And the bright evening star with golden creast
Appeare out of the East.

Fayre childe of beauty, glorious lampe of love,
That all the host of heaven in rankes doost lead,
And guydest lovers through the nights sad dread,
How chearefully thou lookest from above,

And seemst to laugh atweene thy twinkling light
As joying in the sight

Of these glad many which for joy doe sing,

That all the woods them answer and their echo ring.

Now ceasse ye damsels your delights forepast;
Enough is it, that all the day was youres:
Now day is doen, and night is nighing fast:
Now bring the Bryde into the brydall boures.
The night is come, now soon her disaray,
And in her bed her lay;

Lay her in lillies and in violets,

And silken courteins over her display,
And odourd sheetes, and Arras coverlets.
Behold how goodly my faire love does ly
In proud humility;

Like unto Maia, when as Jove her tooke,
In Tempe, lying on the flowry gras,

Twixt sleepe and wake, after she weary was,
With bathing in the Acidalian brooke.

Now it is night, ye damsels may be gon,
And leave my Love alone,

And leave likewise your former lay to sing:

The woods no more shall answere, nor your echo ring.

Now welcome night, thou night so long expected,
That long daies labour doest at last defray,

And all my cares, which cruell love collected,
Hast sumd in one, and cancelled for aye:

Spread thy broad wing over my Love and me,
That no man may us see,

And in thy sable mantle us enwrap,

From feare of perrill and foule horror free.
Let no false treason seeke us to entrap,
Nor any dread disquiet once annoy
The safety of our joy:

But let the night be calme and quietsome,
Without tempestuous storms or sad afray :
Lyke as when Jove with fayre Alcmena lay,
When he begot the great Tirynthian groome:
Or lyke as when he with thy selfe did lie,
And begot Majesty.

And let the mayds and yongmen cease to sing:

Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

290

300

310

320

330

Let no lamenting cryes, nor dolefull teares,
Be heard all night within nor yet without:
Ne let false whispers, breeding hidden feares,
Breake gentle sleepe with misconceived dout.
Let no deluding dreames, nor dreadful sights
Make sudden sad affrights;

Ne let house fyres, nor lightnings helpelesse harmes, 340
Ne let the Pouke, nor other evill sprights,

Ne let mischivous witches with theyr charmes,

Ne let Hob-Goblins, names whose sence we see not,

Fray us with things that be not.

Let not the shriech Oule, nor the Storke be heard:
Nor the night Raven that still deadly yels,

Nor damned ghosts cald up with mighty spels,

Nor griesly vultures make us once affeard:

Ne let th'unpleasant Quyre of Frogs still croking
Make us to wish theyr choking.

Let none of these theyr drery accents sing;

Ne let the woods them answer, nor theyr eccho ring.

But let stil Silence trew night watches keepe,

That sacred peace may in assurance rayne,

And tymely sleep, when it is tyme to sleepe,

May poure his limbs forth on your pleasant playne,
The whiles an hundred little winged loves,

Like divers fethered doves,

Shall fly and flutter round about your bed,

And in the secret darke, that none reproves,

350

360

Their prety stealthes shal worke, and snares shal spread, To filch away sweet snatches of delight,

Conceald through covert night.

Ye sonnes of Venus, play your sports at will,
For greedy pleasure, carelesse of your toyes,
Thinks more upon her paradise of joyes,
Then what ye do, albe it good or ill.

All night therefore attend your merry play,
For it will soone be day:

Now none doth hinder you, that say or sing,

370

Ne will the woods now answer, nor your Eccho ring.

Who is the same, which at my window peepes?

Or whose is that faire face which shines so bright,

Is it not Cinthia, she that never sleepes,

But walkes about high heaven al the night?
O fayrest goddesse, do thou not envy

My love with me to spy:

For thou likewise didst love, though now unthought,

And for a fleece of wooll, which privily,

The Latmian shephard once unto thee brought,

His pleasures with thee wrought.

Therefore to us be favorable now;

And sith of wemens labours thou hast charge,

380

And generation goodly dost enlarge,

Encline thy will t'effect our wishfull vow,

And the chast wombe informe with timely seed,
That may our comfort breed:

Till which we cease our hopefull hap to sing,

Ne let the woods us answere, nor our Eccho ring.

And thou great Juno, which with awful might
The lawes of wedlock still dost patronize,
And the religion of the faith first plight
With sacred rites hast taught to solemnize :
And eeke for comfort often called art
Of women in their smart,

Eternally bind thou this lovely band,
And all thy blessings unto us impart.
And thou glad Genius, in whose gentle hand,
The bridale bowre and geniall bed remaine,
Without blemish or staine,

And the sweet pleasures of theyr loves delight
With secret ayde doest succour and supply,
Till they bring forth the fruitfull progeny,
Send us the timely fruit of this same night.
And thou fayre Hebe, and thou Hymen free,
Grant that it may so be.

Til which we cease your further prayse to sing,
Ne any woods shal answer, nor your Eccho ring.
And ye high heavens, the temple of the gods,
In which a thousand torches flaming bright
Doe burne, that to us wretched earthly clods,
In dreadful darknesse lend desired light;

And all ye powers which in the same remayne,
More then we men can fayne,

Poure out your blessing on us plentiously,

And happy influence upon us raine,

That we may raise a large posterity,

Which from the earth, which they may long possesse,

With lasting happinesse,

Up to your haughty pallaces may mount,
And for the guerdon of theyr glorious merit
May heavenly tabernacles there inherit,

Of blessed Saints for to increase the count.

So let us rest, sweet love, in hope of this,
And cease till then our tymely joyes to sing,

The woods no more us answer, nor our eccho ring.

Song made in lieu of many ornaments,

With which my love should duly have been dect,

Which cutting off through hasty accidents,

Ye would not stay your dew time to expect,
But promist both to recompens,

Be unto her a goodly ornament,

And for short time an endlesse moniment.

390

400

410

420

430

PROTHALAMION

OR

A SPOUSALL VERSE MADE BY

EDM. SPENSER

IN HONOUR OF THE DOUBLE MARIAGE OF THE TWO HONORABLE AND VERTUOUS LADIES, THE LADIE ELIZABETH AND THE LADIE KATHERINE SOMERSET, DAUGHTERS TO THE

RIGHT HONOURABLE THE EARLE OF WORCESTER,

AND ESPOUSED ΤΟ THE TWO WORTHIE
GENTLEMEN M. HENRY GILFORD, AND

M. WILLIAM PETER, ESQUYERS.

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,

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 afflict my brayne,
Walkt forth to ease my payne

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,

And crowne their Paramours,

Against the Brydale day, which is not long:

Sweet Themmes runne softly, till I end my Song.
There, in a Meadow, by the Rivers side,
A Flocke of Nymphes I chaunced to espy,
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,

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,
The little Dazie, that at evening closes,
The virgin Lillie, and the Primrose trew,

10

20

20

330

With store of vermeil Roses,

To decke their Bridegromes posies,

Against the Brydale day, which was not long:

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,
Did never whiter shew,

Nor Jove himselfe when he a Swan would be

For love of Leda, whiter did appeare:

Yet Leda was they say as white as he,

Yet not so white as these, nor nothing neare;

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,
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,
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,
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,

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,

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,
All which upon those goodly Birds they threw,
And all the Waves did strew,

40

50

60

70

That like old Peneus Waters they did seeme,
When downe along by pleasant Tempes shore

Scattred with Flowres, through Thessaly they streeme,

80