Nor let the Generall thinke I soyle his worth In that I raise this forward youth so neare Those honours he deserves from Genzericke; For he may live to serve my Henrick thus, And growing vertue must not want reward.

But, O vaine labours of terrestriall wit, That buildes so stronglie on so frayle a soyle, As with each storme does fall away and flit, And gives the fruit of all your travailes toyle 515 To be the pray of Tyme, and Fortunes spoyle, I saw this towre fall sodainlie to dust, That nigh with griefe thereof my heart was brust.

"O! who would not recount the strong divorces Of that great warre, which Troianes oft behelde, And oft beheld the warlike Greekish forces, When Teucrian soyle with bloodie rivers swelde, 500 And wide Sigraean shores were spred with corses, And Simois and Xanthus blood outwelde; Whilst Hector raged, with outragious minde, Flames, weapons, wounds, in Greeks fleete to have tynde.

He fed his cubs with fat of all the soyle, And with the sweete of others sweating toyle; He crammed them with crumbs of benefices, And fild their mouthes with meeds of malefices; [Malifices, evil deeds.]

These heapes of stones, these old wals which ye see, Were first enclosures but of salvage soyle; And these brave pallaces, which maystred bee Of time, were shepheards cottages somewhile.

I saw a thousand huntsmen, which descended Downe from the mountaines bordring Lombardie, That with an hundred speares her flank wide rened: I saw her on the plaine outstretched lie, Throwing out thousand throbs in her owne soyle**: Soone on a tree

"Out of the world thus was she reft away, Out of the world, unworthy such a spoyle, And borne to heaven, for heaven a fitter pray; Much fitter then the lyon which with toyle 165 Alcides slew, and fixt in firmament; Her now I seeke throughout this earthly soyle, And seeking misse, and missing doe lament.

After long stormes and tempests sad assay, Which hardly I endured heretofore, In dread of death, and daungerous dismay, With which my silly bark was tossed sore, I doe at length descry the happy shore, In which I hope ere long for to arryve: Fayre soyle it seemes from far, and fraught with store Of all that deare and daynty is alyve.

out of thy soyle*, In which thou wallowest like to filthy swyne, And doest thy mynd in durty pleasures moyle**, 220 Unmindfull of that dearest Lord of thyne; Lift up to him thy heavie clouded eyne, That thou this soveraine bountie mayst behold, And read, through love, his mercies manifold.

[* Soyle, mire.

Perhaps he loues you now, And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch The vertue of his feare: but you must feare

[Footnote A: Here in the Quarto: This heauy headed reueale east and west Makes vs tradust, and taxed of other nations, They clip vs drunkards, and with Swinish phrase Soyle our addition, and indeede it takes From our atchieuements, though perform'd at height The pith and marrow of our attribute, So oft it chaunces in particuler men,

[Sidenote: Description of the fruitfulnesse of that soyle.]

Pity such true love, which like blessed seed Sowne in such fertile soyle his princely brest, By the rough stormy brow and winters hate Of adverse parents should be timelesse nipt And dye e're it attayne maturity.

That Leprosie in her seemd perfect beauty And she did guild her imperfections o're With vertue, which no foule calumnious breath Could ever soyle: true vertues dye is such That malice cannot stayne nor envy tuch.

Thus, in the sonnets appended to the "Faëry Queen," the poem on which his celebrity rests, he addresses this Earl of Ormond: "Receive, most noble lord, a single taste Of the wilde fruit which savage soyle hath bred; Which, beeing through long wars left almost waste, With brutish barbarisme is overspred.

" Again, addressing himself to his patron, Lord Grey, he says, "Rude rimes, the which a rustick nurse did weave In savage soyle, far from Parnasso Mount.

" Several other of the finest productions of his brain owe their birth to the "savage soyle" of Ireland; his descriptions of the country, his dialogue on Irish affairs, his "Amoretti" and "Colin Clout's come home again," belong confessedly to this category.

The second passion of our poet, having had birth "In savage soyle, far from Parnasso Mount," is more barren of literary gossip and adventure, and may, therefore, we trust, be compressed into narrow limits.

I the wretched Claius Salute thy happy soyle, I that have liv'd Pelted with angry curses in a place As horrid as my griefes, the Lylibaean mountaines, These sixteene frozen winters; there have I Beene with rude out-lawes, living by such sinnes As runne o' th' score with justice 'gainst my prayers and wishes: