DESCEND, ye sacred daughters of King Jove:
Apollo, spread thy sparkling wings to mount,
And try some lightsome sweet Castalian springs
That warble to their silver-winding waves,
Making soft music in their gentle glide :
Clio, the sagest of these Sisters Nine,
Conduct thy learned company to court,
Eliza's court, Astræa's earthly heaven;
There take survey of England's empress,*
And in her praise tune your heroic songs:
Write, write, you chroniclers of time and famo
That keep Remembrance' golden register,
And recommend to time's eternity

Her honour's height and wonders of her age,
Wonders of her that reason's reach transcend,
Such wonders as have set the world at gaze;
Write, write, you chroniclers of time and fame,
Elizabeth by miracles preserv'd

From perils imminent and infinite:

Clio, proclaim with golden trump and pen
Her happy days, England's high holidays; [flight
O'er Europe's bounds take wing, and make thy
Through melting air, from where the rising sun
Gallops the zodiac in his fiery wain,'
Even to the brink where Thetis in her bower
Of pumey + and tralucent ‡ pebble-stones
Receives the weary bridegroom of the sea,
Beyond Grand Cair, by Nilus' slimy bank,
Over the wild and sandy Afric plains,
Along the frozen shore of Tanais,
Whose icy crust Apollo cannot thaw;
Even there and round about this earthly ball
Proclaim the day of England's happiness,
The days of peace, the days of quietness,

empress] A trisyllable here (and, as far as I recollect, written in the MS. "emperess").

pumey] i. e. pumice: Spenser (as Todd remarks in his ed. of Johnsons Dict.) repeatedly writes the word primie.

tralucent] See note §, p. 588, first col. !

And let her gladsome birth-day be the first,
Her day of birth, beginning of our bliss;
Set down the day in characters of gold,
And mark it with a stone as white as milk,
That cheerful sunny day. Wear eglantine,
And wreaths of roses red and white put on
In honour of that day, you lovely nymphs,
And pæans sing and sweet melodious songs;
Along the chalky cliffs of Albion

Lead England's lovely shepherds in a dance
O'er hill and dale, and downs, and daisy-plots,
And be that day England's high holiday;
And holidays and high days be they all,
High holidays, days, minutes, months, and hours,
That multiply the number of her years;
Years that for us beget this golden age,
Wherein we live in safety under her,
Wherein she reigus in honour over us :
So may she long and ever may she so,
Untouch'd of traitorous hand or treacherous foe!
Her birth-day being celebrated thus,
Clio, record how she hath been preserv'd,
Even in the gates of death and from her youth,
To govern England in the ways of truth;
Record heaven's goodness to this gracious queen,
Whose virtue's peer what age hath ever seen?
To pass the story of her younger days,
And stormy tempest happily o'erblown,
Wherein by mercy and by miracle
She was rescú'd for England's happiness,
And comfort of the long-afflicted flock
That stray'd like scatter'd sheep scar'd from the
fold;

To slip remembrance of those careful days,
Days full of danger, happy days withal,
Days of her preservation and defence;
Behold the happiest day, the holiday
That young and old and all don* celebrate,

* don] i. e. do.

The day of joy, the day of jollity!

The best of all the days that we have seen
Was wherein she was crownèd England's Queen,
Elizabeth, anointed of the Highest

To sit upon her kingly father's seat,
And wear in honour England's diadem,
To sway that massy sceptre and that sword
That aw'd the world in his triumphant hand,
And now in her's commands the enemy,
And with dishonour drives the daring foe
Back to his den, tir'd with successless arms,
Wearied with wars by land and wreck by sea.
Muses and Graces, gods and goddesses,
Adorn, adore, and celebrate this day.
The meanest with the mightiest may in this
Express his love; for loyalty alike
Blazons affection's force in lord and lown.

In honour of this happy day, behold
How high and low, the young and old in years,
England, hath put a face of gladness on,
And court and country carol in her praise,
And in her honour tune a thousand lays !
With just return of this triumphant day,
And prosperous revolution of the same,
Auspiciously beginning many years
And golden days and infinite to come,
Passing in number and in happiness
The best that ever earthly prince enjoy'd
By sufferance of the highest King of kings;
Behold, in honour of this holiday,
What pæans loud triumphant London sings,
What holy tunes and sacrifice of thanks
England's metropolis as incense sends!
And in the sound of cymbals, trumps, and shalms,
In honour of his noble mistress' name,
To whom his life he owes and offers up,
Lo, London's shepherd, guardian of his flock,
Praiseth the Mighty One of Israel,

And with the strings of his unfeigned heart
Tunes his true joy for all those days of peace,
Those quiet days that Englishmen enjoy
Under our queen, fair queen of Brute's New
Troy !

With whom in sympathy and sweet accord
All loyal subjects join, and hearts and hands
Lift up to Heaven's high throne, and sacrifice
Of praises and of hearty prayers send;
Thanksgiving for our blessings and the grace,
The gracious blessings on that day pour'd down
On England's head; that day whereon this queen
Inaugur'd was and holily install'd,
Anointed of the highest King of kings,

*whom] MS. "who he."

In her hereditary royal right
Successively to sit enthronized.

