Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MENAPHON: MELICERTUS' ECOLOGUE, by ROBERT GREENE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MENAPHON: MELICERTUS' ECOLOGUE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What need compare where sweet exceeds com- / pare?
Last Line: My pain too old, although my years be young.
Subject(s): Love; Mythology; Nature; Pain; Suffering; Misery


WHAT need compare where sweet exceeds compare?
Who draws his thoughts of Love from senseless things,
Their pomp and greatest glories doth impair,
And mounts Love's heaven with over-laden wings.

Stones, herbs, and flowers, the foolish spoils of earth,
Floods, metals, colours, dalliance of the eye;
These show conceit is stain'd with too much dearth,
Such abstract fond compares make cunning die.

But he that hath the feeling taste of Love
Derives his essence from no earthly toy;
A weak conceit his power cannot approve,
For earthly thoughts are subject to annoy.

Be whist, be still, be silent, censors, now:
My fellow-swain has told a pretty tale,
Which modern poets may perhaps allow,
Yet I condemn the terms, for they are stale.

Apollo, when my mistress first was born,
Cut off his locks, and left them on her head,
And said, "I plant these wires in Nature's scorn,
Whose beauties shall appear when time is dead."

From forth the crystal heaven when she was made,
The purity thereof did taint her brow,
On which the glistering sun that sought the shade
Gan set, and there his glories doth avow.

Those eyes, fair eyes, too fair to be describ'd,
Were those that erst the chaos did reform;
To whom the heavens their beauties have ascrib'd,
That fashion life in man, in beast, in worm.

When first her fair delicious cheeks were wrought,
Aurora brought her blush, the moon her white;
Both so combin'd as passèd Nature's thought,
Compil'd those pretty orbs of sweet delight.

When Love and Nature once were proud with play,
From both their lips her lips the coral drew;
On them doth Fancy sleep, and every day
Doth swallow joy, such sweet delights to view.

Whilom while Venus' son did seek a bower
To sport with Psyche, his desirèd dear,
He chose her chin, and from that happy stowre
He never stints in glory to appear.

Desires and Joys, that long had servèd Love,
Besought a hold where pretty eyes might woo them:
Love made her neck, and for their best behove
Hath shut them there, whence no man can undo them.

Once Venus dream'd upon two pretty things,
Her thoughts they were affection's chiefest nests;
She suck'd, and sigh'd, and bath'd her in the springs,
And when she wak'd, they were my mistress' breasts.

Once Cupid sought a hold to couch his kisses,
And found the body of my best-belov'd,
Wherein he clos'd the beauty of his blisses,
And from that bower can never be remov'd.

The Graces erst, when Acidalian springs
Were waxen dry, perhaps did find her fountain
Within the vale of bliss, where Cupid's wings
Do shield the nectar fleeting from the mountain.

No more, fond man: things infinite, I see,
Brook no dimension; hell a foolish speech;
For endless things may never talkèd be;
Then let me live to honour and beseech.

Sweet Nature's pomp, if my deficient phrase
Hath stain'd thy glories by too little skill,
Yield pardon, though mine eye, that long did gaze,
Hath left no better pattern to my quill.

I will no more, no more will I detain

Your listening ears with dalliance of my tongue,
I speak my joys, but yet conceal my pain,
My pain too old, although my years be young.





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