Anthology contents

Sir William Alexander of Menstrie (later Earl of Stirling) (1567-1640)

From Aurora (1604):

From Aurora (1604):

Sonnet 1

Whil'st charming fancies move me to reveale
The idle ravings of my brain-sicke youth
My heart doth pant within, to heare my mouth
Unfold the follies which it would conceale
Yet bitter critickes may mistake my mind:
Not beautie, no, but vertue rais'd my fires
Whose sacred flame did cherish chast desires
And through my cloudie fortune clearely shin'd
But had not others otherwise advisd,
My cabinet should yet these scroles containe,
This childish birth of a conceitie braine,
Which I had still as trifling toyes despisd.
Pardoun those errours of mine unripe age;
My tender Muse by time may grow more sage.

Sonnet 14

When first I view'd that ey-enchanting face
Which for the world chiefe treasure was esteem'd,
I, judging simply all things as they seem'd,
Thought humble lookes had promist pitie place
Yet were they but ambushments, to deceive
My over-rash heart that fear'd no secret fires.
Thy bashfulnesse emboldened my desires,
Which seem'd to offer what I was to crave.
Can crueltie then borrow beauties shape?
And pride so decke it selfe with modest lookes?
Too pleasant baites to hide such poison'd hookes,
Whose unsuspected slight none can escape!
Who can escape this more then divellish art,
When golden haires disguise a brazen heart.

Sonnet 29

I envie not Endimion now no more,
Nor all the happinesse his sleepe did yeeld.
While as Diana straying, through the field,
Suck'd from his sleep-seal'd lippes balme for her sore:
Whil'st I embrac'd the shadow of my death,
I dreaming did farre greater pleasure prove,
And quaff'd with Cupid sugred draughts of love,
Then, Jove-like, feeding on a nectar'd breath.
Now judge which of us two might be most prowd:
He got a kisse, yet not enjoy'd it right,
And I got none, yet tasted that delight
Which Venus on Adonis once bestow'd;
He onely got the bodie of a kisse,
And I the soule of it, which he did misse.

Sonnet 36

Loyr, witnesse thou what was my spotlesse part,
Whil'st thou amaz'd to see thy Nymphes so faire,
As loth to part thence where they did repaire,
Still murm'ring did thy plaints t'each stone impart:
Then did mine eyes betake them to my hart,
As scorning to behold all those, though rare,
And gaz'd upon her beauties image there,
Whose eyes have furnish'd Cupid many a dart:
And as devoted only unto her,
They did disdaine for to bestow their light,
For to be entertain'd with any sight,
Save onely that which made them first to erre.
Then, famous river, through the Ocean glide,
And tell my loue how constant I abide.

Sonnet 52

Some men delight huge buildings to behold,
Some theaters, mountaines, floods and famous springs;
Some monuments of monarkes, and such things
As in the bookes of fame have been inrol'd:
Those stately townes that to the starres were rais'd,
Some would their ruines see (their beautie's gone)
Of which the worlds three parts, each bosts of one,
For Caesar, Hanniball and Hector prais'd:
Though none of those, I love a sight as rare,
Even her that ore my life as Queene doth sit,
Juno in majestie, Pallas in wit,
As Phoebe chast, then Venus farre more faire:
And though her lookes euen threaten death to me,
Their threatnings are so sweet, I cannot flie.

Song 7

O memorable day, that chanc'd to see
A world of lovuing wonders strangely wrought,
Deepe in my brest engrav'd by many a thought,
Thou shalt be celebrated still by me;
And if that Phoebus so benigne will be,
That happie, happie place,
Whereas that divine face
Did distribute such grace
By pilgrims once as sacred shall be sought.
When she whom I a long time have affected,
affected: loved
Amongst the flowres went forth to take the aire,
They being proud of such a guests repaire,
Though by her garments divers times dejected,
dejected: cast down
To gaze on her againe themselues erected;
Then softly seem'd to say:
O happie we this day,
Our worthlesse dew, it may,
Washing her feete, with nectar now compare!
The roses did the rosie hue envy
Of those sweet lips that did the bees deceave;
That colour oft the lillies wish'd to have
Which did the alabaster piller die,
On which all beauties glorie did rely;
Her breath so sweetly smell'd,
The violets as excell'd
To looke downe were compell'd,
And so confest what foile they did receave.
I heard at lest, love made it so appeare,
The fethered flockes her praises did proclaime;
She whom the tyrant Tereus put to shame
Did leave sad plaints, and learn'd to praise my deare;
To joyne with her sweet breath the winds drew neare:
They were in love no doubt,
For circling her about,
Their fancies bursted out,
Whil'st all their sounds seem'd but to sound her name.
There I mine eyes with pleasant sights did cloy,
cloy: overfeed
Whose severall parts in vaine I strive t'unfold;
My faire was fairer many a thousand fold
Then Venus, when she woo'd the bashfull boy:
This I remember both with griefe and joy,
Each of her lookes a dart,
Might well have kill'd a hart:
Mine from my breast did part,
And thence retir'd it to a sweeter hold.
Whil'st in her bosome whiles she plac'd a flowre,
Straight of the same I envy would the case,
And wish'd my hand a flowre t'have found like grace;
Then when on her it rain'd some hapning howre,
I wish'd like Iove t'have falne down in a showre;
But when the flowres she spred,
To make her selfe a bed,
And with her gowne them cled,
A thousand times I wish'd t'have had their place.
Thus whil'st that senslesse things that blisse attain'd,
Which unto me good justice would adjudge,
Behind a little bush (O poore refuge
Fed with her face, I lizard-like remain'd;
Then from her eyes so sweet a poison rain'd,
That gladly drinking death,
I was not mov'd to wrath,
Though like t'have lost my breath,
Drown'd with the streames of that most sweet deluge.
And might that happinesse continue still,
Which did content me with so pleasant sights,
My soule then ravish'd with most rare delights,
With ambrosie and nectar I might fill,
Which ah! I feare, I surfeiting would kill
Who would leave off to thinke,
To move, to breathe, or winke,
But never irke to drink
The sugred liquor that transports my sprites?

