• Care-charmer slee{P}e, s{O}nn{E} of {T}he {S}able night

    From Arthur Neuendorffer@21:1/5 to All on Mon Jan 31 19:17:57 2022
    --------------------------------------------------------
    . . . TO DELIA Sonnet I.
    .
    . . . . .Looke on the deere ex{P}ences of my youth,
    . And see h{O}w iust I reckon with thyne {E}yes:
    . Examine well thy beau{T}ie with my trueth,
    . And cros{S}e my cares ere greater summes arise.
    . . Reade it sweet maide, though it be doone but slightly;
    . . Who can shewe all his loue, doth loue but lightly.
    .
    {POETS} 22
    .............................................
    . . . . . Sonnet XL.
    .
    . . . . My Cynthia hath the waters of mine eyes,
    . The ready handmaides on her grace attending:
    . That neuer fall to ebbe, nor euer dryes,
    . For to their flowe she neuer graunts an ending.
    . . . . .Th'Ocean neuer did attende more duely,
    . V{P}pon his S{O}ueraign{E}s course, {T}he night{S} pale Queene:
    . Nor paide the impost of his waues more truely,
    . Then mine to her in truth haue euer beene.
    .
    {POETS} 8
    .............................................................
    . . . . . Sonnet XLIIII.
    .
    . . . . Still let disarmed peace decke (H)er (A)nd (T)he(E);
    . . . . An(D) Muse-foe Mars, abroade farre fostred bee. ............................................................
    . . . . . Sonnet XLV.
    .
    . . . . Care-charmer slee{P}e, s{O}nn{E} of {T}he {S}able night,
    . Brother to death, in silent darknes borne:
    . Relieue my languish, and restore the light,
    . With darke forgetting of my cares returne
    . . . . .And let the day be time enough to morne,
    . The shipwrack of my ill-aduentred youth:
    . Let waking eyes suffice to wayle theyr scorne,
    . Without the torment of the nights vntruth.
    . . . . .Cease dreames, th'ymagery of our day desires,
    . To modell foorth the passions of the morrow:
    . Neuer let rysing Sunne approue you lyers,
    . To adde more griefe to aggrauat my sorrow.
    . . . . . Still let me sleepe, imbracing clowdes in vaine;
    . . . . . And neuer Wake, to feele the dayes disdayne.
    .
    {POETS} 3
    .....................................................
    . . . . . Sonnet XII.
    .
    . . . . My spotles loue hoouers with white wing{S}:
    . Abou{T} the t{E}mple {O}f the {P}roudest frame:
    .
    {POETS} -5
    ------------------------------------------------------
    . SHAKE-SPEARES {S}ONNE{T}S.
    . Nev{E}r bef{O}re Im{P}rinted.
    ..............................
    . . <= 5 =>
    .
    . S H .A. K E-
    . S P .E. A R
    . E S {S} O N
    . N E {T} S N
    . e v {E} r b
    . e f {O} r e
    . I m {P} r i
    . n t .e. d.
    .
    {POETS} -5 : Prob. ~ 1 in 960
    -----------------------------------------
    . [Hamlet (Quarto 2) 5.1]
    .
    Clown: What is he that builds {S}tronger
    . {T}hen eyth{E}r [THE MAS{O}N],
    . the Shy{P}wright, or the Carpenter.
    ........................................
    . . . . . . <= 8 =>
    .
    . . . . . . W. h .a. t
    . .i s h e .t. h .a. t
    . .b u i l (d) s {S} t
    . .r o n g (e) r {T} h
    . .e n e y (t) h {E} r
    . [T H E M (A) S {O} N]
    . .t h e S (h) y {P} w
    . .r i g h .t, o .r. t
    . .h e C a .r .p .e. n
    . .t e r.
    .
    {POETS} -8: Prob. in question: ~ 1 in 660
    .
    Answer: (hated) [M(A)S{O}N] {POETS} ? -------------------------------------------------------------------
    . . . Francis Meres (1565–1647) Palladis Tamia (1598)
    .
    As noble Mæcenas, that sprang from the Hetruscan Kinges, not onely graced {POETS} by
    his bounty but also by beeing a Poet himself; and as Iames the, nowe King of Scotland,
    is not only a fauorer of {POETS} but a Poet, as my friend Master Richard Barnefielde
    hath in this disticke passing well recorded, The King of Scots now liuing is a Poet,
    As his Lepanto and his Furies show it: so Elizabeth, our dread Souereign and gracious
    Queene, is not only a liberal Patrone vnto {POETS}, but an excellent Poet herselfe,
    whose learned, delicate, and noble Muse surmounteth, be it in Ode, Elegy, Epigram,
    or in any other kind of poem, Heroicke or Lyricke. Octauia, sister unto Augustus the
    Emperour, was exceeding bountifull vnto Virgil, who gaue him for making 26 verses,
    1,137 pound{S}, to wit, tenne sestertiæ for euerie verse (which amoun{T}ed to aboue
    43 pounds for euery verse): so learned Mary, th{E} honourable Countesse of Pembrook,
    the noble sister {O}f immortall Sir Philip Sidney, is very liberall vnto {POETS};
    ......................................................................
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . <= 44 =>
    .
    . Virgilwhogauehimformakingversespound {S},t o w i t,t e
    . nnesestertiæforeuerieversewhichamoun {T} e d t o a b o
    . uepoundsforeueryversesolearnedMaryth {E} h o n o u r a
    . bleCountesseofPembrookthenoblesister {O} f i m m o r t
    . allSirPhilipSidneyisveryliberallvnto {P O E T S};
    .
    {POETS} -44 ------------------------------------------------------------------------ http://www.luminarium.org/renascence-editions/greene1.html

