Page:Works of Edmund Spenser - 1857.djvu/489

---

Our pleasant groves, which planted were with paines,
That with our musick wont so oft to ring,

And arbors sweet, in which the shepheards swaines
Were wont so oft their pastoralls to sing, 280
They have cut downe, and all their pleasaunce mard,
That now no pastorall is to bee hard.

In stead of them, fowle goblins and shriek-owles
With fearfull howling do all places fill ;
And feeble Eccho now laments, and howles,
‘The dreadful accents of their outeries shrill.
So all is turned into wildernesse,

Whilest Ignorance the muses doth oppresse.

And I, whose ioy was earst with spirit full
To teach the warbling pipe to sound aloft,
(My spirits now dismayd with sorrow dull,)
Doo mone my miserie with silence soft.
‘Therefore I mourne and waile incessantly,
Till please the heavens affoord me remedy.—

Therewith shee wayled with exceeding woe,
And pitious lamentation did make ;

And all her sisters, seeing her doo soe,
With equall plaints her sorrowe did partake.
So rested shee: and then the next in rew
Began her grievous plaint, as doth ensew.

TERPSICHORE.
Wauoso hath in the lap of soft delight
Been long time luld, and fed with pleasures sweet,
Feareles through his own fault or fortunes spight
To tumble into sorrow and regreet,
Yf chaunce him fall into calamitie,
Finds greater burthen of his miserie.

So wee that earst in ioyance did abound,

And in the bosome of all blis did sit,

Like virgin queenes, with laurell garlands cround,

For vertues meed and ornament of wit ! 310
Sith Ignorance our kingdome did confound,

Be now become most wretched wightes on ground.

And in our royall thrones, which lately stood
In th’ hearts of men to rule them carelully,

He now hath placed his accursed brood,

By him begotten of fowle Infamy ;

Blind Error, scornefull Folie, and base Spight,
Who hold by wrong that wee should have by right.

They to the vulgar sort now pipe and sing,

And make them merie with their fooleries: 320
‘They cherelie chaunt, and rymes at randon fling,
The fruitful spawne of their ranke fantasies ;

They fede the eares of fooles with flattery,

And good men blame, and losels magnify.

Alll places they doo with their toyes possesse, 325
And raigne in liking of the multitude ;

The schooles they fil with fond new-fanzlenesse,
Aud sway in court with pride and rashnes rude ;
Mongst simple shepheards they do boast their skill,
And say their musicke mateaeth Phoebus quill. 330

The noble hearts to pleasures they allure,

And tell their prince that learning is but vaine ;
Faire ladies loves they spot with thoughts impure,
And gentle mindes with lewd delights distaine ;
Clerks they to loathly idlenes entice,

And fill their bookes with discipline of vice.
So every where they rule, and tyrannize,

For their usurped kingdomes maintenaunce,

The whiles we silly niaides, whom they dispize,
And with reprochfull scone discountenaunce, 340
From our owne native heritage exilde,

Walk through the world of every one revilde.

Nor anie one doth care to call us in,

Or once vouchsafeth us to entertaine,
Unlesse some one perhaps of gentle kin,
For pitties sake, compassion our paine,
And yeeld us some reliefe in this distresse ;
Yet to be so reliev'd is wretchednesse.
So wander we all carefull comfortlesse,

Yet none doth care to comfort us at all :

So seeke we helpe our sorrow to redresse,
Yet none vouchsafes to answere to our call ;
Therefore we mourne and pittilesse complaine,
Because none living pittieth our paine.—

With that she wept and wofullie waymented,
That naught on earth her griefe might pacifie ;
And all the rest her dolefull din auginented
With shrikes, and groanes, and grievous agonie.
So ended shee: and then the next in rew,
Began her piteous plaint, as doth ensew.

ERATO,
Ye gentle siprits! breathing from above,
Where ye in Venus silver howre were bred,
Thoughts halfe devine, full of the fire of love,
With beautie kindled, and with pleasure fed,
Which ye now in securitie possesse, 365
Forgetfull of your former heavinesse ;

Now change the tenor of your joyous layes,
With which ye use your loves to deifie,
And blazon foorth an earthly beauties praise
Above the compasse of the arched skie:
Now change your praises into piteous cries,
And eulogies turne into elegies.
Such as ye wont, whenas those bitter stounds

Of raging love first gan you to torment,

And launch your hearts with lamentable wounds
Of secret sorrow and sad languishment, 376
Before your loves did take you unto grace;

Those now renew as fitter for this place.

For I that rule, in measure moderate,

‘The tempest of that stormie passion,

And use to paint in rimes the troubloua state
Of lovers lite in likest fashion,

Am put from practise of my kindlie skill,
Banisht by those that love with leawdnes fill.

Love wont to be schoolmaster of my shill, 385
And the devisefull matter of my song ;

Sweete Love devoyd of villanie or ill,

But pure and spotles, as at first he sprong
Out of th’ Almighties bosome, where he nests ;
From thence infused into mortall brests. 390
Such high conceipt of that celestiall fire,

The base-borue brood of Blindnes cannot gesse,
Ne ever dare their dunghill thoughts aspire
Unto so loftie pitch of perfectnesse,

But rime at riot, and deo rage in love ;

Yet hte wote what doth thereto behove.