Sonnet 105

Awake my muse, and leave to dreame of loves;
Shake off soft fancies chaines, I must be free;
Ile perch no more upon the mirtle tree,
Nor glide through th'aire with beauties sacred doves;
But with Joues stately bird Ile leave my nest,
And trie my sight against Apolloes raies:
Then if that ought my ventrous course dismaies,
Upon the olives bough Ile light and rest:
Ile tune my accents to a trumpet now
And seeke the laurell in another field:
Thus I that once, as beauties meanes did yeeld
Did divers garments on my thoughts bestow,
Like Icarus I feare, unwisely bold,
Am purpos'd others passions now t'unfold.

Song 10

Farewell sweet fancies and once deare delights,
The treasures of my life, which made me prove
prove: test
That unaccomplish'd joy that charm'd the sprights,
And whil'st by it I onely seem'd to move,
Did hold my ravish'd soule, big with desire,
That tasting those, to greater did aspire.
Farewell free thraldome, freedome that was thrall,
While as I led a solitary life,
Yet never lesse alone, whil'st arm'd for all,
My thoughts were busied with an endlesse strife;
For then not having bound my selfe to any,
I being bound to none, was bound to many.
Great god that tam'st the gods old-witted child,
Whose temples brests, whose altars are mens hearts,
From my hearts fort thy legions ar exild,
And Hymens torch hath burn'd out all thy darts:
Since I in end have bound my selfe to one,
That by this meanes I may be bound by none.
Thou daintie goddesse with the soft white skinne,
To whom so many offrings dayly smoke,
Were beauties processe yet for to begin,
That sentence I would labour to revoke
Which on Mount Ida as thy smiles did charme,
The Phrigian shepheard gave to his owne harme.
And if the question were referd to mee,
On whom I would bestow the ball of gold,
I feare me Venus should be last of three,
For with the Thunderers sister I would hold,
Whose honest flames pent in a lawfull bounds,
No feare disturbs, nor yet no shame confounds.
I mind to speake no more of beautie Dove;
The peacocke is the bird whose fame Ile raise;
Not that I Argos need to watch my love,
But so his mistris Iuno for to praise:
And if I wish his eyes, then it shall be
That I with many eyes my love may see.
Then farewell crossing joyes, and joyfull crosses,
Most bitter sweets and yet most sugred sowers,
Most hurtfull gaines, yet most commodious losses,
That made my yeares to flee away like howers,
And spent the spring time of mine age in vaine,
Which now my summer must redeeme againe.
O welcome easie yoke, sweet bondage come,
I seeke not from thy toiles for to be shielded,
But I am well content to be orecome,
Since that I must commaund when I haue yeelded:
Then here I quit both Cupid and his mother,
And do resigne my selfe t'obtaine another.

A Short View of the State of Man

Must wretched man, when com'd where woes abound,
Ere to the sunne, unclose his eyes to teares?
Whom when scarse borne, one straight to prison beares,
Loos'd from the bellie, in the cradle bound;
Then rising by the rod, he doth attend 
The misteries of miserie at length,
And still his burthens growing with his strength,
Huge toyles and cares his youths perfection spends.
Last, helping Nature wants, O deare bought breath! 
He must have eyes of glasse and feete of tree,
Till lyke a bow his bodie turnes to be,
Which age hath bended to be shot by Death.
O, O, I see that from the mothers womb
There's but a litle steppe unto the tombe. 

A comparison betuix heich and law estaitis

The bramble growis althocht it be obscure,
Quhillis michty cederis feilis the busteous windis:
And myld plebeyan spreitis may leif secure,
Quhylis michty tempestis toss imperiall myndis.
Top