To hear this nightingale,
Among the birds smale,
Warbling in the vale :-
Good year and good luck,
With chuk, chuk, chuk, chuk!
My lute, awake, perform the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And end that I have now begun,
And, when this song is sung and past,
My lute, be still, for I have done!
As to be heard where ear is none,
As lead to grave in marble stone,
My song may pierce her heart as soon:
Should we, then, sigh or sing or moan?
No, no, my lute, for I have done!
The rocks do not so cruelly
Repulse the waves continually,
As she my suit and affectión:
So that I am past remedy:
Whereby my lute and I have done.
Proud of the spoil that thou hast got
Of simple hearts thorough Love's shot,
By whom unkind thou hast them won,
Think not he hath his bow forgot,
Although my lute and I have done!
Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain,
That mak'st but game of earnest pain.
Trow not alone under the sun
Unquit to cause thy lover's plain,
Although my lute and I have done.
Now cease, my lute, this is the last
Labour that thou and I shall waste,
And ended is that we begun :
Now is this song both sung and past—
My lute, be still, for I have done.
GIVE place, ye lovers, here before
That spent your boasts and brags in vain !
My Lady's beauty passeth more
The best of yours, I dare well sayen,
Than doth the sun the candle light,
Or brightest day the darkest night.
And thereto hath a troth as just
As had Penelope the fair;
For what she saith, ye may it trust,
As it by writing sealed were:
And virtues hath she many moe
Than I with pen have skill to show.
I could rehearse, if that I would,
The whole effect of Nature's plaint,
When she had lost the perfect mould,
The like to whom she could not paint:
With wringing hands, how she did cry,
And what she said, I know it, I !
I know she swore with raging mind,
Her kingdom only set apart,
There was no loss, by law of kind,
That could have gone so near her heart;
And this was chiefly all her pain :-
'She could not make the like again.'
Sith Nature thus gave her the praise,
To be the chiefest work she wrought;
In faith, methink! some better ways
On your behalf might well be sought
Than to compare, as ye have done,
To match the candle with the sun.
Howard, Earl of Surrey.
FAITHFULLY HOWSOEVER
HE BE REWARDED
SET me whereas the sun doth parch the green,
Or where his beams do not dissolve the ice;
In temperate heat, where he is felt and seen;
In presence prest of people, mad or wise;
Set me in high, or yet in low degree;
In longest night, or in the shortest day;
In clearest sky, or where clouds thickest be;
In lusty youth, or when my hairs are gray;
Set me in heaven, in earth, or else in hell,
In hill, or dale, or in the foaming flood;
Thrall or at large, alive whereso I dwell;
Sick or in health, in evil fame or good:
Hers will I be, and only with this thought
Content myself, although my chance be nought!
Howard, Earl of Surrey.
COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER
GOOD ladies! ye that have your pleasures in exíle,
Step in your foot, come, take a place, and mourn with me awhile! And such as by their lords do set but little price,
Let them sit still, it skills them not what chance come on the dice.
But ye whom Love hath bound, by order of desire,
To love your lords, whose good deserts none other would require Come ye yet once again, and set your foot by mine,
Whose woful plight, and sorrows great, no tongue may well
My love and lord, alas! in whom consists my wealth,
Hath fortune sent to pass the seas, in hazard of his health.
Whom I was wont t'embrace with well contented mind,
Is now amid the foaming floods at pleasure of the wind,
Where God well him preserve, and soon him home me send-
Without which hope my life, alas! were shortly at an end!
Whose absence yet, although my hope doth tell me plain,
With short return he comes anon, yet ceaseth not my pain.
The fearful dreams I have ofttimes do grieve me so,
That when I wake, I lie in doubt wh'er they be true or no.
Sometime the roaring seas, me seems, do grow so high,
That my dear lord, ay me! alas! methinks I see him die!
Another time the same doth tell me he is come,
And playing, where I shall him find, with his fair little son;
So forth I go apace to see that liefsome sight,
And with a kiss, methinks I say: Welcome, my lord, my knight !
Welcome, my sweet, alas! the stay of my welfare,
Thy presence bringeth forth a truce betwixt me and my care.'
Then lively doth he look, and salueth me again,
And saith:- My dear, how is it now that you have all this pain?'
Wherewith the heavy cares, that heap'd are in my breast,
Break forth and me dischargen clean of all my huge unrest.
But when I me awake, and find it but a dream,
The anguish of my former woe beginneth more extreme,
And me tormenteth so that unneath may I find
Some hidden place, wherein to slake the gnawing of my mind.
Thus every way you see, with absence how I burn,
And for my wound no cure I find but hope of good return,
Save when I think by sour how sweet is felt the more,
It doth abate some of my pains, that I abode before;
And then unto myself I say :- -'When we shall meet,
But little while shall seem this pain, the joy shall be so sweet!'
Ye winds, I you conjúre, in chiefest of your rage,
That ye my lord me safely send, my sorrows to assuage,
And that I may not long abide in this excess,
Do your good will to cure a wight that liveth in distress!
WHAT sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we see,
What dear delight the blooms to bees, my true love is to me!
As fresh and lusty Ver foul Winter doth exceed,
As morning bright, with scarlet sky, doth pass the evening' weed,
As mellow pears above the crabs esteemed be:
So doth my love surmount them all, whom yet
The oak shall olives bear, the lamb the lion fray,
The owl shall match the nightingale in tuning of her lay,
Or I my love let slip out of mine entire heart,
So deep reposéd in my breast is she for her desart!
For many blessed gifts, O happy, happy land,
Where Mars and Pallas strive to make their glory most to stand!
Yet, land, more is thy bliss, that in this cruel age
A Venus' imp thou hast brought forth, so steadfast and so sage,
Among the Muses Nine a tenth if Jove would make,
And to the Graces Three a fourth, her would Apollo take!
Let some for honour hunt, and hoard the massy gold:
With her so I may live and die, my weal cannot be told.
HENCE, HEART, WITH HER THAT MUST DEPART
HENCE, heart, with her that must depart,
And hald thee with thy sovereign,
For I had liever want ane heart,
Nor have the heart that does me pain.
Therefore, go, with thy love remain,
And let me leif thus unmolest,
And see that thou come not again,
But bide with her thou luvës best.
Sen she that I have servéd lang
Is to depart so suddenly,
Address thee now, for thou sall gang
And bear thy lady company.
Fra she be gone, heartless am I,
For why? thou art with her possest!
Therefore, my heart, go hence in high,
And bide with her thou luvës best.
Though this belappit body here
Be bound to servitude and thrall,
My faithful heart is free entire
And mind to serve my lady at all.
Would God that I were perigall,
Under that redolent rose to rest!
Yet at the least, my heart, thou sall
Abide with her thou luvës best.
Sen in your garth the lily white
May not remain among the laif,
Adieu the flower of whole delight!
Adieu the succour that may me saif !
Adieu the fragrant balm suaif,
And lamp of ladies lustiest !
My faithful heart so shall it haif
To bide with her it luvës best.
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