Renaissance Verse
@renaissanceverse.bsky.social
Extracts from the Penguin Book of Renaissance Verse, 1509-1659. Some of the greatest poets in English (Spenser, Donne, Shakespeare, Milton, Marvell) are collected in the book. Spellings modernized (haphazardly) by myself.
Had Helen then sat carding wool
(whose beautious face did breed such strife)
She had not been Sir Paris' trull,
nor caused so many lose their life.
Yet we by love did still agree,
To hold the bands of amity.
(whose beautious face did breed such strife)
She had not been Sir Paris' trull,
nor caused so many lose their life.
Yet we by love did still agree,
To hold the bands of amity.
June 18, 2025 at 10:25 PM
Had Helen then sat carding wool
(whose beautious face did breed such strife)
She had not been Sir Paris' trull,
nor caused so many lose their life.
Yet we by love did still agree,
To hold the bands of amity.
(whose beautious face did breed such strife)
She had not been Sir Paris' trull,
nor caused so many lose their life.
Yet we by love did still agree,
To hold the bands of amity.
... Why shouldst thou then
Admit the tillage of a harsh rough man?
Men leave behind them that which their sin shows,
And are as thieves traced, which rob when it snows.
But of our dalliance no more signs there are,
Than fishes leave in streams, or birds in air.
Admit the tillage of a harsh rough man?
Men leave behind them that which their sin shows,
And are as thieves traced, which rob when it snows.
But of our dalliance no more signs there are,
Than fishes leave in streams, or birds in air.
June 7, 2025 at 10:01 AM
... Why shouldst thou then
Admit the tillage of a harsh rough man?
Men leave behind them that which their sin shows,
And are as thieves traced, which rob when it snows.
But of our dalliance no more signs there are,
Than fishes leave in streams, or birds in air.
Admit the tillage of a harsh rough man?
Men leave behind them that which their sin shows,
And are as thieves traced, which rob when it snows.
But of our dalliance no more signs there are,
Than fishes leave in streams, or birds in air.
Were I a King I could command content;
Were I obscure unknown should be my cares,
And were I dead no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice of these things one to crave,
A Kingdom or a cottage or a grave.
#poetry #renaissance
Were I obscure unknown should be my cares,
And were I dead no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice of these things one to crave,
A Kingdom or a cottage or a grave.
#poetry #renaissance
June 5, 2025 at 10:03 PM
Were I a King I could command content;
Were I obscure unknown should be my cares,
And were I dead no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice of these things one to crave,
A Kingdom or a cottage or a grave.
#poetry #renaissance
Were I obscure unknown should be my cares,
And were I dead no thoughts should me torment,
Nor words, nor wrongs, nor loves, nor hopes, nor fears.
A doubtful choice of these things one to crave,
A Kingdom or a cottage or a grave.
#poetry #renaissance
Ye Country Comets, that portend
No War, nor Princes funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the Grasses fall;
Ye Glow-worms, whose officious Flame To wandering Mowers shows the way,
That in the Night have lost their aim,
And after foolish Fires do stray;
#poetry #renaissance
No War, nor Princes funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the Grasses fall;
Ye Glow-worms, whose officious Flame To wandering Mowers shows the way,
That in the Night have lost their aim,
And after foolish Fires do stray;
#poetry #renaissance
June 5, 2025 at 10:49 AM
Ye Country Comets, that portend
No War, nor Princes funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the Grasses fall;
Ye Glow-worms, whose officious Flame To wandering Mowers shows the way,
That in the Night have lost their aim,
And after foolish Fires do stray;
#poetry #renaissance
No War, nor Princes funeral,
Shining unto no higher end
Than to presage the Grasses fall;
Ye Glow-worms, whose officious Flame To wandering Mowers shows the way,
That in the Night have lost their aim,
And after foolish Fires do stray;
#poetry #renaissance
Farewell (sweet Cooke-ham) where I first obtained
Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remained;
And where the Muses gave their full consent,
I should have power the virtuous to content:
Where princely Palace willed me to indite,
The sacred story of the soul's delight.
#poetry #renaissance
Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remained;
And where the Muses gave their full consent,
I should have power the virtuous to content:
Where princely Palace willed me to indite,
The sacred story of the soul's delight.
#poetry #renaissance
June 2, 2025 at 9:53 PM
Farewell (sweet Cooke-ham) where I first obtained
Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remained;
And where the Muses gave their full consent,
I should have power the virtuous to content:
Where princely Palace willed me to indite,
The sacred story of the soul's delight.
#poetry #renaissance
Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remained;
And where the Muses gave their full consent,
I should have power the virtuous to content:
Where princely Palace willed me to indite,
The sacred story of the soul's delight.
#poetry #renaissance
Our hearts are doubled by the loss,
Here Mixture is Addition grown;
We both diffuse, and both ingross:
And we whose minds are so much one,
Never, yet ever are alone.
Here Mixture is Addition grown;
We both diffuse, and both ingross:
And we whose minds are so much one,
Never, yet ever are alone.
May 27, 2025 at 3:44 PM
Our hearts are doubled by the loss,
Here Mixture is Addition grown;
We both diffuse, and both ingross:
And we whose minds are so much one,
Never, yet ever are alone.
Here Mixture is Addition grown;
We both diffuse, and both ingross:
And we whose minds are so much one,
Never, yet ever are alone.
Each one contendeth and hath a great delight
With foot and with hand the bladder for to smite,
...
Running and leaping they drive away the cold.
The sturdy ploughmen lusty, strong and bold
Overcommeth the winter with driving the foot ball,
Forgetting labour and many a grievous fall.
