Yet fhewing, by their heapes, how great they

were.

But in their place doth now a third appeare,
Fayre Venice, flower of the last worlds delight;
And next to them in beauty draweth neare,
But farre exceedes in policie of right.

Yet not fo fayre her buildinges to behold
As Lewkenors ftile that hath her beautie told.
EDM. SPENCER,'

POEM I.

IN youth, before I waxed old,
The blynd boy, Venus baby,
For want of cunning made me bold,
In bitter hyve to grope for honny:
But, when he faw me ftung and cry,

He tooke his wings and

away

did fly.

POEM II.

AS Diane hunted on a day,

She chaunft to come where Cupid lay,
His quiver by his head:

One of his fhafts the ftole away,

And one of hers did close convay

Into the others ftead:

With that Love wounded my Loves hart, But Diane beafts with Cupids dart.

POEM III.

I SAW, in fect to my Dame
How little Cupid humbly came,

And said to her; "All hayle, my mother!"
But, when he saw me laugh, for fhame

His face with bashfull blood did flame,
Not knowing Venus from the other.
"Then, never blush, Cupid, quoth I,
For many have err'd in this beauty."

POEM IV.

UPON a day, as Love lay sweetly slumbring All in his mothers lap;

A gentle Bee, with his loud trumpet murm'ring, About him flew by hap.

Whereof when he was wakened with the noyfe, 5 And faw the beaft fo fmall;

"Whats this (quoth he) that gives fo great a

voyce,

That wakens men withall?”

In angry wize he flies about,

And threatens all with corage ftout.

To whom his mother clofely fmiling fayd, "Twixt earnest and 'twixt game:

"See ! thou thy felfe likewise art lyttle made, If thou regard the fame.

10

And yet thou fuffreft neyther gods in sky, 15 Nor men in earth, to reft:

But, when thou art difpofed cruelly,

IV. 7. So great a voice,] Meaning his "loud trumpet," ver. 3. Notwithstanding the obvious fenfe of this paffage, the modern editions have ftrangely altered the original reading to "fo weak a voice." TODD.

Theyr fleepe thou dooft moleft.
Then eyther change thy cruelty,
Or give lyke leave unto the fly."
Natheleffe, the cruell boy, not fo content,
Would needs the fly pursue;

And in his hand, with heedleffe hardiment,
Him caught for to fubdue.

But, when on it he hafty hand did lay,
The Bee him ftung therefore:

"Now out alas, he cryde, and welaway,
I wounded am full fore:

The fly, that I fo much did fcorne,

Hath hurt me with his little horne."

Unto his mother straight he weeping came,
And of his griefe complayned:

20

25

30

Who could not chufe but laugh at his fond game, Though fad to fee him pained.

"Think now (quoth fhe) my fon, how great the fmart

Of those whom thou doft wound :

Full many thou haft pricked to the hart,

That pitty never found:

Therefore, henceforth fome pitty take,
When thou doeft fpoyle of Lovers make.”

35

40

She tooke him ftreight full pitiously lamenting,

And wrapt him in her fmock:

IV. 42. And wrapt &c.] He borrowed this thought from jocular Mafter Skelton. See the edition of Skeltons Poems, 1736. p. 231. TODD.

She wrapt him foftly, all the while repenting That he the fly did mock.

She dreft his wound, and it embaulmed well 45 With falve of foveraigne might:

And then the bath'd him in a dainty well,

The well of deare delight.

Who would not oft be ftung as this,
To be fo bath'd in Venus blis?

The wanton boy was fhortly wel recured
Of that his malady:

But he, foone after, fresh again enured

His former cruelty.

And fince that time he wounded hath

With his fharpe dart of Love:

50

And now forgets the cruell careleffe elfe
His mothers heast to prove.

So now I languith, till he please

My pining anguish to appease.

IV. 53.

on F. Q. v. ix. 39. T. WARTON.

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enur'd] See my note