{"collection":"Northern European Mythology","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/neu/eng/fq/fq83.htm","path":"neu/eng/fq/fq83.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/neu/eng/fq/fq83.htm","text":"A Vision vpon this conceipt of the Faery Queene.\nME\n thought I saw the graue where Laura lay\n \nWithin that Temple, where the vestall flame\nWas wont to burne, and passing by that way,\nTo see that buried dust of liuing fame,\nWhose tombe faire loue, and fairer vertue kept,\nAll suddenly I saw the Faery Queene:\nAt whose approch the soule of Petrarke wept,\nAnd from thenceforth those graces were not seene.\nFor they this Queene attended, in whose steed\nObliuion laid him downe on Lauras herse:\nHereat the hardest stones were seene to bleed,\nAnd grones of buried ghostes the heuens did perse.\nWhere Homers spright did tremble all for griefe,\nAnd curst th'accesse of that celestiall theife.\nTHe\n prayse of meaner wits this worke like profit brings,\n \nAs doth the Cuckoes song delight when Philumena sings.\nIf thou hast formed right true vertues face herein:\nVertue her selfe can best discerne, to whom they writen bin.\nIf thou hast beauty praysd, let her sole looks diuine\nIudge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by her meine.\nIf Chastitie want ought, or Temperaunce her dew,\nBehold her Princely mind aright, and write thy Queene anew.\nMeane while she shall perceiue, how far her vertues sore\nAboue the reach of all that liue, or such as wrote of yore:\nAnd thereby will excuse and fauour thy good will:\nWhose vertue can not be exprest, but by an Angels quill.\nOf me no lines are lou'd, nor letters are of price,\nOf all which speak our English tongue, but those of thy deuice.\nTo the learned Shepeheard.\nCOllyn\n I see by thy new taken taske,\n \nsome sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes,\nThat leades thy muse in hautie verse to maske,\nand loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes.\nThat lifts thy notes from Shepheardes vnto kinges\nSo like the liuely Larke that mounting singes.\n\u00a0Thy louely Rosolinde seemes\n now forlorne,\n \nand all thy gentle flocks forgotten\n quight,\n \nThy chaunged hart now holdes\n thy pypes in scorne,\n \nthose prety pypes that did thy\n mates delight.\n \nThose trustie mates, that loued\n thee so well,\n \nVVhom thou gau'st mirth: as they\n gaue thee the bell.\n \n\u00a0Yet as thou earst with thy\n sweete roundelayes,\n \ndidst stirre to glee our laddes\n in homely bowers:\n \nSo moughtst thou now in these\n refyned layes,\n \ndelight the daintie eares of\n higher powers.\n \nAnd so mought they in their deepe\n skanning skill\n \nAlow and grace our Collyns flowing\n quill.\n \n\u00a0And fare befall that Faery\n Queene of thine,\n \nin whose faire eyes loue linckt\n with vertue sites:\n \nEnfusing by those bewties fyers\n deuine,\n \nsuch high conceites into thy\n humble wits,\n \nAs raised hath poore pastors\n oaten reede,\n \nFrom rustick tunes, to chaunt\n heroique deedes.\n \n\u00a0So mought thy Redcrosse\n knight with happy hand\n \nvictorious be in that faire Ilands\n right:\n \nWhich thou dost vaile in Type\n of Faery land\n \nElyzaes blessed field, that Albion\n hight.\n \nThat shieldes her friends, and\n warres her mightie foes,\n \nYet still with people, peace,\n and plentie flowes.\n \n\u00a0But (iolly Shepheard) though\n with pleasing style,\n \nthou feast the humour of the\n Courtly traine:\n \nLet not conceipt thy setled sence\n beguile,\n \nne daunted be through enuy or\n disdaine.\n \nSubiect thy dome to her Empyring\n spright,\n \nFrom whence thy Muse, and all\n the world takes light.