Six Centuries of English Poetry Part 37

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on sh.o.r.e, To one thing constant never: Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe, Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leafy: Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.

SUNSHINE AND CLOUD.

[SONNET x.x.xIII.]

Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendor on my brow; But out, alack! he was but one hour mine; The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now.

Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain, when heaven's sun staineth.

THE WORLD'S WAY.

[SONNET LXVI.]

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry,-- As, to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honor shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disabled, And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill, And simple truth miscall'd simplicity, And captive Good attending captain Ill: Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,-- Save that, to die, I leave my Love alone.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE was born at Stratford-on-Avon in April, 1564, and died there April 23, 1616. His fame rests chiefly upon his dramatic compositions. His two narrative poems, "Venus and Adonis" and "The Rape of Lucrece," were published in 1593 and 1594, before any of his plays had been printed. They may be regarded as companion pieces, written in the same style and distinguished by similar characteristics.

"A couple of ice-houses," says Dowden, "these two poems of Shakespeare have been called by Hazlitt; 'they are,' he says, 'as hard, as glittering, as cold.' Cold indeed they will seem to any one who listens to hear in them the natural cry of human pa.s.sion. But the paradox is true, that for a young poet of Elizabeth's age to be natural, direct, simple, would have been indeed unnatural. He was most happy when most fantastical; he spun a shining web to catch conceits inevitably as a spider casts his thread; the quick-building wit was itself warm while erecting its ice-houses." Coleridge says of the "Venus and Adonis" that its most obvious excellence "is the perfect sweetness of the versification; its adaptation to the subject; and the power displayed in varying the march of the words without pa.s.sing into a loftier and more majestic rhythm than was demanded by the thoughts, or permitted by the propriety of preserving a sense of melody predominant."

Shakespeare's "Sonnets" were published in 1609. Concerning the origin, purpose, and interpretation of these poems, many widely different theories have been proposed, "Some have looked on them as one poem."

says Fleay; "some as several poems--of groups of sonnets; some as containing a separate poem in each sonnet. They have been supposed to be written in Shakespeare's own person, or in the character of another, or of several others; to be autobiographical or heterobiographical or allegorical; to have been addressed to Lord Southampton, to Sir William Herbert, to his own wife, to Lady Rich, to his child, to himself, to his Muse." The safest and wisest course seems to be, first to regard each of the one hundred and fifty-four sonnets as a poem complete in itself, and after studying whatever it may contain of art, or beauty, or truth, then to discover, if possible, its relationship to those which precede or follow it in the series.

Of the other poems written by Shakespeare, mention should be made of "The Pa.s.sionate Pilgrim" (1559), "The Phoenix and the Turtle" (1601), "A Lover's Complaint," published in the same volume with the "Sonnets," and the few exquisite little songs scattered through his plays.

Edmund Spenser.

THE CAVE OF MAMMON.

Guyon findes Mammon in a delve{1} Sunning his threasure h.o.r.e{2}; Is by him tempted, and led downe To see his secrete store.

As Pilot well expert in perilous wave, That to a stedfast starre{3} his course hath bent, When foggy mistes or cloudy tempests have The faithfull light of that faire lampe yblent,{4} And cover'd heaven with hideous dreriment,{5} Upon his card and compas firmes{6} his eye, The maysters of his long experiment, And to them does the steddy helme apply, Bidding his winged vessell fairely forward fly:

So Guyon having lost his trustie guyde, Late left beyond that Ydle lake, proceedes Yet on his way, of none accompanyde; And evermore himselfe with comfort feedes Of his own vertues and praise-worthie deedes.

So, long he yode,{7} yet no adventure found, Which fame of her shrill trumpet worthy reedes{8}; For still he traveild through wide wastfull ground, That nought but desert wildernesse shewed all around.

At last he came unto a gloomy glade, Cover'd with boughes and shrubs from heavens light, Whereas he sitting found in secret shade An uncouth, salvage,{9} and uncivile wight, Of griesly hew and fowle ill-favour'd sight; His face with smoke was tand, and eies were bleard, His head and beard with sout were ill bedight,{10} His cole-blacke hands did seeme to have been seard In smythes fire-spitting{11} forge, and nayles like clawes appear.

His yron cote, all overgrowne with rust, Was underneath enveloped with gold; Whose glistring glosse, darkned with filthy dust, Well yet appeared to have beene of old A worke of rich entayle{12} and curious mould, Woven with antickes{13} and wyld ymagery; And in his lap a ma.s.se of coyne he told, And turned upside downe, to feede his eye And covetous desire with his huge threasury.

And round about him lay on every side Great heapes of gold that never could be spent; Of which some were rude owre, not purifide Of Mulcibers{14} devouring element; Some others were new driven, and distent Into great Ingowes and to wedges square; Some in round plates withouten moniment{15}; But most were stampt, and in their metal bare The antique shapes of kings and kesars straunge and rare.

Soone as he Guyon saw, in great affright And haste he rose for to remove aside Those pretious hils from straungers envious sight, And downe them poured through an hole full wide Into the hollow earth, them there to hide.

But Guyon, lightly to him leaping, stayd His hand that trembled as one terrifyde; And though himselfe were at the sight dismayd, Yet him perforce restraynd, and to him doubtfull sayd:

"What art thou, man, (if man at all thou art) That here in desert hast thine habitaunce, And these rich hils of welth doest hide apart From the worldes eye, and from her right usaunce?"

