel Daniel (1562–1619)
I
FAIR is my Love and cruel as she’s fair;
Her brow-shades frown, although her eyes are sunny,
Her smiles are lightning, though her pride despair,
And her disdains are gall, her favours honey:
A modest maid, deck’d with a blush of honour, 5
Whose feet do tread green paths of youth and love;
The wonder of all eyes that look upon her,
Sacred on earth, design’d a Saint above.
Chastity and Beauty, which were deadly foes,
Live reconcilèd friends within her brow; 10
And had she Pity to conjoin with those,
Then who had heard the plaints I utter now?
For had she not been fair, and thus unkind,
My Muse had slept, and none had known my mind.
II
My spotless love hovers with purest wings, 15
About the temple of the proudest frame,
Where blaze those lights, fairest of earthly things,
Which clear our clouded world with brightest flame.
My ambitious thoughts, confinèd in her face
Affect no honour but what she can give; 20
My hopes do rest in limits of her grace;
I weigh no comforts unless she relieve.
For she, that can my heart imparadise,
Holds in her fairest hand what dearest is;
My Fortune’s wheel’s the circle of her eyes, 25
Whose rolling grace deign once a turn of bliss.
All my life’s sweet consists in her alone;
So much I love the most Unloving one.
III
And yet I cannot reprehend the flight
Or blame th’ attempt presuming so to soar; 30
The mounting venture for a high delight
Did make the honour of the fall the more.
For who gets wealth, that puts not from the shore?
Danger hath honour, great designs their fame;
Glory doth follow, courage goes before; 35
And though th’ event oft answers not the same —
Suffice that high attempts have never shame.
The mean observer, whom base safety keeps,
Lives without honour, dies without a name,
And in eternal darkness ever sleeps. — 40
And therefore, Delia, ’tis to me no blot
To have attempted, tho’ attain’d thee not.
IV
When men shall find thy flow’r, thy glory, pass,
And thou with careful brow, sitting alone,
Receivèd hast this message from thy glass, 45
That tells the truth and says that All is gone;
Fresh shalt thou see in me the wounds thou mad’st,
Though spent thy flame, in me the heat remaining:
I that have loved thee thus before thou fad’st —
My faith shall wax, when thou art in thy waning. 50
The world shall find this miracle in me,
That fire can burn when all the matter’s spent:
Then what my faith hath been thyself shalt see,
And that thou was unkind thou may’st repent. —
Thou may’st repent that thou hast scorn’d my tears, 55
When Winter snows upon thy sable hairs.
V
Beauty, sweet Love, is like the morning dew,
Whose short refresh upon the tender green
Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show,
And straight ’tis gone as it had never been. 60
Soon doth it fade that makes the fairest flourish,
Short is the glory of the blushing rose;
The hue which thou so carefully dost nourish,
Yet which at length thou must be forced to lose.
When thou, surcharged with burthen of thy years, 65
Shalt bend thy wrinkles homeward to the earth;
And that, in Beauty’s Lease expired, appears
The Date of Age, the Calends of our Death —
But ah, no more! — this must not be foretold,
For women grieve to think they must be old. 70
VI
I must not grieve my Love, whose eyes would read
Lines of delight, whereon her youth might smile;
Flowers have time before they come to seed,
And she is young, and now must sport the while.
And sport, Sweet Maid, in season of these years, 75
And learn to gather flowers before they wither;
And where the sweetest blossom first appears,
Let Love and Youth conduct thy pleasures thither.
Lighten forth smiles to clear the clouded air,
And calm the tempest which my sighs do raise; 80
Pity and smiles do best become the fair;
Pity and smiles must only yield thee praise.
Make me to say when all my griefs are gone,
VII
Let others sing of Knights and Paladines 85
In agèd accents and untimely words,
Paint shadows in imaginary lines,
Which well the reach of their high wit records:
But I must sing of thee, and those fair eyes
Authentic shall my verse in time to come; 90
When yet th’ unborn shall say, Lo, where she lies!
Whose beauty made him speak, that else was dumb!
These are the arcs, the trophies I erect,
That fortify thy name against old age;
And these thy sacred virtues must protect 95
Against the Dark, and Time’s consuming rage.
Though th’ error of my youth in them appear,
Suffice, they show I lived, and loved thee dear.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
To Sleep
Samuel Daniel (1562–1619)
CARE-CHARMER Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn 5
The shipwreck of my illadventured youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night’s untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow; 10
Never let rising Sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow:
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day’s disdain.
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Michael Drayton
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
Agincourt
Michael Drayton (1563–1631)
FAIR stood the wind for France
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance
Longer will tarry;
But putting to the main, 5
At Caux, the mouth of Seine,
With all his martial train
Landed King Harry.
