Complete Works of Edmund Spenser
Page 160
And even the thoughts of men, do plaine appeare:
For from th’ Eternall Truth it doth proceed,
Through heavenly vertue, which her beames doe breed. 175
With the great glorie of that wondrous light
His throne is all encompassed around,
And hid in his owne brightnesse from the sight
Of all that looke thereon with eyes unsound:
And underneath his feet are to be found 180
Thunder, and lightning, and tempestuous fyre,
The instruments of his avenging yre.
There in his bosome Sapience doth sit,
The soveraine dearling of the Deity,
Clad like a queene in royall robes, most fit 185
For so great powre and peerelesse majesty,
And all with gemmes and jewels gorgeously
Adornd, that brighter then the starres appeare,
And make her native brightnes seem more cleare.
And on her head a crowne of purest gold 190
Is set, in signe of highest soveraignty;
And in her hand a scepter she doth hold,
With which she rules the house of God on hy,
And menageth the ever-moving sky,
And in the same these lower creatures all, 195
Subjected to her powre imperiall.
Both heaven and earth obey unto her will,
And all the creatures which they both containe:
For of her fulnesse, which the world doth fill,
They all partake, and do in state remaine, 200
As their great Maker did at first ordaine,
Through observation of her high beheast,
By which they first were made, and still increast.
The fairenesse of her face no tongue can tell;
For she the daughters of all wemens race, 205
And angels eke, in beautie doth excell,
Sparkled on her from Gods owne glorious face,
And more increast by her owne goodly grace,
That it doth farre exceed all humane thought,
Ne can on earth compared be to ought. 210
Ne could that painter (had he lived yet)
Which pictured Venus with so curious quill
That all posteritie admyred it,
Have purtrayd this, for all his maistring skill;
Ne she her selfe, had she remained still, 215
And were as faire as fabling wits do fayne,
Could once come neare this Beauty soverayne.
But had those wits, the wonders of their dayes,
Or that sweete Teian poet which did spend
His plenteous vaine in setting forth her prayse, 220
Seene but a glims of this which I pretend,
How wondrously would he her face commend,
Above that idole of his fayning thought,
That all the world shold with his rimes be fraught!
How then dare I, the novice of his art, 225
Presume to picture so divine a wight,
Or hope t’ expresse her least perfections part,
Whose beautie filles the heavens with her light,
And darkes the earth with shadow of her sight?
Ah! gentle Muse, thou art too weake and faint, 230
The pourtraict of so heavenly hew to paint.
Let angels, which her goodly face behold
And see at will, her soveraigne praises sing,
And those most sacred mysteries unfold
Of that faire love of mightie Heavens King. 235
Enough is me t’ admyre so heavenly thing,
And being thus with her huge love possest,
In th’ only wonder of her selfe to rest.
But who so may, thrise happie man him hold
Of all on earth, whom God so much doth grace, 240
And lets his owne Beloved to behold:
For in the view of her celestiall face
All joy, all blisse, all happinesse have place,
Ne ought on earth can want unto the wight
Who of her selfe can win the wishfull sight. 245
For she out of her secret threasury
Plentie of riches forth on him will powre,
Even heavenly riches, which there hidden ly
Within the closet of her chastest bowre,
Th’ eternall portion of her precious dowre, 250
Which Mighty God hath given to her free,
And to all those which thereof worthy bee.
None thereof worthy be, but those whom shee
Vouchsafeth to her presence to receave,
And letteth them her lovely face to see, 255
Wherof such wondrous pleasures they conceave,
And sweete contentment, that it doth bereave
Their soule of sense, through infinite delight,
And them transport from flesh into the spright.
In which they see such admirable things, 260
As carries them into an extasy,
And heare such heavenly notes, and carolings
Of Gods high praise, that filles the brasen sky,
And feele such joy and pleasure inwardly,
That maketh them all worldly cares forget, 265
And onely thinke on that before them set.
Ne from thenceforth doth any fleshly sense,
Or idle thought of earthly things remaine;
But all that earst seemd sweet seemes now offense,
And all that pleased earst now seemes to paine: 270
Their joy, their comfort, their desire, their gaine,
Is fixed all on that which now they see;
All other sights but fayned shadowes bee.
And that faire lampe, which useth to enflame
The hearts of men with selfe consuming fyre, 275
Thenceforth seemes fowle, and full of sinfull blame;
And all that pompe, to which proud minds aspyre
By name of honor, and so much desyre,
Seemes to them basenesse, and all riches drosse,
And all mirth sadnesse, and all lucre losse. 280
So full their eyes are of that glorious sight,
And senses fraught with such satietie,
That in nought else on earth they can delight,
But in th’ aspect of that felicitie,
Which they have written in their inward ey; 285
On which they feed, and in their fastened mynd
All happie joy and full contentment fynd.