\nFAyre\n Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately towne,\n \nRunst paying tribute to the Ocean seas,\nLet all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renowne\nBe silent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes:\nNere thy sweet bankes, there liues that sacred crowne,\nWhose hand strowes Palme and neuer-dying bayes.\nLet all at once with thy soft murmuring sowne\nPresent her with this worthy Poets prayes.\nFor he hath taught hye drifts in Shepeherdes weedes,\nAnd deepe conceites now singes in Faeries deedes.\nGRaue\n Muses march in triumph and with prayses,\n \nOur Goddesse here hath giuen you leaue to land:\nAnd biddes this rare dispenser of your graces\nBow downe his brow vnto her sacred hand.\nDesertes findes dew in that most princely doome,\nIn whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde:\nSo did that great Augustus erst in Roome\nWith leaues of fame adorne his Poets hedde.\nFaire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene,\nEuen of the fairest that the world hath seene.\nWHen\n stout Achilles heard of Helen's rape\n \nAnd what reuenge the States of Greece deuisd:\nThinking by sleight the fatall warres to scape,\nIn womens weedes him selfe he then disguisde.\nBut this deuise Vlysses soone did spy,\nAnd brought him forth, the chaunce of warre to try.\n\u00a0When Spencer saw the\n fame was spredd so large\n \nThrough Faery land of their renowned\n Queene:\n \nLoth that his Muse should take so\n great a charge,\n \nAs in such haughty matter to be\n seene,\n \nTo seeme a Shepeheard then he made\n his choice,\n \nBut Sidney heard him sing,\n and knew his voice.\n \n\u00a0And as Vlysses brought\n faire Thetis sonne\n \nFrom his retyred life to menage\n armes:\n \nSo Spencer was by Sidneys\n speaches wonne,\n \nTo blaze her fame not fearing future\n harmes:\n \nFor well he knew, his Muse would\n soone be tyred\n \nIn her high praise, that all the\n world admired.\n \n\u00a0Yet as Achilles in those\n warlike frayes,\n \nDid win the palme from all the Grecian\n Peeres:\n \nSo Spencer now to his immortall\n prayse,\n \nHath wonne the Laurell quite from\n all his feres.\n \nWhat though his taske exceed a humaine\n witt\n \nHe is excus'd, sith Sidney\n thought it fitt.\nTO\n looke vpon a worke of rare deuise\n \nThe which a workman setteth out to view,\nAnd not to yield it the deserued prise,\nThat vnto such a workmanship is dew,\nDoth either proue the iudgement to be naught\nOr els doth shew a mind with enuy fraught.\n\u00a0To labour to commend a peece\n of worke,\n \nWhich no man goes about to discommend,\n \nWould raise a iealous doubt that\n there did lurke\n \nSome secret doubt, whereto the\n prayse did tend.\n \nFor when men know the goodnes\n of the wyne,\n \nTis needlesse for the hoast to\n haue a sygne.\n \n\u00a0Thus then to shew my iudgement\n to be such\n \nAs can discern of colours blacke,\n and white,\n \nAs alls to free my minde from\n enuies tuch,\n \nThat neuer giues to any man his\n right,\n \nI here pronounce this workmanship\n is such,\n \nAs that no pen can set it forth\n too much.\n \n\u00a0And thus I hang a garland\n at the dore,\n \nNot for to shew the goodnes of\n the ware:\n \nBut such hath beene the custome\n heretofore,\n \nAnd customes very hardly broken\n are.\n \nAnd when your tast shall tell\n you this is trew,\n \nThen looke you giue your hoast\n his vtmost dew.\nTo the right honourable Sir\n Chris-\n \ntopher Hatton, Lord High Chauncelor\n \nof England. &c.\nTHose\n prudent heads, that with theire counsels wise\n \nWhylom the Pillours of th'earth did sustaine,\nAnd taught ambitious Rome to tyrannise,\nAnd in the neck of all the world to rayne,\nOft from those graue affaires were wont abstaine,\nWith the sweet Lady Muses for to play:\nSo Ennius the elder Africane\nSo Maro oft did C\u00e6sars cares allay.\nSo you great Lord, that with your counsell sway\nThe burdeine of this kingdom mightily,\nWith like delightes sometimes may eke delay,\nThe rugged brow of carefull Policy:\nAnd to these ydle rymes lend litle space,\nWhich for their titles sake may find more grace.\nMAgnificke\n Lord, whose vertues excellent\n \nDoe merit a most famous Poets witt,\nTo be thy liuing praises instrument,\nYet doe not sdeigne, to let thy name be writt\nIn this base Poeme, for thee far vnfitt.\nNought is thy worth disparaged thereby,\nBut when my Muse, whose fethers nothing flitt\nDoe yet but flagg, and lowly learne to fly\nWith bolder wing shall dare alofte to sty\nTo the last praises of this Faery Queene,\nThen shall it make more famous memory\nOf thine Heroicke parts, such as they beene:\nTill then vouchsafe thy noble countenaunce,\nTo these first labours needed furtheraunce.\nREceiue\n most Noble Lord in gentle gree,\n \nThe vnripe fruit of an vnready wit:\nWhich by thy countenaunce doth craue to bee\nDefended from foule Enuies poisnous bit.\nWhich so to doe may thee right well befit,\nSith th'antique glory of thine auncestry\nVnder a shady vele is therein writ,\nAnd eke thine owne long liuing memory,\nSucceeding them in true nobility:\nAnd also for the loue, which thou doest beare\nTo th'Heliconian ymps, and they to thee,\nThey vnto thee, and thou to them most deare:\nDeare as thou art unto thy selfe, so loue\nThat loues & honours thee, as doth behoue.\nThe\n sacred Muses haue made alwaies clame\n \nTo be the Nourses of nobility,\nAnd Registres of euerlasting fame\nTo all that armes professe and cheualry.\nThen by like right the noble Progeny,\nWhich them succeed in fame and worth, are tyde\nT'embrace the seruice of sweete Poetry,\nBy whose endeuours they are glorifide,\nAnd eke from all, of whom it is enuide,\nTo patronize the authour of their praise,\nWhich giues them life, that els would soone haue dide,\nAnd crownes their ashes with immortall baies.\nTo thee therefore right noble Lord I send\nThis present of my paines, it to defend.\nREceiue\n most noble Lord a simple taste\n \nOf the wilde fruit, which saluage soyl hath bred,\nWhich being through long wars left almost waste,\nWith brutish barbarisme is ouerspredd:\nAnd in so faire a land, as may be redd,\nNot one Parnassus, nor one Helicone\nLeft for sweete Muses to be harboured,\nBut where thy selfe hast thy braue mansione:\nThere in deede dwel faire Graces many one.\nAnd gentle Nymphes, delights of learned wits;\nAnd in thy person without Paragone\nAll goodly bountie and true honour sits,\nSuch therefore, as that wasted soyl doth yield,\nReceiue dear Lord in worth, the fruit of barren field.\nANd\n ye, braue Lord, whose goodly personage,\n \nAnd noble deeds each other garnishing,\nMake you ensample to the present age,\nOf th'old Heroes, whose famous ofspring\nThe antique Poets wont so much to sing,\nIn this same Pageaunt haue a worthy place,\nSith those huge castles of Castilian king,\nThat vainly threatned kingdomes to displace,\nLike flying doues ye did before you chace;\nAnd that proud people woxen insolent\nThrough many victories, didst first deface:\nThy praises euerlasting monument\nIs in this verse engr[a]uen semblab[l]y,\nThat it may liue to all posterity.