And on his breast a bloody cross he bore, The dear remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweet sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead (as living) ever him adored: Upon his shield the like was also scored, For sovereign hope, which in his help he had : Upon a great adventure he was bound, (That greatest glorious queen of fairy lond,) A lovely lady rode him fair beside, Upon a lowly ass more white than snow; And by her in line a milk-white lamb she led. So pure and innocent, as that same lamb, She was in life and every virtuous lore, And by descent from royal lineage came Of ancient kings and queens, that had of yore Their sceptres stretcht from east to western shore, Till that infernal fiend with foul uproar Forewasted all their land and them expell'd: Whom to avenge, she had this knight from far compell'd. Behind her far away a dwarf did lag, That lazy seem'd in being ever last, Or wearied with bearing of her bag Of needments at his back. Thus as they past The day with clouds was sudden overcast, And angry Jove an hideous storm of rain Did pour into his leman's lap so fast, That every wight to shroud it did constrain, And this fair couple eke to shroud themselves were fain. Enforced to seek some covert nigh at hand, Nor pierceable with power of any star: And all within were paths and alleys wide, With footing worn, and leading inward far: Fair harbour, that them seems, so in they entered are. M And forth they pass, with pleasure forward led, Joying to hear the birds' sweet harmony, Which therein shrouded from the tempest dread, Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, The sailing pine, the cedar proud and tall, The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry, The builder oak, sole king of forests all, The aspin good for staves, the cypress funeral. The laurel, meed of mighty conquerors And poets sage, the fir that weepeth still, The willow, worn of forlorn paramours, The yew obedient to the bender's will, The carver holme, the maple seldom inward sound: Led with delight, they thus beguile the way, Furthest from end then, when they nearest ween, That which of them to take, in divers doubts they been. LIKE as a ship, that through the ocean wide, Do wander now, in darkness and dismay, My Helice, the lodestar of my life, THE SHEPHERD'S COMMENDATION OF HIS NYMPH. BY EDWARD VERE, EARL OF OXFORD. EDWARD VERE, EARL OF OXFORD, was born about the year 1534, and after having been educated in Cambridge, spent some time on the Continent, from which he returned a perfect coxcomb. He took an active part in the destruction of the Spanish Armada, and sat on the trial of Mary, Queen of Scots. His poems. which are full of conceits, have never been collected. He died in 1604.] WHAT shepherd can express The favour of her face? To whom in this distress I do appeal for grace; A thousand Cupids fly From which each throws a dart That kindleth soft sweet fire Within my sighing heart; Possessed by desire, No sweeter life I try Than in her love to die. |