Michael Drayton

"DORILVS in sorrowes deepe,         Autumne waxing olde and chill,         As he sate his Flocks to keepe         Vnderneath an easie hill:"

"You best discern'd of my interior eies,     And yet your graces outwardly diuine,     Whose deare remembrance in my bosome lies,     Too riche"

"Such was old Orpheus cunning,     That sencelesse things drew neere him,     And heards of beasts to heare him,     The stock, the stone, the O"

"To such as say thy love I overprize,     And do not stick to term my praises folly,     Against these folks that think themselves so wise,"

"Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write,     And sayst my lines be dull and do not move,     I marvel not thou feel'st not my delight,"

"Singe wee the Rose     Then which no flower there growes         Is sweeter:     And aptly her compare     With what in that is rare"

"Rich Statue, double-faced,     With Marble Temples graced,         To rayse thy God-head hyer,     In flames where Altars shining,     Before"

"How many paltry, foolish, painted things,     That now in Coaches trouble eu'ry Street,     Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings,     Ere the"

"Reading sometyme, my sorrowes to beguile,     I find old Poets hylls and floods admire:     One, he doth wonder monster-breeding Nyle,     Anot"

"Since to obtain thee nothing me will stead,     I have a med'cine that shall cure my love.     The powder of her heart dried, when she's dead,"

"Some wits there be which lyke my method well,     And say my verse runnes in a lofty vayne;     Some say, I haue a passing pleasing straine,"

"Maruaile not Loue, though I thy power admire,     Rauish'd a world beyond the farthest thought,     That knowing more then euer hath beene taugh"

"In former times, such as had store of coin,     In wars at home or when for conquests bound,     For fear that some their treasure should purloi"

"My fair, if thou wilt register my love,     A world of volumes shall thereof arise;     Preserve my tears, and thou thyself shall prove     A s"

"A witless gallant a young wench that woo'd (Yet his dull spirit her not one jot could move), Entreated me, as e'er I wish'd his good, To write him but"

"Fair stood the wind for France, When we our sails advance; Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Caux, the mouth"

"Love, banish'd Heav'n, on Earth was held in scorn, Wand'ring abroad in need and beggary, And wanting friends, though of a Goddess born, Yet crav'd the"

"You not alone, when you are still alone, O God, from you that I could private be. Since you one were, I never since was one; Since you in me, my self"

"Some men there be which like my method well And much commend the strangeness of my vein; Some say I have a passing pleasing strain; Some say that im m"

"When conquering love did first my heart assail,     Unto mine aid I summoned every sense,     Doubting if that proud tyrant should prevail,"

"Cupid, I hate thee, which I'd have thee know;     A naked starveling ever mayst thou be!     Poor rogue, go pawn thy fascia and thy bow     For"

"BATTE.                 Gorbo, as thou cam'st this waye                 By yonder little hill,                 Or as thou throu"

"To such as say thy loue I ouer-prize,     And doe not sticke to terme my praises folly,     Against these folkes that think them selues so wise,"

"My noble friend, you challenge me to write     To you in verse, and often you recite,     My promise to you, and to send you newes;     As"

"The worlds faire Rose, and Henries frosty fire,     Iohns tyrannie; and chast Matilda's wrong,     Th'inraged Queene, and furious Mortimer,"

"The Muse should be sprightly,     Yet not handling lightly     Things graue; as much loath,     Things that be slight, to cloath     Curiously"

"Farre in the countrey of Arden     There wond a knight hight Cassemen,         as bolde as Isenbras:     Fell was he and eger bent,     In bat"

"You braue Heroique minds,     Worthy your Countries Name;         That Honour still pursue,         Goe, and subdue,     Whilst loyt'ring Hind"

"Couentry, that do'st adorne[1]     The Countrey wherein I was borne,     Yet therein lyes not thy prayse     Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs wit"

"Madam, my words cannot expresse my mind,     My zealous kindnes to make knowne to you,     When your desarts all seuerally I find;     In this"

"If thus we needs must goe,     What shall our one Heart doe,     This One made of our Two?     Madame, two Hearts we brake,     And from them"

