My care is cured, yet hath no end; Ah me, poor wretch, that thus do live, IN SONG. N time we see the silver drops With feeble puffs the tallest pine Where chilling frost alate did nip, Where deep disdain bred noisome hate, Time causeth hope to have his hap: counsel to prevent misfortune. By Robert Greene, Master of Arts. Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. 1617. FROM ALCIDA.* VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A PICTURE OF VENUS, HOLDING THE BALL THAT BROUGHT TROY TO RUIN. WHEN Nature forged the fair unhappy mould, WE Wherein proud beauty took her matchless shape, She over-slipped her cunning and her skill, And aimed too fair, but drew beyond the mark; For thinking to have made a heavenly bliss, For wanton gods to dally with in heaven, And to have framed a precious gem for men, To solace all their dumpish thoughts with glee, She wrought a plague, a poison, and a hell: For gods, for men, thus no way wrought she well. Venus was fair, fair was the queen of love, Fairer than Pallas, or the wife of Jove: Yet did the giglot's beauty grieve the smith, For that she braved the cripple with a horn. Mars said, her beauty was the star of heaven, Yet did her beauty stain him with disgrace. Paris, for fair, gave her the golden ball, And bought his and his father's ruin so. Thus Nature making what should far excel, Lent gods and men a poison and a hell. VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A PICTURE OF A PEACOCK. HE bird of Juno glories in his plumes; THE Pride makes the fowl to prune his feathers so. His spotted train, fetched from old Argus' head, With golden rays like to the brightest sun, 8 Alcida. Greene's Metamorphosis. Wherein is discovered pleasant transformation of bodies into sundry shapes, showing that as virtues beautify the mind, so vanities give greater stains than the Inserteth self-love in a silly bird, He spies his feet, and then lets fall his plumes. VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A CARVING OF MERCURY, THROWING THE Wit is the load-star of each human thought, perfection of any quality can rase out; the Discourse confirmed with divers merry and delightful histories; full of grave principles to content age, and sauced with pleasant parlees and witty answers to satisfy youth; profitable for both, and not offensive to any. By R. G. Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci. 1617. VERSES WRITTEN UNDER A CARVING OF CUPID, BLOWING BLADDERS IN THE AIR. OVE is a lock that linketh noble minds, Faith is the key that shuts the spring of love, Lightness a wrest that wringeth all awry, Lightness a plague that fancy cannot brook: Lightness in love so bad and base a thing, As foul disgrace to greatest states do bring. VERSES WRITTEN ON TWO TABLES AT A TOMB. ON THE FIRST TABLE. THE Graces in their glory never gave A rich or greater good to womankind, Whose painted hue fades with the summer sun; THE ON THE SECOND TABLE. THE fairest gem, oft blemished with a crack, Of greater majesty than Juno was, More chaste than Vesta, goddess of the maids, Be she a blab, and tattles what she hears, RE MADRIGAL. EST thee, desire, gaze not at such a star; Sweet fancy, sleep; love, take a nap a while; My busy thoughts that reach and roam so far, With pleasant dreams the length of time beguile; Fair Venus, cool my over-heated breast, And let my fancy take her wonted rest. Cupid abroad was lated in the night, His wings were wet with ranging in the rain; Harbour he sought, to me he took his flight, To dry his plumes: I heard the boy complain; Looking more narrow by the fire's flame, He pierced the quick, that I began to start; |