A-History-of-English-Literature-38

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He	lends	me	every	lovely	thing
Yet	cruel!	he,	my	heart	doth	sting.
'Whist,	wanton!	still	ye!'
"Else	I	with	roses,	every	day
Will	whip	you	hence,
And	bind	you,	when	you	want	to	play,
For	your	offence.
I'll	shut	my	eyes	to	keep	you	in,
I'll	make	you	fast	it	for	your	sin,
I'll	count	your	power	not	worth	a	pin.
Alas,	what	hereby	shall	I	win
If	he	gainsay	me?
"What	if	I	beat	the	wanton	boy
With	many	a	rod?
He	will	repay	me	with	annoy
Because	a	god.
Then	sit	thou	safely	on	my	knee,
And	let	thy	bower	my	bosom	be.
Lurk	in	mine	eyes,	I	like	of	thee.
O	Cupid!	so	thou	pity	me,
Spare	not,	but	play	thee."
[26]	Printed	in	England's	Helicon	"sleight."
1594	was	 the	most	 important	 of	 all	 the	 sonnet	 years,	 and	 here	we	 are	 chiefly
bound	to	mention	authors	who	will	come	in	for	fuller	notice	later.	The	singular
book	 known	 as	 Willoughby's	 Avisa	 which,	 as	 having	 a	 supposed	 bearing	 on
Shakespere	and	as	containing	much	of	that	personal	puzzlement	which	rejoices
critics,	 has	 had	 much	 attention	 of	 late	 years,	 is	 not	 strictly	 a	 collection	 of
sonnets;	its	poems	being	longer	and	of	differing	stanzas.	But	in	general	character
it	 falls	 in	with	 the	sonnet-collections	addressed	or	devoted	 to	a	 real	or	 fanciful
personage.	 It	 is	 rather	 satirical	 than	 panegyrical	 in	 character,	 and	 its	 poetical
worth	 is	very	 far	 from	high.	William	Percy,	a	 friend	of	Barnes	 (who	dedicated
the	Parthenophil	to	him),	son	of	the	eighth	Earl	of	Northumberland,	and	a	retired
person	 who	 seems	 to	 have	 passed	 the	 greater	 part	 of	 a	 long	 life	 in	 Oxford
"drinking	nothing	but	ale,"	produced	a	very	short	collection	entitled	Cœlia,	not
very	noteworthy,	though	it	contains	(probably	in	imitation	of	Barnes)	one	of	the
tricky	 things	 called	 echo-sonnets,	 which,	 with	 dialogue-sonnets	 and	 the	 like,
have	 sometimes	 amused	 the	 leisure	 of	 poets.	 Much	 more	 remarkable	 is	 the
singular	 anonymous	 collection	 called	 Zepheria.	 Its	 contents	 are	 called	 not
sonnets	but	 canzons,	 though	most	of	 them	are	orthodox	quatorzains	 somewhat
oddly	rhymed	and	rhythmed.	It	is	brief,	extending	only	to	forty	pieces,	and,	like
much	 of	 the	 poetry	 of	 the	 period,	 begins	 and	 ends	 with	 Italian	 mottoes	 or
dedication-phrases.	 But	what	 is	 interesting	 about	 it	 is	 the	 evidence	 it	 gives	 of
deep	familiarity	not	only	with	Italian	but	with	French	models.	This	appears	both
in	such	words	as	"jouissance,"	"thesaurise,"	"esperance,"	"souvenance,"	"vatical"
(a	thoroughly	Ronsardising	word),	with	others	too	many	to	mention,	and	in	other
characteristics.	 Mr.	 Sidney	 Lee,	 in	 his	 most	 valuable	 collection	 of	 these
sonneteers,	 endeavours	 to	 show	 that	 this	French	 influence	was	 less	uncommon
than	 has	 sometimes	 been	 thought.	 Putting	 this	 aside,	 the	 characteristic	 of
Zepheria	is	unchastened	vigour,	full	of	promise,	but	decidedly	in	need	of	further
schooling	and	discipline,	as	the	following	will	show:—
"O	then	Desire,	father	of	Jouissance,
The	Life	of	Love,	the	Death	of	dastard	Fear,
The	kindest	nurse	to	true	persèverance,
Mine	heart	inherited,	with	thy	love's	revere.	[?]
