Poems: by Michaell Draiton Esquire

Geraldine to Henry Howard Earle of Surrey.

SVch greeting as the noble Surrey sends, The same to thee thy Geraldine commends; A maidens thoughts do checke my trembling hand, On other termes, or complements to stand, Which (might my speech be as my heart affords) Should come attired in farre richer vvords; But all is one, my faith as firme shall proue, As hers that makes the greatest shevv of loue. In Cupids Schoole I neuer read those bookes. vvhose lectures oftvve practise in our lookes, Nor euer did suspitions riuall eye, Yet lie in vvaite my fauours to espie, My virgine thoughts are innocent and meeke, As the chaste blushes sitting on my cheeke:

As in a feuer I do shiuer yet, Since first my pen was to the paper set. If I do erre, you know my sexe is weake, Feare proues a fault, where maids are forc'd to speake; Do I not ill? ah sooth me not heerein, O, if I doe, reproue me of my sin, Chide me infaith, or if my fault you hide, My tongue will teach my selfe, my selfe to chide. Nay noble Surrey, blot it if thou wilt, Then too much boldnesse should returne my guilt; For that should be euen from our selues concealde, Which is disclosde, if to our thoughts reuealde, For the least motion, more the smallest breath, That may impeach our modestie, is death; The page that brought thy letters to my hand, (Me thinks) should meruaile at my strange demand, For till he blush'd I did not yet espie, The nakednesse of my immodestie, Which in my face he greater might haue seene, But that my sanne I quickly put betweene; Yet scarcely that my inward guilt could hide, Feare seeing all, feares it of all espide. Like to a taper lately burning bright, Now wanting matter to maintaine his light. The blaze ascending forced by the smoke, Liuing by that which seekes the same to choke; The flame still hanging in the ayre, doth burne, Vntill drawne downe, it backe againe returne. Then cleere, then dim, then spreadeth, & then closeth, Now getteth strength, and now his brightnesse loseth. As well the best discerning eye may doubt,

Whether it yet be in, or whether out: Thus in my cheeke my diuers passions shew'd, Now ashy pale, and now againe it glow'd; If in your verse there be a power to moue, It's you alone, who are the cause I loue, It's you bewitch my bosome by mine eare, Vnto that end I did not place you there. Ayres to asswage the bloody souldiers minde, Poore women, we are naturally kinde. Perhaps you'le thinke that I these termes enforce, For that in Court this kindenesse is of course, Or that it is that honny-steeped gall, We oft are said to bait our loues withall, That in one eye we carry strong desire, The other drops which quickly quench the fire; Ah, what so false can Enuy speake of vs, But shall finde some too vainely credulous? I do not so, and to adde proofe thereto, I loue in faith, in faith sweete Lord I do; Nor let the enuie of enuenom'd tongues, Which still is grounded on poore Ladies wrongs, Thy noble breast diasterly possesse, By any doubt to make my loue the lesse: My house from Florence I do not pretend, Nor from Giraldi claime I to descend, Nor hold those honours insufficient are, That I receiue from Desmond or Kyldare; Nor adde I greater worth vnto my blood, Than Irish milke to giue me infant food, Nor better ayre will euer boast to breathe, Then that of Lemster, Mounster, or of Meathe,

Nor craue I other forraine farre alies, Then Windsor or Fitz-geralds families. It is enough to leaue vnto my heires, If they will but acknowledge me for theires. To what place euer did the Court remoue, But that the howse giues matter to my loue, At Windsor still I see thee sit and walke, There mount thy Courser, there deuise, there talke: The roabes, the garter, and the state of Kings, Into my thoughts thy hoped greatnes brings; Non such, the name imports (me thinks) so much, None such as thou, nor as my Lord, none such, In Hamptons great magnificence I finde, The liuely image of thy princely minde, Faire Richmonds Towers like goodly pillars stand, Rearde by the power of thy victorious hand; White-halls triumphing galleries are yet Adornde with rich deuises of thy wit, In Greenewich yet as in a glasse I view, Where last thou badst thy Geraldine adiew, VVith euery little gentle breath that blowes, How are my thoughts confusde with ioyes & woes, As through a gate, so through my longing eares, Passe to my hart whole multitudes of feares; O in a map that I might see thee show, The place where now in danger thou doost goe! VVhilst we discourse to trauaile with our eye, Romania, ruscaine, and faire Lumbardy, Or with thy pen exactly to set downe, The modell of that Tempell, or that Towne, And to relate at large where thou hast beene,

And there, and there, and what thou there hast seene. Or to describe by figure of thy hand, There Naples lies, and there doth Florence stand; Or as the Grecians finger dip'd in wine, Drawing a Riuer in a little line, And with a drop, a gulfe to figure out, To modell Venice moted round about; Then adding more, to counterfet a Sea, And draw the front of stately Genoa. These from thy lips were like harmonious tones, Which now do found like Mandrakes dreadful grones. Some trauell hence t'enrich their mindes with skill, Leaue heere their good, and bring home others ill: VVhich seeme to like all Countries but their owne, Affecting most where they the least are knowne. Their leg, their thigh, their back, their neck, their head, As they had been in seuerall Countries bred; In their attire, their jesture, and their gate, Fond in each one, in all Italionate. So well in all deformitie in fashion, Borrowing a limbe on euery seuerall Nation, And nothing more then England hold in scorne, So liue as strangers where as they were borne. But thy returne in this I do not reede, Thou art a perfect Gentleman indeede; O God forbid that Howards noble line, From ancient vertue should so farre decline, The Muses traine (whereof your selfe are chiefe) Onely with me participate their griefe: To sooth their humors, I do lend them eares, He giues a Poet, that his verses heares,

