SPENSER

To the gay gardens his unstay'd desire

Him wholly carried, to refresh his sprites, There lavish nature, in her best attire,

Pours forth sweet odours and alluring sights;
And art, with her contending, doth aspire

Texcel the natural with made delights:
And all that fair or pleasant may be found,
In riotous excess doth there abound.
There he arriving, round about doth fly

From bed to bed, from one to other border,
And takes survey, with curious busy eye,

Of every flower and herb there set in order : Now this, now that, he tasteth tenderly

Yet none of them he rudely doth disa ler, Ne with his feet their silken leaves deface, But pastures on the pleasures of each place. And evermore, with most variety

And change of sweetness (for all change is sweet,) He casts his glutton sense to satisfy ;

Now sucking of the sap of herb most meet, Įr of the dew that yet on them does lie,

Now in the same bathing his tender feet: And then he percheth on some bank thereby, To weather him and his moist wings to dry.

2. CHARITY. She was a woman in her freshest age,

Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare, With goodly grace and comely personage,

That was on earth not easy to compare ;

Full of great love, but Cupid's wanton snare
As hell she hated, chaste in work and will ;

Her neck and breasts were ever open bare,
That aye thereof her babes might suck their füil;
The rest was all in yellow robes arrayéd still.
A multitude of babes about her bung,

Plying their sports, that joyed her to behold, Whom still she fed, whilst they were weak and young,

But thrust them forth still as they waxed old:

And on her head she wore a tire of gold,
Adorn'd with gems and ouches wondrous fair,

Whose paising price uneath was to be told ;
And by her side there sat a gentle pair
Of turtle doves, she sitting in an ivory chair.

3. ENVY.
And next to him malicious envy rode

Upon a ravenous wolf and still did claw Between his canker'd teeth a venomous toad,

That all the poison ran about his jaw :

But inwardly he chawéd his own maw
At neighbour's wealth, that made him ever sad,

For death it was, when any good he saw,
And wept, that cause of weeping none he had ;
But when he heard of harm, he waxéd wondrous glad
All in a kirtle of discolour'd say

He clothéd was, ypainted full of eyes : And in his bosom secretly there lay

An hateful snake, the which his tail upties

In many folds, and mortal sting implies.
Still as he rode, he gnashed his teeth, to see

Those heaps of gold with griple covetise,
And grudged at the great felicity
Of proud Lucifera, and his own company.
He hated all good works and virtuous deeds,

And him no less that any like did use:
And who with gracious bread the hungry feeds

His alms for want of faith he doth accuse.

So every good to bad he doth abuse; And eke the verse of famous poet's wit

He does back-bite, and spiteful poison spucs From leprous mouth, on all that ever writ; Srch one vile envy was, that first in row did sit

SPENSER-ANON-SOUTHWELL.

25 XVI, ANONYMOUS-YOUTH AND AGE. Crabbed age and Youth Cannot live together ;

Youth is full of pleasure ; Age is full of care : Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather,

Youth like summer brave; Age like winter Youth is full of sport,

sbare. Age's breath is short;

Youth is nimble, Age is lame :
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold :

Youth is wild, and Age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee;
Youth, I do adore thee;

O my love, my love is young :
Age, I do defy thee;
O sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinks thou stay'st too long.

XVII. ROBERT SOUTHWELL.

1. DELAY.
Shun delays, they breed remorse ;

Take thy time while time is lent tha
Creeping snails have weakest force,

Fly their fault lest thou repent thet.
Good is best when soonest wrought,
Linger'd labours come to nought.
Hoist up sail while gale doth last,

Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure
Seek not time when time is past,

Sober speed is wisdom's leisure.
After-wits are dearly bought,
Let thy forewit guide thy thought.
Time wears all his locks before,

Take thy hold upon his forehead ;

When he flies he turns no more,

And behind his scalp is naked.
Works adjourn'd have many stays,
Long demurs breed new delays.
Seek thy salve while sore is green,

Fester'd wounds ask deeper lancing ;
After-cures are seldom seen,

Often sought, scarce ever chancing.
Time and place give best advice.
Out of season, out of price.
Crush the serpent in the head.

Break its eggs ere they be hatch’d;
Kill bad chickens in the tread,

Fledg’d, they hardly can be catch’d.
In the rising stifle ill,
Lest it grow against thy will.
Drops do pierce the stubborn flint,

Not by force but often falling;
Custom kills with feeble dint,

More by use than strength and 'vailing.
Single sands have little weight,
Many make a drawing freight.
Tender twigs are bent with ease ;

Aged trees do break with bending ;
Young desires make little prease;

Growth doth make them past amending.
Happy man that soon doth knock
Babel's babes against the rock.

2. VICISSITUDE. The lopped tree in time may grow again ;

Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower; The sorriest wight may find release of pain,

The driest soil suck in some moistening shower; Time goes by turns, and chances change by course From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of fortune doth not ever flow;

She draws her favours to the lowest ebb;

SOUTIIWELL.

Her tides have equal time to come and go ;

Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web: No joy so great but runneth to an end; No hap so hard but may in time amend.

3. CONTENT AND RICH.
My conscience is my crown;

Contented thoughts my rest;
My heart is happy in itself :

My bliss is in my breast.
Enough, I reckon wealth ;

A mean, the surest lot;
That lies too high for base contempt

Too low for envy's shot.
My wishes are but few,

All easy to fulfil :
I make the limits of my power

The bounds unto my will.
I have no hopes but one,

Which is of heav'nly reign :
Effects attained, or not desired,

All lower hopes refrain.
I fear no care for gold,

Well-doing is my wealth :
My mind to me an empire is,

While Grace affordeth bealth.
I wrestle not with rage,

While fury's flame doth burn;
It is in vain to stop the stream,

Until the tide doth turn.
But when the flame is out,

And ebbing wrath doth end;
I turn a late enraged foe

Into a quiet friend.
And taught with often proof,

A temper'd calm I find