Ah! then, my hungry soule, which long hast fed
On idle fancies of thy foolish thought,
And, with false Beauties flattring bait misled, 290
Hast after vaine deceiptfull shadowes sought,
Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought
But late repentance, through thy follies prief;
Ah! ceasse to gaze on matter of thy grief.
And looke at last up to that Soveraine Light, 295
From whose pure beams al perfect Beauty springs,
That kindleth love in every godly spright,
Even the love of God, which loathing brings
Of this vile world and these gay seeming things;
With whose sweete pleasures being so possest, 300
Thy straying thoughts henceforth for ever rest.
Prothalamion
A Spousall Verse in Honour of the Double Marriage of Ladie Elizabeth and Ladie Katherine Somerset
Published in 1596, this nuptial song was composed for the occasion of the twin marriage of the daughters of the Earl of Worcester; Elizabeth Somerset and Katherine Somerset. Prothalamion is written in the conventional form of a marriage song, beginning with a description of the River Thames where Spenser finds two beautiful maidens. The poet praises their beauty, wishing them all the blessings for their marriages, before commencing a fine description of the day on which he is writing the poem. Spenser goes on to portray two swans by the Thames, relating them to the myth of Jove and Leda, thus compl
imenting the brides with classical and divine allusions.
An Elizabethan depiction of the River Thames — the setting of the poem
IN HONOUR OF
THE DOUBLE MARIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE & VERTUOUS LADIES, THE LADIE ELIZABETH AND THE LADIE KATHERINE SOMERSET, DAUGHTERS TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARLE OF WORCESTER AND ESPOUSED TO THE TWO WORTHIE GENTLEMEN MASTER HENRY GILFORD, AND MASTER WILLIAM PETER, ESQUYERS
PROTHALAMION
CALME was the day, and through the trembling ayre
Sweete breathing Zephyrus did softly play,
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titans beames, which then did glyster fayre:
When I, whom sullein care, 5
Through discontent of my long fruitlesse stay
In princes court, and expectation vayne
Of idle hopes, which still doe fly away,
Like empty shaddowes, did aflict my brayne,
Walkt forth to ease my payne 10
Along the shoare of silver streaming Themmes;
Whose rutty bancke, the which his river hemmes,
Was paynted all with variable flowers,
And all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes,
Fit to decke maydens bowres, 15
And crowne their paramours,
Against the brydale day, which is not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
There, in a meadow, by the rivers side,
A flocke of nymphes I chaunced to espy, 20
All lovely daughters of the flood thereby,
With goodly greenish locks all loose untyde,
As each had bene a bryde:
And each one had a little wicker basket,
Made of fine twigs entrayled curiously, 25
In which they gathered flowers to fill their flasket;
And with fine fingers cropt full feateously
The tender stalkes on hye.
Of every sort, which in that meadow grew,
They gathered some; the violet pallid blew, 30
The little dazie, that at evening closes,
The virgin lillie, and the primrose trew,
With store of vermeil roses,
To decke their bridegromes posies
Against the brydale day, which was not long: 35
Sweete Themmes, runne, softly, till I end my song.
With that I saw two swannes of goodly hewe
Come softly swimming downe along the lee;
Two fairer birds I yet did never see:
The snow which doth the top of Pindus strew 40
Did never whiter shew,
Nor Jove himselfe, when he a swan would be
For love of Leda, whiter did appear:
Yet Leda was, they say, as white as he,
Yet not so white as these, nor nothing neare: 45
So purely white they were,
That even the gentle streame, the which them bare,
Seem’d foule to them, and bad his billowes spare
To wet their silken feathers, least they might
Soyle their fayre plumes with water not so fayre, 50
And marre their beauties bright,
That shone as heavens light.
Against their brydale day, which was not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
Eftsoones the nymphes, which now had flowers their fill, 55
Ran all in haste to see that silver brood,
As they came floating on the christal flood;
Whom when they sawe, they stood amazed still,
Their wondring eyes to fill.
Them seem’d they never saw a sight so fayre, 60
Of fowles so lovely, that they sure did deeme
Them heavenly borne, or to be that same payre
Which through the skie draw Venus silver teeme;
For sure they did not seeme
To be begot of any earthly seede, 65
But rather angels or of angels breede:
Yet were they bred of Somers-heat, they say,
In sweetest season, when each flower and weede
The earth did fresh aray;
So fresh they seem’d as day, 70
Even as their brydale day, which was not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
Then forth they all out of their baskets drew
Great store of flowers, the honour of the field,
That to the sense did fragrant odours yeild, 75
All which upon those goodly birds they threw,
And all the waves did strew,
That like old Peneus waters they did seeme,
When downe along by pleasant Tempes shore,
Scattred with flowres, through Thessaly they streeme, 80
That they appeare, through lillies plenteous store,
Like a brydes chamber flore.
