STANZAS BY ROBERT DEVEREUX,

SECOND EARL OF ESSEX.

MUSES no more, but Mazes be your names,

Where Discord's sound shall mar your concords sweet!

Unkindly now your careful Fancy frames,

When Fortune treads your favour under feet:

But foul befall that cursed cuckoo's throat,

That so hath cross'd sweet Philomela's note.

And all unhappy hatched was that bird,

That parrot-like can never cease to prate;
But most untimely spoken was that word,
That brought the world in such a woeful state;
That Love and Liking quite are overthrown,
And in their place are Hate and Sorrows grown.

Is this the honour of an haughty thought,

For Lover's hap to have all spite or love?
Hath wretched skill thus blinded Reason taught
In this conceit such discontent to move,
That Beauty so is of herself bereft,

That no good hope of ought good hap is left?

O let no Phoenix look upon a crow,

Nor dainty hills bow down to dirty vales!

Let never heaven an hellish humour know,
Nor firm Affect give ear to hellish tales!
For this in fine will fall to be the troth,

That puddle water makes unwholesome broth.

Woe to the world! The sun is in a cloud,

And darksome mists doth overrun the day;
In hope Conceit is not content allow'd;
Favour must die, and Fancy wear away.

O heavens, what hell! The bands of Love are broken;
Nor must a thought of such a thing be spoken!

Mars must become a coward in his mind,

Whilst Vulcan stands to prate of Venus' toys;
Beauty must seem to go against her kind,
In crossing Nature in her sweetest joys.
But, oh! no more! It is too much to think,
So pure a mouth should puddle water drink!

But since the world is as thy woeful pass,

Let Love's submission Honour's wrath appease!
Let not an horse be matched with an ass;
Nor hateful tongue a happy heart disease!

So shall the world commend a sweet conceit,
And humble Faith on heavenly Honour wait!"

Harl. MSS. 6910, f. 151.