And in this general plaudit and applause,
And celebration of this joyful day,
Wherein pale Envy, vanquish'd long ago,
Gave way to Virtue's great deserts in her,
And wounded with remembrance of her name,
Made hence amain to murmur that abroad
He durst not openly disgorge at home,
In his own nest fil'd with so foul a bird,
And breathe his discontentments over sea
Among those erring fugitives that pine
At England's prosperous peace, and nothing more
Do thirst than alteration of the state,
And nothing less than our good queen affect;
A number of unnatural Englishmen,
That curse the day so happy held of us,
Whose base revolt from their allegiance due
To prince and country makes them infamous,
Condemn'd among the Turks and Infidels,
False architects of those foul practices
That end in their dishonour and their shame,
Those bloody stratagems, those traitorous trains,
And cruel siege they lay unto her life,
Precious in sight of heaven and dear to us,
Her loving and her loyal subjects all,
Whom Jacob's God hath many ways preserv'd,
Yea, even betwixt the bridge and water's brink,
Saving her as by miracle in the fall

From Pharoah's rod and from the sword of Saul:-
Lo, in this triumph that true subjects make,
Envied of none but enemies of the truth,
Her enemies, that serves the living Lord
And puts in him her confidence and trust,
Thou, sacred Muse of History, describe,
That all may see how well she is belov'd,
What troop of loyal English knights in arms,
Right richly mounted and appointed all,
In shining arms accoutred for the war,
Small number of a number numberless,
Held justs in honour of her holiday,
Ready to do their duties and devoir
Against the mightiest enemy she hath,
Under what clime soe'er his colours ware,
And with keen sword and battle-axe in hand
To wound his crest, whatever foe he be
That any way in her dishonour braves.

Among this stirring company of knights,
That at the tilt in fair habiliments
Gan show themselves, renowned Cumberland,
Knight of the Crown, in gilded armour dight,
Mounted at Queen Elizabeth's approach,
Inflam'd with honour's fire, and left his hold
Kept by a dragon, laden with fair spoils :

And there his duty done, and large device
Made by his page known to her majesty,
Whose gracious eye reflecting on this earl
Was like Prometheus' life-infusing fire,
Behold, he stands impatient of delay,
Awaiting there his friendly foe's approach!
Daring he stands, true knight and challenger,
And hardly brooks the time of their address
That shortly came in duty all devote,
To solace with their martial exercise
Their princely mistress, to whose worthiness
That day's device and days of all their lives
Right humbly were and purely dedicate.

The first that led, in cheerful colours clad,
In innocent white and fair carnation,
Was he whose wisdom in his younger years
And love to arms make him so far renown'd,
The noble Earl of Essex and of Ewe.

His mute approach and action of his mutes
Said that he was solicited diversely;
One way to follow war and war's designs,-
And well he may, for skill he can full well
Of war's adventures, 'larms, and stratagems;-
Another way t' apply him to the care
Of commonweal-affairs, and show the way
To help to underbear with grave advice
The weighty beam whereon the state depends:
Well may he this way or the other take,
And both shall his nobility become;
The gravity and greatness of the one
Shall beautify the other's worthiness;
His senate-robes shall beautify his arms,
His chivalry nobilitate his name.

Then Sussex, seated on his champing steed,
Dreadful to see, and in sad tawny dight,
Came in, as if some angry man of war
Had charg'd his lance and put himself in arms,
Under an eben-tree or blasted yew:
Such show'd his plume, or like in my conceit
To ravens' feathers by the moon's reflex,
Shining where night by day doth take reposc.
Mars in his wrath sitting upon his drum,
Devising tragedies, strikes no greater fear
Into the eyes and hearts of earthly men,
Than did methought this champion in his way ;
Nor in his doings ever man-at-arms

So young of years more forward than this earl:
So prone, so puissant, and successful still
In all his courses was this warlike knight.
Then Bedford and Southampton made up
five,

Five valiant English earls. Southampton ran
As Bevis of Southampton, that good knight,
Had justed in the honour of the day;

And certes Bevis was a mighty man,
Valiant in arms, gentle and debonair;
And such was young Wriothesley, that came
As if in duty to his sovereign

And honour's race for all that he had done,
He would be of the noblest over-run.
Like to himself and to his ancestors,
Ran Bedford, to express his readiness,
His love to arms, his loyalty to her
Whose burning eyeballs did retain the heat
That kindled honour's fire at their hearts;
Bravely ran Bedford, and his staves he brake
Right happily for his high mistress' sake.

Compton of Compton came in shining arms, Well mounted and appointed for the field, A gallant lord; richly array'd was he, He and his train. Clio, recount his fame; Record with me his love to learning's lore, And valiant doings on this holiday: Short will I be in process of his praise; Courageously he ran, and with the best From forth the field bare honour on his crest. Carew was well-acquainted with the place, And to the tilt proudly he made approach; His steed well-taught, himself fitted in all, Fell to his noble exercise of arms, And on his courser gan himself advance, Whose neighs and plays were princely to behold: Remembrance of this day reviv'd this knight; His turn he takes, and at the trumpet's sound Breaks at the head with many a lofty bound. In bases and caparisons of cost Came three redoubted knights and men-at-arms, Old Knowles his offspring, gallant cavaliers; And such they show'd as were King Arthur's

knights

He whilom us'd to feast at Camelot,

Or three of great King Priam's valiant sons
Had left Elysium and the fields of Mars
To celebrate Eliza's holiday:

They ran as if three Hectors had made way
To meet Achilles, Ajax, Diomede.
Palm had the eldest branching of his crest:
'Tis hard to say which brother did the best.

Like Venus' son in Mars his armour clad,
Beset with glorious globes and golden flames,
Came Dudley in; nor shall it me become
To dive into the depth of his device;
Rich in his thoughts and valiant in his deeds,

* certes] i. e. certainly.

He would, &c.] Qy.

"He would not of the noblest be o'er-run"? bases] Sce note †, p. 570, first col.