Two of those nymphes, meane while, two garlands bound
Of freshest flowres which in that mead they found,
The which presenting all in trim array, 85
Their snowie foreheads therewithall they crownd,
Whil’st one did sing this lay,
Prepar’d against that day,
Against their brydale day, which was not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song. 90
‘Ye gentle birdes, the worlds faire ornament,
And heavens glorie, whom this happie hower
Doth leade unto your lovers blissfull bower,
Joy may you have and gentle hearts content
Of your loves couplement: 95
And let faire Venus, that is Queene of Love,
With her heart-quelling sonne upon you smile,
Whose smile, they say, hath vertue to remove
All loves dislike, and friendships faultie guile
For ever to assoile. 100
Let endlesse peace your steadfast hearts accord,
And blessed plentie wait upon your bord;
And let your bed with pleasures chast abound,
That fruitfull issue may to you afford,
Which may your foes confound, 105
And make your joyes redound,
Upon your brydale day, which is not long:
Sweete Themmes, run softlie, till I end my song.’
So ended she; and all the rest around
To her redoubled that her undersong, 110
Which said, their bridale daye should not be long.
And gentle Eccho from the neighbour ground
Their accents did resound.
So forth those joyous birdes did passe along,
Adowne the lee, that to them murmurde low, 115
As he would speake, but that he lackt a tong,
Yeat did by signes his glad affection show,
Making his streame run slow.
And all the foule which in his flood did dwell
Gan flock about these twaine, that did excell 120
The rest so far as Cynthia doth shend
The lesser starres. So they, enranged well,
Did on those two attend,
And their best service lend,
Against their wedding day, which was not long: 125
Sweete Themmes, run softly, till I end my song.
At length they all to mery London came,
To mery London, my most kyndly nurse,
That to me gave this lifes first native sourse;
Though from another place I take my name, 130
An house of auncient fame.
There when they came, whereas those bricky towres,
The which on Themmes brode aged backe doe ryde,
Where now the studious lawyers have their bowers,
There whylome wont the Templer Knights to byde, 135
Till they decayd through pride:
Next whereunto there standes a stately place,
Where oft I gayned giftes and goodly grace
Of that great lord which therein wo
nt to dwell,
Whose want too well now feeles my freendles case: 140
But ah! here fits not well
Olde woes, but joyes to tell,
Against the bridale daye, which is not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
Yet therein now doth lodge a noble peer, 145
Great Englands glory and the worlds wide wonder,
Whose dreadfull name late through all Spaine did thunder,
And Hercules two pillors standing neere
Did make to quake and feare.
Faire branch of honor, flower of chevalrie, 150
That fillest England with thy triumphes fame,
Joy have thou of thy noble victorie,
And endlesse happinesse of thine owne name
That promiseth the same:
That through thy prowesse and victorious armes 155
Thy country may be freed from forraine harmes;
And great Elisaes glorious name may ring
Through al the world, fil’d with thy wide alarmes,
Which some brave Muse may sing
To ages following, 160
Upon the brydale day, which is not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song.
From those high towers this noble lord issuing,
Like radiant Hesper when his golden hayre
In th’ ocean billowes he hath bathed fayre, 165
Descended to the rivers open vewing,
With a great traine ensuing.
Above the rest were goodly to bee seene
Two gentle knights of lovely face and feature,
Beseeming well the bower of anie queene, 170
With gifts of wit and ornaments of nature,
Fit for so goodly stature:
That like the twins of Jove they seem’d in sight,
Which decke the bauldricke of the heavens bright.
They two, forth pacing to the rivers side, 175
Received those two faire brides, their loves delight,
Which, at th’ appointed tyde,
Each one did make his bryde,
Against their brydale day, which is not long:
Sweete Themmes, runne softly, till I end my song. 180
FINIS
Commendatory Sonnets
CONTENTS
HARVEY, THE HAPPY ABOVE HAPPIEST MEN
WHO SO WIL SEEKE BY RIGHT DESERTS T’ ATTAINE
WHEREFORE DOTH VAINE ANTIQUITIE SO VAUNT
THE ANTIQUE BABEL, EMPRESSE OF THE EAST
A mezzotint of Spenser, c. 1775
HARVEY, THE HAPPY ABOVE HAPPIEST MEN