Till thy returne, by hope they onely liue; Yet had they all, they all avvay would giue: The world and they, so ill according be, That wealth and Poets neuer can agree. Few liue in Court that of their good haue care, The Muses friends are euery where so rare; Some praise thy worth (that it did neuer know,) Onely because the better sort doe so, Whose iudgement neuer further doth extend, Then it doth please the greatest to commend, So great an ill vpon desert doth chaunce, When it doth passe by beastly ignoraunce. Why arte thou slacke whilst no man puts his hand To raise the mount vvhere Surreys tovvers must stand▪ Or who the groundsill of that worke doth lay Whilst like a wandrer thou abroade doost stray? Clipt in the armes of some lasciuious dame, When thou shouldst reare an ••••on to thy name. When shall the Muses by faire Norwhich dvvell, To be the Cittie of the learned VVell? Or Phoebus altars there with incense heapt, As once in Cyrrha, or in Thebe kept? Or vvhen shall that faire hoofe-plowd spring distill From great mount Surrey, out of Leonards hill; Till thou returne, the Court I will exchange For some poore cottage, or some countrey Grange, Where to our distaues as we sit and spin, My maide and I will tell of things haue bin, Our Lutes vnstrung shall hang vpon the wall, Our lessons serue to wrap our Towe withall, And passe the night, whiles winter tales we tell,

Of many things that long ago befell; Or tune such homely Carrols as were sung In Countrey sports when we our selues were yung. In prettie R••ddles to bewray our loues, In questions, purpose, or in drawing gloues. The nob est spirits to vertue most inclind, These heere in Court thy greatest want do find. Other there be, on which we feede our eye, Like Arras worke or such like Imagerie; Many of vs desire Queene Katherines state, ••ut very few her vertues imitate. Then, as Vlyffes wife vvrite I to thee, Make no reply, but come thy selfe to me.

¶ Notes of the Chronicle Historie.

Then Windsore, or Fitzgeralds families.

THE cost of many Kings, which from time to time haue ador∣ned the Castle at Windsor with their princely magnificence, ••at•• made it more noble then that it need to hee spoken of now, as though obscure, and I hold it more meet to referre you to our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 monuments for the founders and finishers thereof, then to meddle with matter nothing neere to the purpose. As for the fa∣mily of the Fitz-gerald, of whence this excellent Lady was line∣••lly discended, the original was English, though the branches did pr••••d themselues into distant places & names nothing cōsonant, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in former times it was vsual to denominate themselues of their ••nanours o•• ••orenames: as may partly appeare in that which en∣••u••th the light whereof proceeded from my learned and verie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 friend, Maister Francis Thinne, Walter of Windsor, the ••onne of Oterus, had issue William, of whom Henry now Lord Windsor is discended, and Robert of Windsor, of whom Robert

the now Earle of Essex, and Gerald of Windsor his third sonne, who married the daughter of R••es the great Prince of Wales, of whom came Nesta, para••our to Henry the first. Which Gerald had issue Maurice Fitz-gerald, auncestor to Thomas Fitz-maurice, Iustice of Ireland buried at Trayly; leauing issue Iohn his eldest sonne, first Earle of Kildare, ancestor to Geraldine, and Maurice his second sonne, first earle of Des••oond.

To raisethe mount where Surreys Towers must stand,

Alludeth to the sumptuous house which was afterward builded by him vpon Leonards hill right against Norwich, which in the rebellion of Norffolke vnder Ket, inking Edward the 6. time, was much defaced by that impure rabble. Betvvixt the hil and the Ci∣tie, as Alexander Neuill describes it, the riuer of Yarmouth runs, hauing West and South thereof a wood, and a little Village called Thorpe, and on the North, the pastures of Mousholl, which containes about sixe miles in length and breadth. So that besides the stately greatnes of Mount-Surrey, which was the houses name: the prospect and site thereof was passing pleasant and commodious; and no where else did that encreasing euill of the Norffolke furie enk••nnell it selfe but then there, as it were for a manifest token of their intent, to debase all high things, and to prophaneall holy.

Like Arras worke, or other imagerie.

Such was he whom ••••uenall taxeth in this manner.

—truncoque similimus Hermae Nullo quippe al••o vineis discrimine quamquod, Illi marmoreum caput est, tua v••••it image.

Being to be borne for nothing else but apparell and the out∣ward appearance, intituled Complement, with whom theridicu∣lous fable of the Ape in Esope sorteth fitly, who comming into a Caruers house, and viewing many Marble workes, tooke vp the head of a man very cunningly wrought, who greatly in praysing did seeme to pittie it, that hauing so comely an outside, it had no∣thing within, like emptie figures walke and talke in euery place, at whom the noble Geraldine modestly glanceth.

Finis.