Beauty!	peculiar	parent	of	Conceit,
Prosperous	midwife	to	a	travelling	muse,
The	sweet	of	life,	Nepenthe's	eyes	receipt,
Thee	into	me	distilled,	O	sweet,	infuse!
Love	then	(the	spirit	of	a	generous	sprite,
An	infant	ever	drawing	Nature's	breast,
The	Sum	of	Life,	that	Chaos	did	unnight!)
Dismissed	mine	heart	from	me,	with	thee	to
rest.
And	now	incites	me	cry,	'Double	or	quit!
Give	back	my	heart,	or	take	his	body	to	it!'"
This	cannot	be	said	of	the	three	remarkable	collections	yet	to	be	noticed	which
appeared	 in	 this	 year,	 to	wit,	Constable's	Diana,	Daniel's	Delia,	 and	Drayton's
Idea.	These	three	head	the	group	and	contain	the	best	work,	after	Shakespere	and
Spenser	and	Sidney,	 in	 the	English	sonnet	of	 the	 time.	Constable's	sonnets	had
appeared	partly	in	1592,	and	as	they	stand	in	fullest	collection	were	published	in
or	 before	 1594.	 Afterwards	 he	 wrote,	 like	 others,	 "divine"	 sonnets	 (he	 was	 a
Roman	Catholic)	and	some	miscellaneous	poems,	including	a	very	pretty	"Song
of	Venus	and	Adonis."	He	was	a	close	friend	of	Sidney,	many	of	whose	sonnets
were	published	with	his,	and	his	work	has	much	of	the	Sidneian	colour,	but	with
fewer	flights	of	happily	expressed	fancy.	The	best	of	it	is	probably	the	following
sonnet,	which	 is	not	only	 full	of	gracefully	expressed	 images,	but	keeps	up	 its
flight	from	first	to	last—a	thing	not	universal	in	these	Elizabethan	sonnets:—
"My	Lady's	presence	makes	the	Roses	red,
Because	to	see	her	lips	they	blush	for	shame.
The	Lily's	leaves,	for	envy,	pale	became;
And	her	white	hands	in	them	this	envy	bred.
The	Marigold	the	leaves	abroad	doth	spread;
Because	the	sun's	and	her	power	is	the	same.
The	Violet	of	purple	colour	came,
Dyed	in	the	blood	she	made	my	heart	to	shed.
In	brief	all	flowers	from	her	their	virtue	take;
From	her	sweet	breath,	their	sweet	smells	do
proceed;
The	living	heat	which	her	eyebeams	doth	make
Warmeth	the	ground,	and	quickeneth	the	seed.
The	rain,	wherewith	she	watereth	the	flowers,
Falls	from	mine	eyes,	which	she	dissolves	in
showers."
Samuel	 Daniel	 had	 an	 eminently	 contemplative	 genius	 which	 might	 have
anticipated	 the	sonnet	as	 it	 is	 in	Wordsworth,	but	which	 the	fashion	of	 the	day
confined	 to	 the	 not	 wholly	 suitable	 subject	 of	 Love.	 In	 the	 splendid	 "Care-
charmer	Sleep,"	one	of	the	tournament	sonnets	above	noted,	he	contrived,	as	will
be	seen,	to	put	his	subject	under	the	influence	of	his	prevailing	faculty.
"Care-charmer	Sleep,	son	of	the	sable	Night,
Brother	to	Death,	in	silent	darkness	born,
Relieve	my	anguish,	and	restore	the	light,
With	dark	forgetting	of	my	cares,	return;
And	let	the	day	be	time	enough	to	mourn
The	shipwreck	of	my	ill-adventured	youth;