Songes and sonettes, written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey, and other

The tale of Pigmalion with con∣clusion vpon the beautie of his loue.

IN Grece somtime there dwelt a man of worthy fame: To graue in stone his cunning was: Pygmaliō was his name, To make his fame endure, when death had him bereft: He thought it good, of his own hand some filed worke were left. In secrete studie then such worke he gan deuise, ••s might his cunning best commend, and please the lookers eyes•• A courser faire he thought to graue, barbd for the field: And on his back a semely knight, well armd with speare & shield: Or els some foule, or fish to graue he did deuise: And still, within his wandering thoughtes, new fansies did arise.

Thus varied he in minde, what enterprise to take: Till fansy moued his learned hand a woman fayre to make. Whe••eon he stayde, and thought such parfite fourme to frame: Whereby he might amaze all Grece, and winne immortall name. Of yuorie white he made so faire a woman than: That nature scornd her perfitnesse so taught by craft of man. Wel shaped were her lims, ful comly was her face: Ech litle vain most liuely coucht, eche part had semely grace. Twixt nature & Pigmalion, there might appere great strife, So semely was this ymage wrought, it lackt nothing but life. His curious eye beheld his own deuised work: And, gasing oft thereon, he found much venome there to lurk. For all the featurde shape so did his fansie moue: That, with his idoll, whom he made, Pygmalion fell in loue. To whom he honour gaue, and deckt with garlandes swete. And did adourn with iewels rich, as is for louers mete. Somtimes on it he fawnd: somtime in rage would cry: It was a wonder to behold, how fansy bleard his eye. Since that this ymage dum enflamde so wise a man: My dere alas, since I you loue, what wonder is it than? In whom hath nature set the glory of her name: And brake her moulde, in great dispaire, your like she coulde not frame.