Poems: by Michaell Draiton Esquire

Henry Howard Earle of Surrey to Geraldine

The Argument.

Henry Howard, that true noble Earle of Surrey, and excellent Poet, falling in loue with Geraldine, descended of the noble family of the Fitzgeralds of Ireland, a faire and modest Lady, and one of the honourable maides to Queene Katherine Dowager: eternizeth her praises in many ex∣cellent Poemes, of rare and sundry inuentions: and after some few yeares being determined to see that famous Italy, the source and Helicon of all excellent Arts; first visiteth that renowned Florence, from whence the Geralds challenge their descent, from the antient family of the Geraldi; there in honour of his Mistresse be aduanceth her picture, and challengeth to maintaine her beautie by deedes of Armes, against all that durst appeare in the lists; where after the proofe of his braue and incomparable valour, whose arme crowned her beauty with eternall memory, he writeth this Epistle to his deerest Mistresse.

FRom learned Florence (long time rich in fame) From whence thy race, thy noble grandsires came, To famous England, the kinde nurse of mine, Thy Surrey sends to heauenly Geraldine; Yet let not Thuscan thinke I do her vvrong,

That I from thence write in my natiue tongue, That in these harsh-tun'd cadences I sing, Sitting so neare the Muses sacred spring, But rather thinke her selfe adorn'd thereby, That England reades the praise of Italie. Though to the Thuscan, I the smoothnes grant, Our dialect no Maiestie doth want, To set thy prayses in as hie a key, As Fraunce, or Spaine, or Germanie, or they. That day I quit the Fore-land of faire Kent, And that my ship her course for Flanders bent; Yet thinke I with how many a heauie looke, My leaue of England and of thee I tooke, And did intreat the tide (if it might be) But to conuey me one sigh backe to thee, Vp to the decke a billow lightly skips, Taking my sigh, and downe againe it slips; Into the gulfe it selfe, it headlong throwes, And as a post to England-ward it goes; As I sit wondring how the rough seas stird, I might farre off perceiue a little bird, Which as she faine from shore to shore would flie Hath lost her selfe in the broad vastie skie, Her feeble wing beginning to deceiue her, The s••a•• of life still gaping to bereaue her; Vnto the ship she makes which she discouers, And there (poore foole) a while for refuge houers, And when at length her flagging pinion failes Panting she hangs vpon the ratling sailes, And being forc'd to loose her hold with paine, Yet beaten off, she straight lights on againe,

And tosst with flaws, with storms, with wind, with we∣ther, Yet still departing thence, stil turneth thether, Now with the poope, now with the prow doth beare, Now on this side, now that, now here, now there, Me thinkes these stormes should be my sad depart, The seely helplesse bird is my poore bart, The ship, to which for succour it repaires, That is your selfe (regardlesse of my cares) Of euery surge doth fall, or waue doth rise, To some one thing I sit and moralize. When for thy loue I left the Belgicke shore, Diuine Erasmus, and our famous Moore, Whose happy presence gaue me such delight; As made a minute of a winters night; With whom a while I staide at Roterdame; Now so renowned by Erasmus name. Yet euery houre did seeme a world of time; Till I had seene that soule-reuiuing clime, And thought the foggy Netherlands vnfit, A watry soyle to clogge a fiery wit; And as that wealthy Germany I past, Comming vnto the Emperours court at last, Great learnd Agrippa, so profound in Art, Who the infernall secrets doth impart, When of thy health I did desire to know, Me in a glasse my Geraldine did shew, Sicke in thy bed, and for thou couldst not sleepe, By a waxe tap••r set thy light to keepe; I doe remember thou didst reade that Ode, Sent backe whilst I in Thanet made abode, Where as thou cam'st vnto the word of loue,