\nMOst\n Noble Lord the pillor of my life,\n \nAnd Patrone of my Muses pupillage,\nThrough whose large bountie poured on me rife,\nIn the first season of my feeble age,\nI now doe liue, bound yours by vassalage:\nSith nothing euer may redeeme, nor reaue\nOut of your endlesse debt so sure a gage,\nVouchsafe in worth this small guift to receaue,\nWhich in your noble hands for pledge I leaue,\nOf all the rest, that I am tyde t'account:\nRude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weane\nIn sauadge soyle, far from Parnasso mount,\nAnd roughly wrought in an vnlearned Loome:\nThe which vouchsafe dear Lord your fauorable doome.\nTO\n thee that art the sommers Nightingale,\n \nThy soueraine Goddesses most deare delight,\nWhy doe I send this rusticke Madrigale,\nThat may thy tunefull eare vnseason quite?\nThou onely fit this Argument to write,\nIn whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bowre,\nAnd dainty loue learnd sweetly to endite.\nMy rimes I know vnsauory and sowre,\nTo taste the streames, that like a golden showre\nFlow from thy fruitfull head, of thy loues praise,\nFitter perhaps to thonder Martiall stowre,\nWhen so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise:\nYet till that thou Poeme wilt make knowne,\nLet thy faire Cinthias praises bee thus rudely showne.\nTo the most vertuous, and beautifull\n \nLady, the Lady Carew.\nNE\n may I, without blot of endlesse blame,\n \nYou fairest Lady leaue out of this place,\nBut with remembraunce of your gracious name,\nWherewith that courtly garlond most ye grace,\nAnd deck the world, adorne these verses base:\nNot that these few lines can in them comprise\nThose glorious ornaments of heuenly grace,\nWherewith ye triumph ouer feeble eyes,\nAnd in subdued harts do tyranyse:\nFor thereunto doth need a golden quill,\nAnd siluer leaues, them rightly to deuise,\nBut to make humble present of good will:\nWhich whenas timely meanes it purchase may,\nIn ampler wise it self will forth display.\nTo all the gratious and beautifull\n Ladies\n \nin the Court.\nTHe\n Chian Peincter, when he was requirde\n \nTo pourtraict Venus in her perfect hew,\nTo make his worke more absolute, desird\nOf all the fairest Maides to haue the vew.\nMuch more me needs to draw the semblant trew,\nOf beauties Queene, the worlds sole wonderment,\nTo sharpe my sence with sundry beauties vew,\nAnd steale from each some part of ornament.\nIf all the world to seeke I ouerwent,\nA fairer crew yet no where could I see,\nThen that braue court doth to mine eie present,\nThat the worlds pride seemes gathered there to bee.\nOf each part I stole by cunning thefte:\nForgiue it me faire Dames, sith lesse ye haue not lefte.\nTo the right honourable the Lo.\n \nBurleigh, Lo. high Threasurer\n of England.\nTO\n you right noble Lord, whose carefull brest\n \nTo menage of most graue affaires is bent,\nAnd on whose mightie shoulders most doth rest\nThe burdein of this kingdomes gouernement,\nAs the wide compasse of the firmament,\nOn Atlas mighty shoulders is vpstayed;\nVnfitly I these ydle rimes present,\nThe labour of lost time, and wit vnstayd:\nYet if their deeper sence be inly wayd,\nAnd the dim vele, with which from comune vew\nTheir fairer parts are hid, aside be layd.\nPerhaps not vaine the might appeare to you.\nSuch as they be, vouchsafe them to receaue,\nAnd wipe their faults out of your censure graue.\nTo the right honourable the Lord\n of\n \nHunsdon, high Chamberlaine to\n her Maiesty.\nREnowmed\n Lord, that for your worthinesse\n \nAnd noble deeds haue your deserued place,\nHigh in the fauour of that Empresse,\nThe worlds sole glory and her sexes grace,\nHere eke of right haue you a worthie place,\nBoth for your nearnes to that Faerie Queene,\nAnd for your owne high merit in like cace,\nOf which, apparaunt proofe was to be sene,\nWhen that tumultuous rage and fearfull deene\nOf Northerne rebels ye did pacify,\nAnd their disloiall powre defaced clene,\nThe record of enduring memory.