    GREENS, GROATS-WORTH of Wit, bought with a million of Repentance. (1592) ..........................................................................
    Yes, trust them not: for there is an vpstart Crow, beautified with our feathers,
    that with *his Tygers hart wrapt in a Players hyde*, supposes he is as well able to
    bombast out a blanke verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Iohannes fac
    totum, is in his owne conceit the onely *SHAKE-SCENE* in a countrey. O that I might
    intreate your rare wits to be imploied in more profitable courses: & let those Apes imitate your past excellence, and neuer more acquaint them with your admired
    inuentions. I know the best husband of you all will neuer proue an Usurer, and the kindest of them all will neuer seeke you a kind nurse: yet whilest you may, {S}eeke you better Mais{T}ers; for it is pittie m{E}n of such rare wits, sh{O}uld be subiect to the {P}leasure of such rude {G}roomes. ..................................................................
    . <= 18 =>
    .
    . {S} e e k e y o u b e t t e r M a i s
    . {T} e r s;f o r i t i s p i t t i e m
    . {E} n o f s u c h r a r e w i t s,s h
    . {O} u l d b e s u b i e c t t o t h e
    . {P} l e a s u r e o f s u c h r u d e
    . {G} r o o m e s.
    .
    {G.POETS} -18 : Prob. in *SHAKE-SCENE* paragraph ~ 1 in 1325 --------------------------------------------------------------------
    . The First Booke. Of {POETS} and Poesie: Last Few Sentences:
    .
    That for Tragedie, the Lord of Buckhurst & Maister Edward Ferrys, for such doings as I haue sene of theirs, do deserue the hyest price: Th’Earle of Oxford and Maister Edwardes of her Maiesties Chappell for Comedy and Enterlude. For Eglogue and pastorall Poesie, Sir Philip Sydney and Maister Challenner,
    and that other Gentleman who wrate the late shepheardes Callender. For dittie and amorous Ode I finde Sir Walter Rawleyghs vayne most loftie, insolent,
    and passionate. Maister Edward Dyar, for Elegie most sweete, solempne, and
    of high conceit. Gascon for a good meeter and for a plentifull vayne.
    Phaer and Golding, for a learned and well corrected verse, specially in translation cleare and very faithfully answering their authours intent.