Euen in thine eies I sawe how passion stroue; That snowy lawne which couered thy bed, Me thought lookt white, to see thy cheeke so red, Thy rosie cheeke oft changing in my sight, Yet still was red, to see the lawne so white; The little Taper which should giue thee light, Me thought waxt dim, to see thy eie so bright; Thine eie againe supplies the Tapers turne, And with his beames doth make the taper burne, The shrugging ayre about thy Temple hurles, And wraps thy breath in little clowded curles, And as it doth ascend it strait doth ceaze it, And as it sinks, it presently doth raise it; Canst thou by sicknes banish beautie so? Which if put from thee, knowes not where to goe, To make her shift, and for her succour seeke, To euery riueld face, each bankrupt cheeke, If health preseru'd, thou beautie still doost cherish, If that neglected, beauty soone doth perish. Care drawes on care, woe comforts woe againe, Sorrow breeds sorrow, one griefe brings forth twaine, If liue or die, as thou doost, so doe I, If liue, I liue, and if thou die, I die, One hart, one loue, one ioy, one griefe, one troth, One good, one ill, one life, one death to both, If Howards blood, thou holdst as but too vile, Or not esteemst of Norsfolkes Princely stile, If Scotlands coate no marke of fame can lend, That Lion placde in our bright siluer bend, Which as a trophie beautifies our shield, Since Scottish bloud discoloured Floden field;

When the prowd Cheuiot our braue Ensigne beare, As a rich iewell in a Ladies haire, And did faire Bramstons neighbouring valies choke, With clouds of Canons, fire disgorged smoke, Or Surreys Earledom insufficient be, And not a dower so well contenting thee; Yet am I one of great Apollos heires, The sacred Muses chalenge me for theirs. By Princes, my immortall lines are sung, My flowing verses grac'd with euery tung; The little children when they learne to go, By painfull mothers daded to and fro, Are taught by s••gred numbers to ••••hea••s••, And haue their sweet-lips season'd with my verse; When heauen would striue to do the best it can, And put an Angels spirit into a man; The vtmost power in that great worke doth spend, When to the world a Poet it doth intend, That little difference twixt the Gods and vs, (By them confirm'd) distinguish'd onely thus; Whom they in birth, ordaine to happie dayes, The Gods commit their glorie to our prayse, To eternall life when they dissolue their breath, We likewise share a second power by death: When time shall turne those Amber colours to gray, My verse againe shall guild and make them gay, And tricke them vp in knotted curles anew, And in the Autumne giue a Summers hew; That sacred power, that in my Inke remaines, Shall put fresh blood into thy wither'd vaines, And on thy red decay'd, thy whitenes dead,

Shall set a white, more white, a red, more red; When thy dim sight thy glasse cannot descry. Thy crazed mirrour cannot see thine eie; My verse to tell, what eie, what mirrour was, Glasse to thine eie, an eie vnto thy glasse, Where both thy mirrour and thine eie shall see, What once thou sawst, in that, that saw in thee, And to them both shall tell the simple trueth, What that in purenesse was, vvhat thou in youth. If Florence once should loose her olde renovvne, As famous Athens, novv a fisher tovvne, My lines for thee a Florence shall erect, Which great Apollo euer shall protect, And with the numbers from my penne that falls, Bring marble mines to re-erect those walls; Nor beauteous Stanhope, whom all tongues report, To be the glory of the English Court, Shall by our nation be so much admirde, If euer Surrey truely were inspirde. And famous Wyat, who in numbers sings, To that inchanting Thracian harpers strings, To whome Phoebus (the Poets god) did drinke, A bowle of Nectar filld vnto the brinke, And sweet-tongd Bryan, (whom the Muses kept, And in his Cradle rockt him whilst he slept,) In sacred verses (so diuinely pend) Vpon thy praises euer shall attend. What time I came vnto this famous towne, And made the cause of my arriuall knovvne, Great Medices a list (for triumphs) built, Within the vvhich, vpon a ••ree of gilt,

With thousand sundry rare deuises set,) I did erect thy louely counterfet, To answer those Italian dames desire, Which daily came thy beautie to admire. By which my lion in his gaping jawes Holdeth my launce, and in his dreadfull pawes, Reacheth my gauntlet vnto him that dare A beauty with my Geraldines compare. Which when each manly valiant arme assaies, After so many braue triumphant daies, The glorious prize vpon my launce I bare, By Heralds voyce proclaimde to be thy share; The shiuered staues here for thy beautie broke, with fierce encounters past at euery shocke, when stormie courses answered cuffe for cuffe, Denting prowde Beuers with the counter-buffe, Vpon an altar burnt with holy flame, And sacrifi••de as ensence to thy fame. Where, as the Phoenix from her spiced f••me, Renues herselfe in that she doth consume; So from these sacred ashes liue we both, Euen as that one Arabian wonder dooth. When to my chamber I my selfe retire, Burnt with the sparkes that kindled all this fire, Thinking of England which my hope containes, The happy Ile where Geraldine remaines, Of Hunsdon, where those sweete celestiall eyne, At first did pierce this tender breast of mine; Of Hampton Court, and Windsore, where abound All pleasures that in Paradise werefound; Neere that faire Castle is alittle groue,

