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FORMERLY TRANSLATED
I BEING one day at my window all alone, | |
| So manie strange things happened me to see, | |
| As much it grieveth me to thinke thereon. | |
| At my right hand a hynde appear’d to mee, | |
| So faire as mote the greatest god delite; | 5 |
| Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace, | |
| Of which the one was blacke, the other white: | |
| With deadly force so in their cruell race | |
| They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast, | |
| That at the last, and in short time, I spide, | 10 |
| Under a rocke, where she, alas! opprest, | |
| Fell to the ground, and there untimely dide. | |
| Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie | |
| Oft makes me wayle so hard a destenie. | |
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II After, at sea a tall ship did appeare, | 15 |
| Made all of heben and white yvorie; | |
| The sailes of golde, of silke the tackle were: | |
| Milde was the winde, calme seem’d the sea to bee, | |
| The skie eachwhere did show full bright and faire: | |
| With rich treasures this gay ship fraighted was: | 20 |
| But sudden storme did so turmoyle the aire, | |
| And tumbled up the sea, that she (alas!) | |
| Strake on a rock, that under water lay, | |
| And perished past all recoverie. | |
| O how great ruth, and sorrowfull assay, | 25 |
| Doth vex my spirite with perplexitie, | |
| Thus in a moment to see lost and drown’d | |
| So great riches as like cannot be found! | |
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III Then heavenly branches did I see arise | |
| Out of the fresh and lustie lawrell tree, | 30 |
| Amidst the yong greene wood: of Paradise | |
| Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see. | |
| Such store of birds therein yshrowded were, | |
| Chaunting in shade their sundrie melodie, | |
| That with their sweetnes I was ravish’t nere. | 35 |
| While on this lawrell fixed was mine eie, | |
| The skie gan everie where to overcast, | |
| And darkned was the welkin all about: | |
| When sudden flash of heavens fire out brast, | |
| And rent this royall tree quite by the roote; | 40 |
| Which makes me much and ever to complaine; | |
| For no such shadow shalbe had againe. | |
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IV Within this wood, out of a rocke did rise | |
| A spring of water, mildly rumbling downe, | |
| Whereto approched not in anie wise | 45 |
| The homely shepheard, nor the ruder clowne; | |
| But manie Muses, and the nymphes withall, | |
| That sweetly in accord did tune their voyce | |
| To the soft sounding of the waters fall, | |
| That my glad hart thereat did much rejoyce. | 50 |
| But while herein I tooke my chiefe delight, | |
| I saw (alas!) the gaping earth devoure | |
| The spring, the place, and all cleane out of sight: | |
| Which yet aggreeves my hart even to this houre, | |
| And wounds my soule with rufull memorie, | 55 |
| To see such pleasures gon so suddenly. | |
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V I saw a phœnix in the wood alone, | |
| With purple wings, and crest of golden hewe; | |
| Strange bird he was, whereby I thought anone, | |
| That of some heavenly wight I had the vewe; | 60 |
| Until he came unto the broken tree, | |
| And to the spring, that late devoured was. | |
| What say I more? Each thing at last we see | |
| Doth passe away: the phœnix there, alas! | |
| Spying the tree destroid, the water dride, | 65 |
| Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine, | |
| And so foorthwith in great despight he dide: | |
| That yet my heart burnes in exceeding paine, | |
| For ruth and pitie of so haples plight. | |
| O, let mine eyes no more see such a sight! | 70 |
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VI At last, so faire a ladie did I spie, | |
| That thinking yet on her I burne and quake: | |
| On hearbs and flowres she walked pensively, | |
| Milde, but yet love she proudly did forsake: | |
| White seem’d her robes, yet woven so they were | 75 |
| As snow and golde together had been wrought: | |
| Above the wast a darke clowde shrouded her, | |
| A stinging serpent by the heele her caught; | |
| Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure, | |
| And well assur’d she mounted up to joy. | 80 |
| Alas! on earth so nothing doth endure, | |
| But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy: | |
| Which make this life wretched and miserable, | |
| Tossed with stormes of fortune variable. | |
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VII When I behold this tickle trustles state | 85 |
| Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro, | |
| And mortall men tossed by troublous fate | |
| In restles seas of wretchednes and woe, | |
| I wish I might this wearie life forgoe, | |
| And shortly turne unto my happie rest, | 90 |
| Where my free spirite might not anie moe | |
| Be vext with sights, that doo her peace molest. | |
| And ye, faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest | |
| All heavenly grace and vertue shrined is, | |
| When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest, | 95 |
| Loath this base world, and thinke of heavens blis: | |
| And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures, | |
Yet thinke, that death shall spoyle your goodly features.
FINIS. | |
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