Visions of Petrarch 1 BEing Being one day at my window all alone, So manie strange things happened me to see, As much it grieueth grieveth me to thinke thereon. At my right hand a Hynde appear’d to mee, So faire as mote the greatest God delite; Two eager dogs did her pursue in chace, Of which the one was blacke, the other white: With deadly force so in their cruell race They pincht the haunches of that gentle beast, That at the last, and in short time I spide, Vnder Under a Rocke where she alas opprest, Fell to the ground, and there vntimely untimely dide. Cruell death vanquishing so noble beautie, Oft makes me wayle so hard a destenie. 2 After at sea a tall ship did appeare, Made all of Heben and white Yuorie Yvorie , The sailes of golde, of silke the tackle were, Milde was the winde, calme seem’d the sea to bee, The skie each where did show full bright and faire; With rich treasures this gay ship fraighted was: But sudden storme did so turmoyle the aire, And tumbled vp up the sea, that she (alas) Strake on a rock, that vnder under water lay, And perished past all recouerie recoverie . O how great ruth and sorrowfull assay, Doth vex my spirite with perplexitie, Thus in a monent to see lost and drown’d, So great riches, as like cannot be found. The Visions of Petrarch I saw 3 The heauenly heavenly branches did I see arise Out of the fresh and lustie Lawrell tree, Amidst the yong greene wood: of Paradise Some noble plant I thought my selfe to see: Such store of birds therein yshrowded were, Chaunting in shade their sundrie melodie, That with their sweetnes I was rauish’t ravish’t nere. While on this Lawrell fixed was mine eie, The skie gan euerie everie where to ouercast overcast , And darkned was the welkin all about, When sudden flash of heauens heavens fire out brast, And rent this royall tree quite by the roote, Which makes me much and euer ever to complaine: For no such shadow shalbe had againe. 4 Within this wood, out of a rocke did rise A spring of water, mildly rumbling downe, Whereto approched not in anie wise The homely shepheard, nor the ruder clowne; But manie Muses, and the Nymphes withall, That sweetly in accord did tune their voyce To the soft sounding of the waters fall, That my glad hart thereat did much reioyce rejoyce . But while herein I tooke my chiefe delight, I saw (alas) the gaping earth deuoure devoure The spring, the place, and all cleane out of sight. Which yet aggreeues aggreeves my hart euen even to this houre, And wounds my soule with rufull memorie, To see such pleasures gon so suddenly. Visions of Petrarch, When Z3 5 I saw a Phœnix in the wood alone, With purple wings, and crest of golden hewe; Strange bird he was, whereby I thought anone, That of some heauenly heavenly wight I had the vewe; Vntill Untill he came vnto unto the broken tree, And to the spring, that late deuoured devoured was. What say I more? each thing at last we see Doth passe away: the Phœnix there alas Spying the tree destroid, the water dride, Himselfe smote with his beake, as in disdaine, And so foorth with in great despight he dide: That yet my heart burnes in exceeding paine, For ruth and pitie of so haples plight. O let mine eyes no more see such a sight. 6 At last so faire a Ladie did I spie, That thinking yet on her I burne and quake; On hearbs and flowres she walked pensiuely pensively , Milde, but yet loue love she proudly did forsake: White seem’d her robes, yet wouen woven so they were, As snow and golde together had been wrought. Aboue Above the wast a darke clowde shrouded her, A stinging Serpent by the heele her caught; Wherewith she languisht as the gathered floure, And well assur’d she mounted vp up to ioy joy . Alas, on earth so nothing doth endure, But bitter griefe and sorrowfull annoy: Which make this life wretched and miserable, Tossed with stormes of fortune variable. Visions of Petrarch. When I beheld this tickle trustles state Of vaine worlds glorie, flitting too and fro, And mortall men tossed by troublous fate In restles seas of wretchednes and woe, I wish I might this wearie life forgoe, And shortly turne vnto unto my happie rest, Where my free spirite might not anie moe Be vext with sights, that doo her peace molest. And ye faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest All heauenly heavenly grace and vertue shrined is, When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest, Loath this base world, and thinke of heauens heavens blis: And though ye be the fairest of Gods creatures, Yet thinke, that death shall spoyle your goodly fea-(tures. FINIS.