With hanging rockes all couered from aboue, Which on the bancke of louely Thames doth stand, Clipt by the water from the other land, vvhose bushy top doth bid the Sun for beare, And checkes those provvde beames that would enter there, vvhose leaues still muttring as the ayre doth breathe; vvith the svveet bubling of the streame beneathe, Doth rocke the senses (whilst the small birds sing,) Lulled asleepe vvith gentle murmuring, vvhere light-soote Fairies sport at prison base, No doubt there is some povver frequents the place, There the soft poplar and smoothe beech doe beare, Our names together carued euery where, And Gordian knots doe curiously entwine, The names of Henry, and of Geraldine. Olet this Groue in happy times to come, Be calld, The Louers blessde Elizium, Whither my Mist••is vvonted to resort, In summers heate in pleasant shades to sport, A thousand sundry names I haue it giuen, And calld it Wonder-hider, Couer-heauen, The roofe vvhere Beautie her rich Court doth keepe, Vnder vvhose compasse all the Starres doe sleepe. There is one tree vvhich now I call to minde, Doth beare these verses carued in his rinde: When Geraldine shall sit in thy faire shade, Fanne her sweete tresses with perfumed aire, Let thy large bonghes a Canopie be made, To keepe the Sunne from gazing on my faire, And when thy spredding braunched armes be suncke, And thou no sap nor pith shalt more retaine,

Eu'n from the dust of thy vnweldy Truncke, I will renue thee Phoenix like againe, And from thy drie decayed roote will bring, Anew-borne Stem, another Aesons spring. I finde no cause, nor iudge I reason why My country should giue place to Lombardy, As goodly flowers on Thamisis doe growe, As beautifie the bankes of wanton Po; As many Nymphs as haunt rich Arnus strand, By siluer Sabrine tripping hand in hand, Our shades as sweete, though not to vs so deere, Because the sunne hath greater power heere. This distant place but giues me greater woe, Farre off, my sighs the farther haue to goe, Ah absence! why thus shouldst thou seeme so long? Or wherefore shouldst thou offer Time such wrong? Summer so soone, should steale on winters colde, Or winters blasts, so soone make summer olde? Loue did vs both with one selfe arrow strike, Our wounds both one, our cure should be the like, Except thou hast found out some meane by art, Some powrefull medicine to withdraw the darte, But mine is fixt, and absents physicke proued, It stickes too fast, it cannot be remoued. Adiew, adew, from Florence when I goe, By my next letters Geraldine shall know, Which if good fortune shall my course direct, From Venice by some messenger exspect, Till when, I leaue thee to thy hearts desire, By him that liues thy vertues to admire.

¶ Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

From learned Florence, long time rich in fame.

FLorence a Citty of Thuscan, standing vpon the Riuer Arnus, (celebrated by Dante Petrarch, and other the most noble wits of Italie) was the originall of the familie, out of which this Ge∣ral line did spring, as Ireland the place of her birth, which is inti∣mated by these verses of the Earle of Surrey.

From Thuscan came my Ladies worthy race, Faire Florence was sometime her ancient seate, The Westerne Ile, whose pleasant shore doth face Wilde Cambers cliffs, did giue her liuely heate.

Great learn'd Agrippa, so profound in Art.

Cornelius Agrippa, a man in his time so famous for Magicke (which the bookes published by him, concerning that argument, do partly proue) as in this place needes no further remembrance. Howbeit, as those abstruse and gloomy Arts are but illusions: so in the honour of so rare a Gentleman as this Earle, (and there∣withall so noble a Poet) (a quality, by which his other titles re∣ceiue their greatest lustre) inuention may make somewhat more bold with Agrippa aboue the barren truth.

That Lion set in our bright siluer bend.

