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MICHAEL DRAYTON
English poet
(1563 - 1631)

It is your virtue, being men, to try;
  And it is ours, by virtue to deny.
      - [Courtship]

O blessed bounty, giving ail content!
  The only fautress of all noble arts
    That lend'st success to every good intent.
      A grace that rests in the most godlike hearts,
        By heav'n to none but happy souls infus'd
          Pity it is, that e'er thou wast abus'd.
      - [Bounty]

Muse, bid the Morn awake!
  Sad Winter now declines,
    Each bird doth choose a mate;
      This day's Saint Valentine's.
        For that good bishop's sake
          Get up and let us see
            What beauty it shall be
              That Fortune us assigns.
      - Additional Odes--To his Valentine
        [Valentines]

They now to fight are gone;
  Armor on armor shone;
    Drum now to drum did groan,
      To hear was wonder;
        That with the cries they make,
          The very earth did shake;
            Trumpet to trumpet spake,
              Thunder to thunder.
      - Ballad of Agincourt (st. 8) [War]

Of doues I haue a dainty paire
  Which, when you please to take the aier,
    About your head shall gently houer,
      Your cleere browe from the sunne to couer,
        And with their nimble wings shall fan you
          That neither cold nor heate shall tan you,
            And like umbrellas, with their feathers
              Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers.
      - Davis [Umbrellas]

When Time shall turne those Amber Lockes to Gray.
      - England's Heroical Epistles [Time]

By them there sat the loving pelican,
  Whose young ones, poison'd by the serpent's sting,
    With her own blood to life again doth bring.
      - Noah's Flood [Pelicans]

The falcon and the dove sit there together,
  And th' one of them doth prune the other's feather.
      - Noah's Flood [Falcons]

The coast was clear.
      - Nymphidia [Proverbial Phrases]

Next these learn'd Jonson in this list I bring
  Who had drunk deep of the Pierian Spring.
      - Of Poets and Poesie [Learning]

Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,
  And finds that by his strength but vainly he doth strive;
    His tail takes in his teeth, and bending like a bow,
      That's to the compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw:
        Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand,
          That, bended end to end, and flerted from the hand,
            Far off itself doth cast. so does the salmon vaut.
              And if at first he fail, his second summersaut
                He instantly assays and from his nimble ring,
                  Still yarking never leaves, until himself he fling
                    Above the streamful top of the surrounded heap.
      - Poly-Olbion (sixth song, l. 45) [Fish]

Prince Edward all in gold, as he great Jove had been,
  The Mountfords all in plumes, like estridges were seen.
      - Poly-Olbion (st. 22)
        [Ostriches (Estridges)]

In this spacious isle I think there is not one
  But he hath heard some talk of Hood and Little John,
    Of Tuck, the merry friar, which many a sermon made
      In praise of Robin Hood, his outlaws, and their trade.
      - Polyolbion [Story Telling]

As Love and I late harbour'd in one inn,
  With proverbs thus each other entertain;
    "In love there is no lack," thus I begin;
      "Fair words make fools," replieth he again;
        "Who spares to speak doth spare to speed," quoth I;
          "As well," saith he, "too forward as too slow";
            "Fortune assists the boldest," I reply;
              "A hasty man," quote he, "ne'er wanted woe";
                "Labour is light where love," quote I, "doth pay";
                  "Light burden's heavy, if far borne";
                    Quoth I, "The main lost, cast the by away";
                      "Y'have spun a fair thread," he replies in scorn.
                        And having thus awhile each other thwarted
                          Fools as we met, so fools again we parted.
      - Proverbs [Proverbs (General)]

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.
      - Sonnet [Kisses]

Better sit still, than rise to meet the devil.
      - The Owl [Devil]

For that fine madness still he did retain,
  Which rightly should possess a poet's brain.
      - To Henry Reynolds--Of Poets and Poesy
         (l. 109) [Poets]

Last Revised: 2007 January 1
Copyright © 1999-2007 John C. Shepard. All Rights Reserved.
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