\nLiue Lord for euer in this lasting verse,\nThat all posteritie thy honor may reherse.\nTo the right honourable the Lord\n of\n \nBuckhurst, one of her Maiesties\n priuie Counsell.\nIN\n vain I thinke right honourable Lord,\n \nBy this rude rime to memorize thy name;\nWhose learned Muse hath writ her owne record,\nIn golden verse, worthy immortal fame:\nThou much more fit (were leasure to the same)\nThy gracious Souerain praises to compile.\nAnd her imperiall Maiestie to frame,\nIn loftie numbers and heroicke stile,\nBut sith thou maist not so, giue leaue a while\nTo baser wit his power therein to spend,\nWhose grosse defaults thy daintie pen may file,\nAnd vnaduised ouersights amend.\nBut euermore vouchsafe it to maintaine\nAgainst vile Zoilus backbightings vaine.\nTHat\n Mantuane Poetes incompared spirit,\n \nWhose girland now is set in highest place,\nHad not Mec\u00e6nas for his worthy merit,\nIt first aduaunst to great Augustus grace,\nMight long perhaps haue lien in silence bace,\nNe bene so much admir'd of later age.\nThis lowly Muse, that learns like steps to trace,\nFlies for like aide vnto your Patronage;\nThat as the great Mecenas of this age,\nAs wel to al that ciuil artes professe\nAs those that are inspired with Martial rage,\nAnd craues protection of her feeblenesse:\nWhich if ye yield, perhaps ye may her rayse\nIn bigger times to sound your liuing prayse.\nTo the right noble LORD and\n most\n \nvaliaunt Captaine, Sir Iohn\n Norris knight, Lord\n \nPresident of Mounster.\nWHo\n euer gaue more honourable prize\n \nTo the sweet Muse, then did the Martiall crew\nThat their braue deeds she might immortalize\nIn her shril tromp, and sound their praises dew?\nWho then ought more to fauour her, then you\nMoste noble Lord, the honor of this age,\nAnd Precedent of all that armes ensue?\nWhose warlike prowess and manly courage\nTempred with reason and aduizement sage\nHath fild sad Belgiacke with victorious spoile,\nIn Fraunce and Ireland left a famous gage,\nAnd lately shakt the Luistanian soile.\nSith then each where thou hast dispredd thy fame,\nLoue him, that hath eternized your name.\nTo the right honourable and most\n \nvertuous Lady, the Countesse\n of Pe[m]broke.\nREmembraunce\n of that most Heroicke Spirit,\n \nThe heuens pride, the glory of our daies,\nWhich now triumpheth through immortall merit\nOf his braue vertues crownd with lasting baies,\nOf heuenlie blis and euerlasting praises;\nWho first my Muse did lift out of the flore,\nTo sing his sweet delights in lowlie laies;\nBids me most noble Lady to adore\nHis goodly image liuing euermore,\nIn the diuine resemblaunce of your face,\nWhich with your vertues ye embellish more,\nAnd natiue beauty deck with heuenlie grace.\nFor his, and for your owne especial sake,\nVouchsafe from him this tok&etilde; in good worth to take.\nTo the right honourable the Earle\n \nof Cumberland.\nREdoubted\n Lord, in whose corageous mind\n \nThe flowre of cheualry now bloosming faire,\nDoth promise fruite worthy the noble kind\nWhich of their praises haue left you the haire;\nTo you this humble present I prepare,\nFor loue of vertue and of Martiall praise;\nTo which though nobly ye inclined are,\nAs goodlie well ye shew'd in late assaies,\nYet braue ensample of long passed daies,\nIn which trew honor ye may fashioned see,\nTo like desire of honor may ye raise,\nAnd fill your mind with magnanimitee.\nReceiue it, Lord, therefore, as it was ment,\nFor honor of your name and high descent.","title":"The Faerie Queene: Letter to Raleigh and Commendatory Poems, &c.: Commendatory Poems and Sonnets to Persons of Rank","type":"page"}