Classic Poem

The Preface

Whenas Sir Phebe with backward course
the horned Goat had caught,
And had the place from whence he turns
his lofty face out-sought
Amid the entrance of the grades
of Capricorn he stood,
And distant far from him away
was Mars with fiery mood,
He lacked th'aspect of mighty Jove
and Venus' pleasant look;
With beams he could not broil from high,
for heat his globe forsook.
Old Saturn then aloft did lie,
with rusty rivelled face,
And with a backward course he ran
from out the Twins apace,
And towards the Bull he gan to drive,
intending there to rest
His crooked crabbed cankered limbs
in lovely Venus' nest.
With frozen face about he looked
and vile deformed hue,
And down the boisterous Boreas sent
in every coast that blew:
Who spoiled the pleasant trees of leaf,
bereft the ground of green,
That life in springing sprigs or plants
might nowhere now be seen.
The lively sap forsook the bough
and deep the root it held,
And spoiling fruits, the flaky snows
on tender boughs they dwelled.
When down amongst my books I sat
and close I crouched for cold,
Fair ladies nine with stately steps
aloof I might behold,
In mantles girt of comely grace
and books in hand they bare,
With laurel wreath their heads were crowned,
a sight to me but rare.
I saw them come and up I rose,
as duty moved, to meet
These learned nymphs, and down I fall
before their comely feet.
With rosy lips and shining face
and Melpomen her name,
This Lady first began to speak
and thus her words to frame:
" Stand up, young man," quoth she, " dispatch,
and take thy pen in hand,
" Write thou the Civil wars and broil
in ancient Latins' land.
" Reduce to English sense," she said,
" the lofty Lucan's verse,
" The cruel chance and doleful end
of Caesar's state rehearse."
" Madam," quoth Urany, " with that,
in this you do me wrong,
" To move my man to serve your turn,
that hath professed of long
" And vowed his years with me to serve
in secret motions high,
" To beat his brain in searching forth
the rollings of the sky.
" Nay, rather take in hand," quod she,
(and on me full she looks)
" With English rhyme to bring to light
Aratus worthy books.
" Describe the whirling spheres above
and movings every one,
" How forced about from East to West,
from West to East they gone.
" Aratus" verse will shew thee plain
how circles all they run,
" How glides the course thorough crooked line
of Phebe the shining Sun;
" Whereas the fixed Poles do stay,
and where the Snake doth creep,
" In heavens high, amid the north
where Bears their course do keep.
" By this," quod she, " thou shalt receive
immortal fame at last,
" Much more than if thou should'st declare
those bloody banquets past."
These words declared with pleasant voice,
this Lady held her peace,
And forth before them all I saw
the loveliest Lady press:
Of stature tall, and Venus face
she seemed methought to have,
And Calliope she called was
with verse that writes so grave.
" Sisters," quod she, " and Ladies all
of Jove his mighty line,
" To whom no art doth lie unhid
that here we may define,
" Chief patrons of the Poets poor,
and aiders of their verse,
" Without whose help their simple heads
would nothing well rehearse,
" I am become a suitor here
to you my Ladies all,
" For him that here before you stands
as unto learning thrall.
" A Poet late I had whose pen
did tread the crabbed ways
" Of virtuous life, declaring how
that men should spend their days.
" In Romish land he lived long,
and Palingen his name
" It was: whereby he got himself
an everlasting fame
" Of them that learned be. But of
the mean and ruder sort
" He lives unknown, and lacks thereby
his just and right report.
" Wherefore my suit is to you all,
grant me this wight a while
" That standeth here, that he may turn
my Poet's stately style
" To vulgar speech in native tongue,
that all may understand."
To this they all agreed, and said,
" Take thou that work in hand."
Amazed then I answered thus:
" Good Ladies all," quoth I,
" Whose clients' fame for ever flies
and name can never die,
" Return your sentence late pronounced,
call back your words again,
" And let not me take that in hand
that I cannot attain.
" In England here a hundred heads
more able now there be
" This same to do: then choose the best
and let the worst go free.
" Best you do so than that my verse
receive immortal shame,
" When I shall pay the price of pains
with hazard of my name."
With this they all began to frown
and wholly with one voice,
" Take thou this same in hand," they cry,
" thou hast none other choice."
And fast away from me they fling,
as half in angry mood.
They left me thus in woeful case,
whereas a while I stood,
And mused what I best might do;
at last my pen I took,
Commanded thus to english here
this famous Poet's book.
Now since that I have thus begun,
you, learned, I require
With your dispraise or great disdain
quench not this kindled fire,
But give me rather cause to end
this work so late begun:
So shall I think are well bestowed
my pains when all is done.