Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: DEDICATION TO R. WENMAN, by WILLIAM BASSE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: DEDICATION TO R. WENMAN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Since, (noble lord), your groues haue been the bowers
Last Line: For so long night purchase perpetuall day.
Subject(s): Wenman, Sir Richard (1573-1640)


SINCE, (Noble Lord), your groues haue been the bowers
Where Shepheards songs not onely sung haue been,
But Shepheards selues been sheltred from the powers
Of Summers heate and blastes of Winters keene,
The gentle fruites of all these freindly howers
To climbe your hand are thus ambitious seene.
For Swaine is none so simple on the greene
But knowes these honors all so much your due,
That other claime there can be none between
Your title unto them and theirs to you.
For this, that of all Ilandes is the Queene,
Neuer Mæcenas bred more nobly true:
And O what vertue more, then life to giue
To verse, whereby all other vertues liue?

The famous Shepheard Collin, whom we looke
Never to match, (though follow him we may
That follow sheep, and carry scrip and hooke)
By iust aduantage of his time and way
Has plac'd the moneths in his eternall booke,
All in their owne due order and aray;
(A Kalendar to last, we cannot say
For one yeare, but as long as yeares shal bee);
Yet of the weeke has left me euery day
Vertues to sing, though in more low degree.
And could they reach, my Lord, a higher key,
Yours as the Shepheard is the songes should be.
Great merit may claime grace in Noble breast;
Favour is greatest where desart is least.

And were I not an English workeman right,
That neuer thought his worke enough well done,
These sooner had unto your noble sight
Been off'red by the all beholding Sun.
Pardon the bashfull Shepheard: Tis no slight
Aduenture through a world of eyes to run.
As in some Clymate half a yeare is spun
Away by Night before the Day appeare,
And when Aurora there hath rayes begun
There is againe no Night for halfe a yeare;
Like that is this my Muse, who, hauing won
From halfe an ages sleep a Morning cleare
Of your aspect and favour, hopes she may
For so long Night purchase perpetuall Day.





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