Edmund Spenser. 1552-1599

79. Whilst it is prime

FRESH Spring, the herald of loves mighty king,

In whose cote-armour richly are displayd

All sorts of flowers, the which on earth do spring,

In goodly colours gloriously arrayd--

Goe to my love, where she is carelesse layd,

Yet in her winters bowre not well awake;

Tell her the joyous time wil not be staid,

Unlesse she doe him by the forelock take;

Bid her therefore her selfe soone ready make,

To wayt on Love amongst his lovely crew;

Where every one, that misseth then her make,

Shall be by him amearst with penance dew.

    Make hast, therefore, sweet love, whilest it is prime;

    For none can call againe the passed time.

make] mate.

Edmund Spenser. 1552-1599

80. A Ditty

In praise of Eliza, Queen of the Shepherds

SEE where she sits upon the grassie greene,

        (O seemely sight!)

Yclad in Scarlot, like a mayden Queene,

        And ermines white:

Upon her head a Cremosin coronet

With Damaske roses and Daffadillies set:

        Bay leaves betweene,

        And primroses greene,

Embellish the sweete Violet.

Tell me, have ye seene her angelick face

        Like Phoebe fayre?

Her heavenly haveour, her princely grace,

        Can you well compare?

The Redde rose medled with the White yfere,

In either cheeke depeincten lively chere:

        Her modest eye,

        Her Majestie,

Where have you seene the like but there?

I see Calliope speede her to the place,

        Where my Goddesse shines;

And after her the other Muses trace

        With their Violines.

Bene they not Bay braunches which they do beare,

All for Elisa in her hand to weare?

        So sweetely they play,

        And sing all the way,

That it a heaven is to heare.

Lo, how finely the Graces can it foote

    &nb