The blazon of the Howards honorable armour, was Gules be∣tweene six crosselets Fitches abend Argent, to which afterwards was added by atchieuement, In the Canton point of the bend an escutche∣on, or within the Scottish tressure, a Demi-lion rampant Gules, &c. as Maister Camden now Clerenceaulx from authoritie noteth. Neuer shall time nor bitter enuie be able to obscure the brightnesse of so great a victory as that, for which this addition was obtained. The Historian of Scotland George Bucchanan reporteth, that the Earle of Surrey gaue for his badge a Siluer Lion, (which from an∣tiquitie belonged to that name) tearing in peeces A Lion prostrate Gules; and withall, that this which he termes insolencie, was pu∣nished in him and his posteritie, as if it were fatall to the Con∣querour,

to doe his Soueraigne such loyall seruice as a thousand such seuere censurers were neuer able to performe.

Since Scottish blood discoloured Floden field.

The batttle was fought at Bramstone neere Floden hill, being a part of the Cheuiot, a mountaine that exceedeth all the moun∣taines in the North of England for bignesse, in which the wilfull periurie of Iames the fifth was punished from heauen by the Earle of Surrey, being left by King Henry the eight (then in France be∣fore Turwin) for the defence of his Realme.

Nor beauteous Stanhope, whom all tongues report To be the glory, &c.

Of the beautie of that Lady, he himselfe testifies in an Elegie which he writ of her, refusing to daunce with him, which hee see∣meth to alegorize vnder a Lion and a Wolfe. And of himselfe he saith:

A Lion saw I late, as white as any snow,

And of her.

I might perceiue a Wolfe as white as Whales bone, A fairer beast, of fresher hue, beheld I neuer none, But that her lookes were coy, and froward was her grace.

And famous Wyat who in numbers sings.

Sir Thomas Wyat the elder, a most excellent Poet, as his Poems extant doe witnesse, besides certaine Encomions written by the Earle of Surrey vppon some of Dauids Psalmes, by him translated.

What holy graue, what worthy Sepulchre, To Wyats Psalmes shall Christians purchase then.

And afterward vpon his death the said Earle writeth thus:

What vertues rare were tempred in thy breast? Honour that England such a iewell bred, And kisse the ground whereas thy corpes did rest.

At Honsdon, where those sweete cel-stiall eyne,

It is manifest by a Sonnet written by this noble Earle, that the first time he beheld his Lady, was at Hunsdon.

Hunsdon did first present her to mine eyne.

Which Sonnet being altogether a description of his loue, I do alleadge in diuers places of this glosse, as proofes of what I write.

Of Hampton Court and Windsor, where abound All pleasures, &c.

That he enioyed the presence of his faire and vertuous Mistris, in those two places, by reason of Queene Katherines vsuall aboad there, (on whom this Lady Geraldine was attending) I proue by these verses of his:

Hampton me tanght to wish her first for mine, Windsor alas doth chase me from her sight.

And in another Sonnet following:

When Winsor walls sustainde my wearied arme, My hand my chin, to ease my restlesse head.

And that his delight might draw him to compare Winsor to Paradice, an Elegy may proue, where he remembreth his passed pleasures in that place.

With a Kings sonne my childish yeeres I pass'd, In greater feast then Priams sonne of Troy.

And againe in the same Elegie;

Those large greene Courts, where we were wont to roue With eyes cast vp vnto the maidens Tower, With easie sighs, such as men draw in loue.

And againe in the same:

The stately seates, the Ladies bright of hue, The dances short, long tales of sweete delight.

And for the pleasantnesse of the place, these verses of his may testifie in the same Elegie before recited.

The secret groues which we haue made resound, With siluer drops the meads yet spread for ruth.

As goodly flowers from Thamisis doe growe, &c.

I had thought in this place not to haue spoken of Thames, be∣ing so oft remembred by mee before, in sundry other places on this occasion: but thinking of that excellent Epigram, which, as I iudge, either to bee done by the said Earle, or Sir Frauncis Brian: for the worthinesse thereof I will heere insert, which, as it seemes to me, was compiled at the Authors being in Spaine.

Tagus farewell, which Westward with thy streames, Turn'st vp the graines of gold already tride, For I withspur and saile go seeke the Thames, Against the Sunne that shewes her wealthy pride; And to the towne that Brutus sought by dreames, Like bended Moone that leanes her lusty side, To seeke my Country now, for whom I liue, O mighty Ioue, for this the windes me giue.

FINIS.