Commendatory Verse ¶ A Vision vpon upon this conceipt of the Faery Queene. M E e thought I saw the graue grave , where Laura lay, Within that Temple, where the vestall flame Was wont to burne, and passing by that way, To see that buried dust of liuing living fame, Whose tumbe faire loue love , and fairer vertue kept, All suddeinly I saw the Faery Queene: At whose approch the soule of Petrarke wept, And from thenceforth those graces were not seene. For they this Queene attended, in whose steed Obliuion Oblivion laid him downe on Lauras herse: Hereat the hardest stones were seene to bleed, And grones of buried ghostes the heuens hevens did perse. Where Homers spright did tremble all for griefe, And curst th’accesse of that celestiall theife.

Another of the same. T H h e prayse of meaner wits this worke like profit brings, As doth the Cuckoes song delight whē when Philumena sings. If thou hast formed right true vertues face herein: Vertue her selfe can best discerne, to whom they writen bin. If thou hast beauty praysd, let her sole lookes diuine divine Iudge Judge if ought therein be amis, and mend it by her eine. If Chastitie want ought, or Temperaunce her dew, Behold her Princely mind aright, and write thy Queene anew. Meane while she shall perceiue perceive , how far her vertues sore Aboue Above the reach of all that liue live , or such as wrote of yore: And thereby will excuse and fauour favour thy good will: Whose vertue can not be exprest, but by an Angels quill. Of me no lines are lou’d lov’d , nor letters are of price, Of all which speak our English tongue, but those of thy deuice device . W. R.

597 Pp4 But To the learned Shepeheard. C O o llyn I see by thy new taken taske, some sacred fury hath enricht thy braynes, That leades thy muse in haughty verse to maske, and loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes. That lifts thy notes from Shepheardes vnto unto kinges, So like the liuely lively Larke that mounting singes. Thy louely lovely Rosolinde seemes now forlorne, and all thy gentle flockes forgotten quight, Thy chaunged hart now holdes thy pypes in scorne, those prety pypes that did thy mates delight. Those trusty mates, that loued loved thee so well, Whom thou gau’st gav’st mirth: as they gaue gave thee the bell. Yet as thou earst with thy sweete roundelayes, didst stirre to glee our laddes in homely bowers: So moughtst thou now in these refyned layes, delight the daintie eares of higher powers. And so mought they in their deepe skanning skill Alow and grace our Collyns flowing quyll. And fare befall that Faery Queene of thine, in whose faire eyes loue love linckt with vertue sittes: Enfusing by those bewties fyers deuyne devyne , such high conceites into thy humble wittes, As raised hath poore pastors oaten reede, From rustick tunes, to chaunt heroique deedes. So mought thy Redcrosse knight with happy hand victorious be in that faire Ilands right: Which thou dost vayle in Type of Faery land Elyzas blessed field, that Albion hight. That shieldes her friendes, and warres her mightie foes, Yet still with people, peace, and plentie flowes. 598 But ( iolly jolly shepeheard) though with pleasing style, thou feast the humour of the Courtly trayne: Let not conceipt thy setled sence beguile, ne daunted be through enuy envy or disdaine. Subiect Subject thy dome to her Empyring spright, From whence thy Muse, and all the world takes light. Hobynoll.

F A a yre Thamis streame, that from Ludds stately towne, Runst paying tribute to the Ocean seas, Let all thy Nymphes and Syrens of renowne Be silent, whyle this Bryttane Orpheus playes: Nere thy sweet bankes, there liues lives that sacred crowne, Whose hand strowes Palme and neuer never -dying bayes, Let all at once, with thy soft murmuring sowne Present her with this worthy Poets prayes. For he hath taught hye drifts in shepeherdes weedes, And deepe conceites now singes in Faeries deedes. R. S.

Graue G R r ave Muses march in triumph and with prayses, Our Goddesse here hath giuen given you leaue leave to land: And biddes this rare dispenser of your graces Bow downe his brow vnto unto her sacred hand. Desertes findes dew in that most princely doome, In whose sweete brest are all the Muses bredde: So did that great Augustus erst in Roome With leaues leaves of fame adorne his Poets hedde. Faire be the guerdon of your Faery Queene, Euen Even of the fairest that the world hath seene. H. B.