And that fair lampe which useth to enflame
The hearts of men with selfe-consuming fyre, 275
Thenceforth seemes fowle, and full of sinfull blame;
And all that pompe to which proud minds aspyre
By name of Honor, and so much desyre,
Seemes to them basenesse, and all riches drosse,
And all mirth sadnesse, and all lucre losse.

280

So full their eyes are of that glorious sight,
And senses fraught with such satietie,
That in nought else on earth they can delight,
But in th' aspect of that felicitie,

Which they have written in theyr inward ey; 285
On which they feed, and in theyr fastened mynd
All happie ioy and full contentment fynd.

Ah, then, my hungry Soule! which long hast fed
On idle fancies of thy foolish thought,
And, with false Beauties flattering bait misled, 200
Hast after vaine deceiptfuli shadowes sought,
Which all are fled, and now have left thee nought
But late repentance through thy follies prief;
Ah! cease to gaze on matter of thy grief:

And looke at last up to that Soveraine Light, 295
From whose pure beams al perfect Beauty springs,
That kindleth love in every godly spright,
Even the love of God; which loathing brings
Of this vile world and these gay-seeming things;
With whose sweet pleasures being so possest,
Thy straying thoughts henceforth for ever rest. 301

I.

ONE day, whiles that my dailie cares did sleepe,
My spirit, shaking off her earthly prison,
Began to enter into meditation deepe

Of things exceeding reach of common reason;
Such as this age, in which all good is geason,
And all that humble is, and mean debaced,
Hath brought forth in her last declining season,
Grief of good mindes, to see goodnesse disgraced!
On which, whenas my thought was throghly placed,
Unto my eyes strange shows presented were;
Picturing that, which I in mind embraced,
That yet those sights empassion me full nere:
Such as they were, fair Lady! take in worth,
That when time serves may bring things better
[forth.
In summers day, when Phoebus fairly shone,
I saw a Bull as white as driven snowe,
With gilden hornes embowed like the moone,
In a fresh flowring meadow lying lowe;

Up to his eares the verdant grasse did growe,
And the gay floures did offer to be cater;
But he with fatnes so did overflowe,

That he all wallowed in the weedes downe beaten,
Ne car'd with them his daintie lips to sweeten:
Till that a Brize, a scorned little creature,
Through his faire hide his angrie sting did threaten,
And vext so sore, that all his goodly feature

And all his plenteous pasture nought him pleased:
So by the small the great is oft diseased.

III.

Beside the fruitfull shore of muddie Nile,
Upon a sunnie banke outstretched lay,
In monstrous length, a mightie crocodile,
That, cram'd with guiltless blood and greedy pray
Of wretched people, travailing that way,

Thought all things lesse than his disdainful pride:
I saw a little bird, call'd Tedula,

The least of thousands which on earth abide,
That forst this hideous beast to open wide
The griesly gates of his devouring hell,
And let him feede, as Nature doth provide,
Upon his iaws, that with blacke venime swell.
Why then should greatest things the least disdaine,
Sith that so small so mightie can constraine ?

IV.

The kingly bird, that beares loves thunder-clap,
One day did scorne the simple Scarabee;

Proud of his highest service and good hap,
That made all other foules his thralls to bee:
The sillie flie that no redresse did see,
Spide where the Eagle built his towring nest,
And, kindling fire within the hollow tree,
Burnt up his yong ones, and himselfe distrest;
Ne suffred him in anie place to rest,

But drove in Ioves own lap his egs to lay;
Where gathering also filth him to infest,
Forst with the filth his egs to fling away:
For which when as the foule was wroth, said love,
Lo! how the least the greatest may reprove.

SPENSER. VOL. VII.

222 VISIONS OF THE WORLDS VANITIE.

V.

Toward the sea turning my troubled eye,
I saw the fish (if fish I may it cleepe)
That makes the sea before his face to flye,
And with his flaggie finnes doth seeme to sweepe
The foamie waves out of the dreadfull deep,
The huge leviathan, Dame Nature's wonder,
Making his sport, that manie makes to weep:
A sword-fish small him from the rest did sunder,
That, in his throat him pricking softly under,
His wide abysse him forced forth to spewe,
That all the sea did roare like heavens thunder,
And all the waves were staind with filthie hew.
Hereby I learned have not to despise

Whatever thing seemes small in common eyes.

VI.

An hideous dragon, dreadfull to behold,

Whose backe was arm'd against the dint of speare,
With shields of brasse that shone like burnisht golde,
And forked sting, that death in it did beare,
Strove with a spider, his unequall peare;
And bad defiance to his enemie.

The subtill vermin, creeping closely neare,
Did in his drinke shed poyson privilie;
Which, through his intrailes spredding diversly,
Made him to swell, that nigh his bowels burst,
And him enforst to yield the victorie,
That did so much in his owne greatnesse trust.
O, how great vainnesse is it then to scorne
The weake, that hath the strong so oft forlorne?

VII.

High on a hill a goodly Cedar grewe,
Of wondrous length, and streight proportion
That farre abroad her daintie odours threwe;
Mongst all the daughters of proud Libanon,
Her match in beautie was not anie one.
Shortly within her inmost pith there bred
A little wicked worme, perceiv'd of none,
That on her sap and vitall moisture fed:
Thenceforth her garland, so much honoured,
Began to die, (O great ruth for the same!)
And her faire lockes fell from her loftie head,
That shortly balde and bared she became.

I, which this sight beheld, was much dismayed,
To see so goodly thing so soone decayed.

VIII.

Soone after this I saw an Elephant,
Adorn'd with bells and bosses gorgeouslie,
That on his backe did beare (as batteilant)
A gilden towre, which shone exceedinglie;
That he himselfe, through foolish vanitie,
Both for his rich attire, and goodly forme,
Was puffed up with passing surquedrie,
And shortly gan all other beasts to scorne.
Till that a little Ant, a silly worme,
Into his nostrils creeping, so him pained,
That, casting down his towres, he did deforme
Both borrowed pride, and native beautie stained.
Let, therefore, nought that great is therein glory;
Sith so small thing his happines may varie.