Thereat, with staring eyes fixed askaunce, In great disdaine he answerd: "Hardy Elfe, That darest view my direfull countenaunce, I read thee rash and heedlesse of thy selfe, To trouble my still seate, and heapes of pretious pelfe.

"G.o.d of the world and worldlings I me call, Great Mammon, greatest G.o.d below the skye, That of my plenty poure out unto all, And unto none my graces do envye: Riches, renowme, and princ.i.p.ality, Honour, estate, and all this worldes good, For which men swinck{16} and sweat incessantly, Fro me do flow into an ample flood, And in the hollow earth have their eternall brood.

"Wherefore, if me thou deigne to serve and sew,{17} At thy commaund lo! all these mountaines bee: Or if to thy great mind, or greedy vew, All these may not suffise, there shall to thee Ten times so much be nombred francke and free."

"Mammon," (said he) "thy G.o.dheads vaunt is vaine, And idle offers of thy golden fee; To them that covet such eye-glutting gaine Proffer thy giftes, and fitter servaunts entertaine.

"Me ill besits,{18} that in derdoing, armes And honours suit my vowd daies do spend, Unto thy bounteous baytes and pleasing charmes, With which weake men thou witchest, to attend; Regard of worldly mucke{19} doth fowly blend, And low abase the high heroicke spright,{20} That joyes for crownes and kingdomes to contend: Faire shields, gay steedes, bright armes be my delight; Those be the riches fit for an advent'rous knight."

"Vaine glorious Elfe," (saide he) "doest not thou weet,{21} That money can thy wantes at will supply?

Sheilds, steeds, and armes, and all things for thee meet, It can purvay in twinckling of an eye; And crownes and kingdomes to thee multiply.

Do not I kings create, and throw the crowne Sometimes to him that low in dust doth ly, And him that raignd into his rowme thrust downe, And whom I l.u.s.t do heape with glory and renowne?"

"All otherwise" (saide he) "I riches read, And deeme them roote of all disquietnesse; First got with guile, and then preserv'd with dread, And after spent with pride and lavishnesse, Leaving behind them griefe and heavinesse: Infinite mischiefes of them doe arize, Strife and debate, bloodshed and bitternesse, Outrageous wrong, and h.e.l.lish covetize, That n.o.ble heart as great dishonour doth despize.

"Ne thine be kingdomes, ne the scepters thine; But realmes and rulers thou doest both confound, And loyall truth to treason doest incline: Witnesse the guiltlesse blood pourd oft on ground, The crowned often slaine, the slayer cround; The sacred Diademe in peeces rent, And purple robe gored with many a wound, Castles surprizd, great cities sackt and brent; So mak'st thou kings, and gaynest wrongfull government.

"Long were to tell the troublous stormes that tosse The private state, and make the life unsweet: Who swelling sayles in Caspian sea doth crosse, And in frayle wood on Adrian gulf doth fleet, Doth not, I weene, so many evils meet."

Then Mammon wexing wroth: "And why then," sayd, "Are mortall men so fond{22} and undiscreet So evill thing to seeke unto their ayd, And having not complaine, and having it upbrayd?"

"Indeede," (quoth he) "through fowle intemperaunce Frayle men are oft captiv'd to covetise; But would they thinke with how small allowaunce Untroubled Nature doth herselfe suffise, Such superfluities they would despise, Which with sad cares empeach{23} our native joyes.

At the well-head the purest streames arise; But mucky filth his braunching armes annoyes, And with uncomely weedes the gentle wave accloyes.{24}

"The antique world, in his first flowring youth, Fownd no defect in his Creators grace; But with glad thankes, and unreproved truth,{25} The gifts of soveraine bounty did embrace: Like Angels life was then mens happy cace; But later ages pride, like corn-fed steed, Abusd her plenty and fat swolne encreace To all licentious l.u.s.t, and gan exceed The measure of her meane and naturall first need.

"Then gan a cursed hand the quiet wombe Of his great Grandmother{26} with steele to wound, And the hid treasures in her sacred tombe With Sacriledge to dig. Therein he fownd Fountaines of gold and silver to abownd, Of which the matter of his huge desire And pompous pride eftsoones he did compownd; Then avarice gan through his veines inspire His greedy flames, and kindled life-devouring fire."

"Sonne," (said he then) "lett be{27} thy bitter scorne, And leave the rudenesse of that antique age To them that liv'd therein, in state forlorne: Thou, that doest live in later times, must wage{28} Thy workes for wealth, and life for gold engage.

If then thee list my offred grace to use, Take what thou please of all this surplusage; If thee list not, leave have thou to refuse: But refused doe not afterward accuse."

"Me list{29} not" (said the Elfin knight) "receave Thing offred, till I know it well be gott; Ne wote but thou didst these goods bereave From rightfull owner by unrighteous lott, Or that bloodguiltinesse or guile them blott."

"Perdy,"{30} (quoth he) "yet never eie did vew, Ne tong did tell, ne hand these handled not; But safe I have them kept in secret mew From hevens sight, and powre of al which them poursew.

"What secret place" (quoth he) "can safely hold So huge a ma.s.se, and hide from heaven's eie?