The Poetical Works of Edmund Spenser, Volume 5 | Page 6

And they, for pittie of the sad wayment*, 390 Which Orpheus for Eurydice did make, Her back againe to life sent for his sake. [* _Wayment_, lament.]
"So happie are they, and so fortunate, Whom the Pierian sacred sisters love, That freed from bands of impacable** fate, 395 And power of death, they live for aye above, Where mortall wreakes their blis may not remove: But with the gods, for former verities meede, On nectar and ambrosia do feede. [* _Impacable_, unappeasable.]
"For deeds doe die, how ever noblie donne, 400 And thoughts of men do as themselves decay; But wise wordes taught in numbers for to runne, Recorded by the Muses, live for ay; Ne may with storming showers be washt away, Ne bitter-breathing windes with harmfull blast, 405 Nor age, nor envie, shall them ever wast.
"In vaine doo earthly princes then, in vaine, Seeke with pyramides to heaven aspired, Or huge colosses built with costlie paine, Or brasen pillours never to be fired, 410 Or shrines made of the mettall most desired, To make their memories for ever live: For how can mortall immortalitie give?
"Such one Mausolus made, the worlds great wonder, But now no remnant doth thereof remaine: 415 Such one Marcellus, but was torne with thunder: Such one Lisippus, but is worne with raine: Such one King Edmond, but was rent for gaine. All such vaine moniments of earthlie masse, Devour'd of Time, in time to nought doo passe. 420
"But Fame with golden wings aloft doth flie, Above the reach of ruinous decay, And with brave plumes doth beate the azure skie, Admir'd of base-borne men from farre away: Then who so will with vertuous deeds assay 425 To mount to heaven, on Pegasus must ride, And with sweete Poets verse be glorifide.
"For not to have been dipt in Lethe lake, Could save the sonne of Thetis from to die; But that blinde bard did him immortall make 430 With verses dipt in deaw of Castalie: Which made the Easterne conquerour to crie, O fortunate yong man! whose vertue found So brave a trompe thy noble acts to sound.
"Therefore in this halfe happie I doo read* 435 Good Melibae, that hath a poet got To sing his living praises being dead, Deserving never here to be forgot, In spight of envie, that his deeds would spot: Since whose decease, learning lies unregarded, 440 And men of armes doo wander unrewarded. [* _Read_, consider]
"Those two be those two great calamities, That long agoe did grieve the noble spright Of Salomon with great indignities, Who whilome was alive the wisest wight: 445 But now his wisedome is disprooved quite, For he that now welds* all things at his will Scorns th'one and th'other in his deeper skill. [* _Welds_, wields]
"O griefe of griefes! O gall of all good heartes! To see that vertue should dispised bee 450 Of him that first was raisde for vertuous parts, And now, broad spreading like an aged tree, Lets none shoot up that nigh him planted bee. O let the man of whom the Muse is scorned, Nor alive nor dead, be of the Muse adorned! 455
"O vile worlds trust! that with such vaine illusion Hath so wise men bewitcht and overkest*, That they see not the way of their confusion: O vainesse to be added to the rest That do my soule with inward griefe infest! 460 Let them behold the piteous fall of mee, And in my case their owne ensample see. [* _Overkest_, overcast.]
"And who so els that sits in highest seate Of this worlds glorie, worshipped of all, Ne feareth change of time, nor fortunes threats, 465 Let him behold the horror of my fall, And his owne end unto remembrance call; That of like ruine he may warned bee, And in himselfe be moov'd to pittie mee."
Thus having ended all her piteous plaint, 470 With dolefull shrikes shee vanished away, That I, through inward sorrowe wexen faint, And all astonished with deepe dismay For her departure, had no word to say; But sate long time in sencelesse sad affright, 475 Looking still, if I might of her have sight.
Which when I missed, having looked long, My thought returned greeved home againe, Renewing her complaint with passion strong, For ruth of that same womans piteous paine; 480 Whose wordes recording in my troubled braine, I felt such anguish wound my feeble heart, That frosen horror ran through everie part.
So inlie greeving in my groning brest, And deepelie muzing at her doubtfull speach, 485 Whose meaning much I labored foorth to wreste, Being above my slender reasons reach, At length, by demonstration me to teach, Before mine eies strange sights presented were, Like tragicke pageants seeming to appeare. 490
I.
I saw an Image, all of massie gold, Placed on high upon an