HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY. The secret thoughts, imparted with such trust; The wanton talk, the divers change of play; The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just, Wherewith we past the winter night away. And with this thought the blood forsakes the face, "O place of bliss! renewer of my woes! Echo, alas! that doth my sorrow rue, Returns thereto a hollow sound of plaint. Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew, In prison pine, with bondage and restraint; And with remembrance of the greater grief, To banish the less, I find my chief relief. SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 1552-1618. THE SILENT LOVER. PASSIONS are likened best to floods and streams: The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb; So when affections yield discourse, it seems The bottom is but shallow whence they come. They that are rich in words, in words discover That they are poor in that which makes a lover. Wrong not, sweet empress of my heart! With thinking that he feels no smart, Since if my plaints serve not to approve It comes not from defect of love, For, knowing that I sue to serve I rather choose to want relief Than venture the revealing: Where glory recommends the grief, SIR WALTER RALEIGH. Thus those desires that aim too high. When reason cannot make them die, Yet, when discretion doth bereave The plaints that they should utter, Then thy discretion may perceive That silence is a suitor. Silence in love betrays more woe Than words, though ne'er so witty; A beggar that is dumb, you know, May challenge double pity! Then wrong not, dearest to my heart! My true, though secret passion; He smarteth most that hides his smart, And sues for no compassion. The walls were round about apparellèd With costly cloths of Arras and of Toure; A work of rare device, and wondrous wit. Which her assayd with many a fervent fit, When first her tender heart was with his beauty smit; Then with what sleights and sweet allurements she Now making garlands of each flower that grew, From his beauperes, and from bright heaven's view, EDMUND SPENSER. And, whilst he slept, she over him would spread And fragrant violets, and pansies trim; And ever with sweet nectar she did sprinkle him. So did she steal his heedless heart away, From chase of greater beasts, whose brutish pride Lo! where beyond he lieth languishing, Him to a dainty flower she did transmew, Which in that cloth was wrought, as if it lively grew. 1 |