170

THE FAIRY QUEEN.

The grasshopper, gnat, and fly,
Serve for our minstrelsie;

Grace said, we dance a while,
And so the time beguile:

And if the moon doth hide her head,
The gloe-worm lights us home to bed.

On tops of dewie grasse

So nimbly do we passe,
The young and tender stalk
Ne'er bends when we do walk:
Yet in the morning may be seen

Where we the night before have been.

Anonymous.

SONG OF AN ENCHANTRESS.

171

SONG OF AN ENCHANTRESS.

LOVE is the blossom where there blows
Every thing that lives or grows;
Love doth make the heavens to move,
And the sun doth burn in love:
Love, the strong and weak doth yoke,
And makes the ivy climb the oak
Under whose shadows lions wild,
Soften'd by love, grow tame and mild.
Love, no med'cine can appease;
He burns the fishes in the seas;

Not all the skill his wounds can stanch.
Not all the sea his thirst can quench.
Love did make the bloody spear
Once a leafy coat to wear,

While in his leaves there shrouded lay
Sweet birds, for love that sing and play;
And of all love's joyful flame

I the bud and blossom am.

Only lend thy knee to me,

Thy wooing shall thy winning be!

See, see, the flowers that below

Now freshly as the morning blow,

And of all, the virgin rose,

That as bright Aurora shows;

How they all unleaved die,

Losing their virginity:

172

SONG OF AN ENCHANTRESS.

Like unto a summer shade,

But now born, and now they fade!
Every thing doth pass away;
There is danger in delay.

Come, come, gather then the rose;
Gather it, or it you lose.

All the sand of Tagus' shore
In my bosom casts its ore:
All the valleys' swimming corn
To my house is yearly borne:
Every grape of every vine

Is gladly bruised to make me wine;
While ten thousand kings, as proud
To carry up my train, have bow'd,
And a world of ladies send me
In my chamber to attend me:
All the stars in heaven that shine,
And ten thousand more, are mine.
Only bend thy knee to me,

Thy wooing shall thy winning be!

Giles Fletcher.

A VISION OF "THE FAERY QUEEN."

173

A VISION OF "THE FAERY QUEEN."

METHOUGHT I saw the grave where Laura lay,
Within that temple where the vestal flame
Was wont to burn; and, passing by that way,
To see that buried dust of living fame
Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept,
All suddenly I saw the Faery Queen:

At whose approach the soul of Petrarke wept,
And from thenceforth those Graces were not seen
(For they this Queen attended); in whose stead
Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse.
Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed,
And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did perse;
Where Homer's sprighte did tremble all for grief,
And curst the access of that celestial thief.

Sir W. Raleigh.

174

HERSELF ALL TREASURE.

HERSELF ALL TREASURE.

YE tradefull Merchants, that, with weary toyle Do seeke most pretious things to make your gain; And both the Indias of their treasure spoile; What needeth you to seeke so farre in vaine? For loe, my Love doth in herselfe containe All this world's riches that may farre be found: If Saphyres, loe, her eies be Saphyres plaine; If Rubies, loe, hir lips be Rubies sound;

If Pearles, hir teeth be Pearles, both pure and round; If Ivorie, her forhead Ivorie weene;

If Gold, her locks are finest Gold on ground:

If Silver, her faire hands are Silver sheene:

But that which fairest is, but few behold-
Her mind adornd with vertues manifold.

E. Spenser.