And taking many a fort,
Furnish’d in warlike sort, 10
Marcheth tow’rds Agincourt
In happy hour;
Skirmishing day by day
With those that stopp’d his way,
Where the French gen’ral lay 15
With all his power.
Which, in his height of pride,
King Henry to deride,
His ransom to provide
Unto him sending; 20
Which he neglects the while
As from a nation vile,
Yet with an angry smile
Their fall portending.
And turning to his men, 25
Quoth our brave Henry then,
‘Though they to one be ten
Be not amazèd:
Yet have we well begun;
Battles so bravely won 30
Have ever to the sun
By fame been raisèd
‘And for myself (quoth he)
This my full rest shall be:
England ne’er mourn for me 35
Nor more esteem me:
Victor I will remain
Or on this earth lie slain,
Never shall she sustain
Loss to redeem me. 40
‘Poitiers and Cressy tell,
When most their pride did swell,
Under our swords they fell:
No less our skill is
Than when our grandsire great, 45
Claiming the regal seat,
By many a warlike feat
Lopp’d the French lilies.’
The Duke of York so dread
The eager vaward led; 50
With the main Henry sped
Among his henchmen.
Excester had the rear,
A braver man not there;
O Lord, how hot they were 55
On the false Frenchmen!
They now to fight are gone,
Armour on armour shone,
Drum now to drum did groan,
To hear was wonder. 60
That with the cries they make
The very earth did shake:
Trumpet to trumpet spake,
Thunder to thunder.
Well it thine age became, 65
O noble Erpingham,
Which didst the signal aim
To our hid forces!
When from a meadow by,
Like a storm suddenly 70
The English archery
Stuck the French horses.
With Spanish yew so strong,
Arrows a cloth-yard long
That like to serpents stung, 75
Piercing the weather;
None from his fellow starts,
But playing manly parts,
And like true English hearts
Stuck close together. 80
When down their bows they threw,
And forth their bilbos drew,
And on the French they flew,
Not one was tardy;
Arms were from shoulders sent, 85
Scalps to the teeth were rent,
Down the French peasants went —
Our men were hardy.
This while our noble king,
His broadsword brandishing, 90
Down the French host did ding
As to o’erwhelm it;
And many a deep wound lent,
His arms with blood besprent,
And many a cruel dent 95
Bruiséd his helmet.
Gloster, that duke so good,
Next of the royal blood,
For famous England stood
With his brave brother; 100
Clarence, in steel so bright,
Though but a maiden knight,
Yet in that furious fight
Scarce such another.
Warwick in blood did wade, 105
Oxford the foe invade,
And cruel slaughter made
Still as they ran up;
Suffolk his axe did ply,
Beaumont and Willoughby 110
Bare them right doughtily,
Ferrers and Fanhope.
Upon Saint Crispin’s Day
Fought was this noble fray,
Which fame did not delay 115
To England to carry;
O when shall English men
With such acts fill a pen?
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry? 120
List of Poems in Alphabetical Order
List of Poets in Alphabetical Order
To the Virginian Voyage
Michael Drayton (1563–1631)
YOU brave heroic minds
Worthy your country’s name,
That honour still pursue;
Go and subdue!
Whilst loitering hinds 5
Lurk here at home with shame.
Britons, you stay too long:
Quickly aboard bestow you,
And with a merry gale
Swell your stretch’d sail 10
With vows as strong
As the winds that blow you.
Your course securely steer,
West and by south forth keep!
Rocks, lee-shores, nor shoals 15
When Eolus scowls
You need not fear;
So absolute the deep.
And cheerfully at sea
Success you still entice 20
To get the pearl and gold,
And ours to hold
Virginia,
Earth’s only paradise.
Where
nature hath in store 25
Fowl, venison, and fish,
And the fruitfull’st soil
Without your toil
Three harvests more,
All greater than your wish. 30
And the ambitious vine
Crowns with his purple mass
The cedar reaching high
To kiss the sky,
The cypress, pine, 35
And useful sassafras.
To whom the Golden Age
Still nature’s laws doth give,
No other cares attend,
But them to defend 40
From winter’s rage,
That long there doth not live.
When as the luscious smell
Of that delicious land
Above the seas that flows 45
The clear wind throws,
Your hearts to swell
Approaching the dear strand;
In kenning of the shore
(Thanks to God first given) 50
O you the happiest men,
Be frolic then!
Let cannons roar,
Frighting the wide heaven.
And in regions far, 55
Such heroes bring ye forth
As those from whom we came;
And plant our name
Under that star
Not known unto our North. 60
And as there plenty grows
Of laurel everywhere —
Apollo’s sacred tree —
You it may see
A poet’s brows 65
To crown, that may sing there.
Thy Voyages attend,
Industrious Hakluyt,
Whose reading shall inflame
Men to seek fame, 70
And much commend
To after times thy wit.