    Others haue also written with much facillitie, but more commendably perchance if they had not written [S]o much nor so popularly. But last in recitall
    and first in degree is [T]he Queene our {S}oueraigne Lady, whose learned, delicate, noble Muse [E]asily surmounte{T}h all the rest that haue written before her time [O]r since, for sence, swe{E}tnesse, and subtillitie, be it in Ode, Elegie, E[P]igram, or any other kinde {O}f poeme Heroick or Lyricke wherein it shall please her Maiestie to em{P}loy her penne, euen by as much oddes as her owne excellent estate and de{G}ree exceedeth all the rest of
    her most humble vassalls.
    .
    {G.POETS} -58 : Prob. in Last Sentence ~ 1 in 3,400
    [POETS] -55 : Prob. 2[POETS] in Last 2 Sentences ~ 1 in 4,250 ----------------------------------------------------------------
    On Mr. Abraham Cowley
    his Death and Burial amongst the Ancient {POETS}.
    By the Honourable Sir John Denham.
    ..........................................
    Old Chaucer, like the morning Star,
    To us discovers day from far,
    His light those Mists and Clouds dissolv'd,
    Which our dark Nation long involv'd;
    But he descending to the shades,
    Darkness again the Age invade{S}.
    Nex{T} (lik{E} Aur{O}ra) S{P}encer rose,
    Whose purple blush the day foreshews;
    The other three, with his own fires,
    Phœbus, the {POETS} God, inspires;
    By Shakespear, Johnson, Fletcher's lines,
    Our Stages lustre Rome's outshines:
    These {POETS} neer our Princes sleep,
    And in one Grave their Mansion keep;
    They liv'd to (S)ee so many days,
    Till time had blasted all their Bays:
    But cursed be the fatal ho(U)r
    That pluckt the fairest, sweetest flower
    That in the (MUSES) Garden grew,
    And a(M)ongst wither'd Lawrels threw.
    .......................................
    {POETS} -4 : Prob. at start ~ 1 in 3,500
    (MUSES) -64
    .......................................
    Time, which made them their Fame outlive,
    To Cowley scarce did ripeness give.
    Old Mother Wit, and Nature gave
    Shakespear and Fletcher all they have;
    In Spencer, and in Johnson, Art,
    Of slower Nature got the start;
    But both in him so equal are,
    None knows which bears the happy'st share; .......................................
    To hi[M] no Author was unknown,
    Yet what he wrote was [A]ll his own;
    He melted not the ancient Gold,
    No[R] with Ben Johnson did make bold
    To plunder a[L]l the Roman stores
    O(F) (PO{E}TS), and of Orators:
    H[O]race his w{I}t, (A)nd Virgil's state,
    He did not {S}teal, bu(T) emulate,
    And when he w{O}uld like them (A)ppear,
    Their Ga{R}b, but not their Cloaths, did wear: ............................................
    . . <= 36 =>
    .
    . Tohi [M] noAuthorwasunknow nYetw hathewrot
    . ewas [A] llhisownHemeltedn otthe ancientGo
    . ldNo [R] withBenJohnsondid makeb oldToplun
    . dera [L] ltheRomanstoresOf(POETS)andofOrat
    . orsH [O] racehiswitandVirg ilsst ateHedidn
    . otst .e. albutemulate
    .
    [MARLO] 36
    {ROSIE} -30
    (FATA) 25
    ............................................
    He not from Rome alone, but Greece,
    Like Jason brought the Golden Fleece;
    To him that Language (though to none
    Of th' others) as his own was known.
    On a stiff gale (as Flaccus sings)
    The Theban Swan extends his wings,
    When through th' aetherial Clouds he flies,
    To the same pitch our Swan doth rise;
    Old Pindar's flights by him are reacht,
    When on that gale his wings are stretcht;
    His fancy and his judgment such,
    Each to the other seem'd too much,
    His severe judgment (giving Law)
    His modest fancy kept in awe:
    As rigid Husbands jealous are,
    When they believe their Wives too fair,
    His English stream so pure did flow,
    As all that saw, and tasted, know.
    But for his Latin v[E]in, so clear,
    Strong, full, and high it doth appear,
    That we[R]e immortal Virgil here,
    Him, for his judge, he would not f[E]ar;
    Of that great Portraicture, so true
    A Copy Pencil ne[V]er drew.
    My Muse her Song had ended here,
    But both their G[E]nii strait appear,
    ........................................
    [E.VERE] -45
    ........................................
    Joy and amazement her did strike,
    Two Twins she never saw so like;
    Such a resemblance of all parts,
    Life, Death, Age, Fortune, Nature, Arts,
    Then lights her Torch at theirs, to tell,
    And shew the world this Parallel,
    Fixt and contemplative their looks,
    Still turning over Natures Books:
    Their works chast, moral, and divine,
    Where profit and delight combine;
    ........................................
    They guilding {D}irt, in noble verse
    Rustick Philosoph{Y} rehearse;
    Nor did their actions fall b{E}hind
    Their words, but with like candou{R} shin'd,
    Both by two generous Princ{E}s lov'd.
    Who knew, and judg'd what the{Y} approv'd
    Yet having each the same {D}esire, ............................................................
    . . . . . . . . . . . . . <= 30 =>
    .
    . T h e y g u i l d i n g{D}i r t,i n n o b l e v e r s e R u
    . s t i c k P h i l o s o p h{Y}r e h e a r s e;N o r d i d t
    . h e i r a c t i o n s f a l l b{E}h i n d T h e i r w o r d
    . s,b u t w i t h l i k e c a n d o u{R}s h i n'd,B o t h b y
    . t w o g e n e r o u s P r i n c{E}s l o v'd.W h o k n e w,a
    . n d j u d g'd w h a t t h e{Y}a p p r o v'd Y e t h a v i n
    . g e a c h t h e s a m e{D}e s i r e,

    {DYER} 32,-28
    ............................................................
    Both from the busie throng retire;
    Their Bodies to their Minds resign'd,
    Car'd not to propagate their Kind:
    Yet though both fell before their hour,
    Time on their off-spring hath no power,
    Nor fire, nor fate their Bays shall blast,
    Nor Death's dark vail their day o'recast. -----------------------------------------
    Art Neuendorffer

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