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Died 1607] SIR EDWARD DYER.

[From Percy's Reliques.]

My mind to me a kingdom is,

Such perfect joy therein I find
As far exceeds all earthly bliss,

That God or Nature hath assigned;

Though much I want, that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

I see how plenty surfeits oft,

And hasty climbers soonest fall;
I see that such as sit aloft

Mishap doth threaten most of all:
These get with toil, and keep with fear;
Such cares my mind could never bear.

Some have too much, yet still they crave;
I little have, yet seek no more;

They are but poor, though much they have,
And I am rich, with little store :

They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lack, I lend; they pine, I live.
I laugh not at another's loss,

I grudge not at another's gain,
No worldly wave my mind can toss ;
I brook that is another's bane:
I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend;
I loath not life, nor dread mine end.

My wealth is health, and perfect ease;

My conscience clear my chief defence ;
I neither seek by bribes to please,

Nor by deceit to give offence;
Thus do I live, thus will I die ;

Would all did so, as well as I !

EDMUND SPENSER. [1553-1598

From the Introduction to the Fairy Queen.

Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my song.

OPENING OF THE FAIRY QUEEN.

A gentle Knight was pricking on the plain, Yclad in mighty arms and silver shield, Wherein old dints of deep wounds did remain, The cruel marks of many a bloody field; Yet arms till that time did he never wield, His angry steed did chide his foaming bit, As much disdaining to the curb to yield; Full jolly knight he seemed, and fair did sit, As one for knightly jousts and fierce encounters fit.

And on his breast a bloody cross he bore, The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living, ever him adored; Upon his shield the like was also scored, For sovereign hope, which in his help he had. Right faithful, true he was in deed and word, But of his cheer did seem too solemn sad, Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was y-drad.

A lovely lady rode him fair beside,

Upon a lowly ass more white than snow,
Yet she much whiter, but the same did hide
Under a veil, that wimpled was full low,
And over all a black stole she did throw;
As one that inly mourned, so was she sad,
And heavy sat upon her palfrey slow,
Seem-ed in heart some hidden care she had,
And by her in a line a milk-white lamb she lad.

So pure

and innocent, as that same lamb, She was in life and every virtuous lore,

And by descent from royal lineage came,

Of ancient kings and queens, that had of yore Their sceptres stretched from east to western shore, And all the world in their subjection held.

Book II., Canto VIII.

And is there care in Heaven-and is there love
In heavenly spirits to these creatures base
That may compassion of their evils move?
There is;
O the exceeding grace
Of highest God that loves his creatures so;
And all his works with mercy doth embrace;
That blessed angels he sends to and fro . .
To come to succour us that succour want
And all for love and nothing for reward!

O why should heavenly God to men have such regard?

TO HIS BOOK.

Go little book: thyself present
As child whose parent is unkent,
To him that is the president
Of nobleness and chevalrie.
And if that Envie bark at thee,-
As sure it will,—for succour flee
Under the shadow of his wing.
And asked, Who thee forth did bring?
A shepherd's swain, say, did thee sing,
All as his straying flock he fed.
And when his honour has thee read,
Crave pardon for thy hardy-head,
And when thou art past jeopardie,
Come tell me what was said of me,
And I will send more after thee.

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TO SIR WALTER RALEIGH.

To thee that art the summer's nightingale,
Thy sovereign goddess's most dear delight-
Why do I send this rustic madrigale

That may thy tuneful ear unseason quite ?

Thou only fit this argument to write

In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bower, And dainty Love learned sweetly to indite

From THE ELEGY ON SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. [Printed among Spenser's Poems, but said to be by Matthew Roydon.] You knew, who knew not Astrophill? That I should live to say I knew And not have in possession still. Of him you know his merit such, I cannot say you hear-too much.

The Muses met him

every day,
That taught him sing, to write and say
To hear him speak and sweetly smile,
You were in Paradise the while.

A sweet attractive kind of grace,

A full assurance given by looks,
Continual comfort in a face,
The lineaments of gospel books;

I trow that countenance cannot lie,
Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.

Was never eye did see that face,

Was never ear did hear that tongue,
Was never mind did mind his grace,
That ever thought the travel long;

But eyes and ears and every thought
Were with his sweet perfections caught.

O God, that such a worthy man,

In whom so rare deserts did reign,
Desir-ed thus, must leave us than

And we to wish for him in vain!

1554-1586] SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.

STELLA.

Those looks whose beams be joy, whose motion is delight;

That face, whose texture shews what perfect beauty is; That presence, which doth give dark hearts a living

light,

That grace that Venus weeps that she herself doth

miss.

ASPIRE TO HIGHER THINGS.

Leave me O love which reachest but to dust,
And thou my mind aspire to higher things;
Grow rich in that which never taketh rust.
Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings;
Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might
To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be,
Which breaks the clouds, and opens forth the light
That doth both shine and give us sight to see.
O take fast hold, let that light be thy guide

In this small course which Birth draws out to Death.
And think how ill becometh him to slide,

Who seeketh Heaven, and comes of Heavenly breath. Then farewell, world, thine uttermost I see,

Eternal Love! maintain thy life in me!

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