"See, chaste Diana, where my harmles hart,     Rouz'd from my breast, his sure and safest layre,     Nor chaste by hound, nor forc'd by Hunters a"

"I will not striue m' inuention to inforce,     With needlesse words your eyes to entertaine,     T' obserue the formall ordinarie course     Th"

"Marvel not, love, though I thy power admire,         Ravished a world beyond the farthest thought,         And knowing more than ever hath been"

"Thou leaden braine, which censur'st what I write,     And say'st my lines be dull and doe not moue,     I meruaile not thou feelst not my deligh"

"Light Sonnets hence, and to loose Louers flie,     And mournfull Maydens sing an Elegie     On those three SHEFFIELDS, ouer-whelm'd with wau"

"Melpomine put on thy mourning Gaberdine,     And set thy song vnto the dolefull Base,     And with thy sable vayle shadow thy face,"

"Vertues Idea in virginitie,     By inspiration, came conceau'd with thought:     The time is come deliuered she must be,     Where first my lou"

"And why not I, as hee     That's greatest, if as free,     (In sundry strains that striue,     Since there so many be)     Th' old Lyrick kind"

"You cannot loue my pretty hart, and why?     There was a time, you told me that you would,     But now againe you will the same deny,     If it"

"Taking my pen, with words to cast my woe,     Duly to count the sum of all my cares,     I find my griefs innumerable grow,     The reck'nings"

"I heare some say, this man is not in loue,     Who, can he loue? a likely thing they say:     Reade but his verse, and it will easily proue;"

"Muses which sadly sit about my chair,     Drowned in the tears extorted by my lines;     With heavy sighs whilst thus I break the air,     Pain"

"Into these loves who but for passion looks,     At this first sight here let him lay them by,     And seek elsewhere in turning other books,"

"Faire Loue rest thee heere,     Neuer yet was morne so cleere,     Sweete be not vnkinde,     Let me thy fauour finde,             Or else for"

"Vppon this sinfull earth     If man can happy be,     And higher then his birth,     (Frend) take him thus from me.     Whome promise not dec"

"Sweete, sleepe so arm'd with Beauties arrowes darting,     Sleepe in thy Beauty, Beauty in sleepe appeareth;     Sleepe lightning Beauty, Beauty"

"A briefe Prologue to the verses following.     Deare Tom, thy booke was like to come to light,     Ere I could gaine but one halfe howre to wri"

"Now, Loue, if thou wilt proue a Conqueror,     Subdue thys Tyrant euer martyring mee;     And but appoint me for her Tormentor,     Then for a"

"In pride of wit, when high desire of fame     Gave life and courage to my lab'ring pen,     And first the sound and virtue of my name     Won g"

"Deare friend, be silent and with patience see,     What this mad times Catastrophe will be;     The worlds first Wisemen certainly mistooke"

"When I first ended, then I first began;     The more I trauell, further from my rest;     Where most I lost, there most of all I wan;     Pyned"

"Since holy Vestall lawes haue been neglected,     The Gods pure fire hath been extinguisht quite;     No Virgin once attending on that light,"

"If he, from heaven that filched that living fire,         Condemned by Jove to endless torment be,         I greatly marvel how you still go fre"

"What dost thou meane to Cheate me of my Heart,     To take all Mine, and giue me none againe?     Or haue thine Eyes such Magike, or that Art,"

"As in some countries far remote from hence,     The wretched creature destind to die,     Having the judgment due to his offence,     By surge"

"O thou fayre siluer Thames: O cleerest chrystall flood,     Beta alone the Phenix is, of all thy watery brood,             The Queene of Virgins"

"Why do I speak of joy or write of love,     When my heart is the very den of horror,     And in my soul the pains of hell I prove,     With all"

"Plain-path'd Experience the vnlearneds guide,     Her simple followers euidently shewes,     Sometime what schoolemen scarcely can decide,"

"Blacke pytchy Night, companyon of my woe,     The Inne of care, the Nurse of drery sorrow,     Why lengthnest thou thy darkest howres so,     S"