#football
With foot and with hand the bladder for to smite,
...
Running and leaping they drive away the cold.
The sturdy ploughmen lusty, strong and bold
Overcommeth the winter with driving the foot ball,
Forgetting labour and many a grievous fall.
#football
May 23, 2025 at 10:30 PM
Each one contendeth and hath a great delight
With foot and with hand the bladder for to smite,
...
Running and leaping they drive away the cold.
The sturdy ploughmen lusty, strong and bold
Overcommeth the winter with driving the foot ball,
Forgetting labour and many a grievous fall.
#football
With foot and with hand the bladder for to smite,
...
Running and leaping they drive away the cold.
The sturdy ploughmen lusty, strong and bold
Overcommeth the winter with driving the foot ball,
Forgetting labour and many a grievous fall.
#football
I cannot honour them that sets their part
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long,
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.
I cannot crouch nor kneel to do such wrong
To worship them like God on earth alone
That are like wolves the silly lambs among.
#poetry #renaissance
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long,
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.
I cannot crouch nor kneel to do such wrong
To worship them like God on earth alone
That are like wolves the silly lambs among.
#poetry #renaissance
May 22, 2025 at 10:14 PM
I cannot honour them that sets their part
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long,
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.
I cannot crouch nor kneel to do such wrong
To worship them like God on earth alone
That are like wolves the silly lambs among.
#poetry #renaissance
With Venus and Bacchus all their life long,
Nor hold my peace of them although I smart.
I cannot crouch nor kneel to do such wrong
To worship them like God on earth alone
That are like wolves the silly lambs among.
#poetry #renaissance
No plant now knew the stock from which it came;
He grafts upon the wild the tame:
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green Seraglio has its eunuchs too;
Lest any tyrant him out-do.
#poetry #renaissance
He grafts upon the wild the tame:
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green Seraglio has its eunuchs too;
Lest any tyrant him out-do.
#poetry #renaissance
May 21, 2025 at 10:56 PM
No plant now knew the stock from which it came;
He grafts upon the wild the tame:
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green Seraglio has its eunuchs too;
Lest any tyrant him out-do.
#poetry #renaissance
He grafts upon the wild the tame:
That the uncertain and adult'rate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green Seraglio has its eunuchs too;
Lest any tyrant him out-do.
#poetry #renaissance
O Whither will you lead the Fair,
And spicy Daughter of the Morne?
Those Manacles of her soft Haire,
Princes, though free, would fain have worn.
What is her crime? what has she done? Did she, by breaking Beauty stay,
Or from his Course mislead the Sun;
So robb’d your Harvest of a day?
#poetry
And spicy Daughter of the Morne?
Those Manacles of her soft Haire,
Princes, though free, would fain have worn.
What is her crime? what has she done? Did she, by breaking Beauty stay,
Or from his Course mislead the Sun;
So robb’d your Harvest of a day?
#poetry
May 17, 2025 at 9:23 PM
O Whither will you lead the Fair,
And spicy Daughter of the Morne?
Those Manacles of her soft Haire,
Princes, though free, would fain have worn.
What is her crime? what has she done? Did she, by breaking Beauty stay,
Or from his Course mislead the Sun;
So robb’d your Harvest of a day?
#poetry
And spicy Daughter of the Morne?
Those Manacles of her soft Haire,
Princes, though free, would fain have worn.
What is her crime? what has she done? Did she, by breaking Beauty stay,
Or from his Course mislead the Sun;
So robb’d your Harvest of a day?
#poetry
And yet it grieves me that I cannot be
Near unto her whose virtues did agree
With those fair ornaments of outward beauty,
Which did enforce from all both love and duty.
Unconstant fortune, thou art most to blame,
Who casts us down into so low a frame
Near unto her whose virtues did agree
With those fair ornaments of outward beauty,
Which did enforce from all both love and duty.
Unconstant fortune, thou art most to blame,
Who casts us down into so low a frame
May 16, 2025 at 10:21 PM
And yet it grieves me that I cannot be
Near unto her whose virtues did agree
With those fair ornaments of outward beauty,
Which did enforce from all both love and duty.
Unconstant fortune, thou art most to blame,
Who casts us down into so low a frame
Near unto her whose virtues did agree
With those fair ornaments of outward beauty,
Which did enforce from all both love and duty.
Unconstant fortune, thou art most to blame,
Who casts us down into so low a frame
Here Thou art painted in the Dress
Of an Inhumane Murderess;
Examining upon our Hearts
Thy fertile Shop of cruel Arts:
Engines more keen than ever yet Adorned Tyrant's Cabinet;
Of which the most tormenting are
Black Eyes, red Lips, and curled Hair.
Of an Inhumane Murderess;
Examining upon our Hearts
Thy fertile Shop of cruel Arts:
Engines more keen than ever yet Adorned Tyrant's Cabinet;
Of which the most tormenting are
Black Eyes, red Lips, and curled Hair.
May 15, 2025 at 10:10 PM
Here Thou art painted in the Dress
Of an Inhumane Murderess;
Examining upon our Hearts
Thy fertile Shop of cruel Arts:
Engines more keen than ever yet Adorned Tyrant's Cabinet;
Of which the most tormenting are
Black Eyes, red Lips, and curled Hair.
Of an Inhumane Murderess;
Examining upon our Hearts
Thy fertile Shop of cruel Arts:
Engines more keen than ever yet Adorned Tyrant's Cabinet;
Of which the most tormenting are
Black Eyes, red Lips, and curled Hair.
I scarce believe my love to be so pure
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass;
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore,
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass;
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore,
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
May 14, 2025 at 9:27 PM
I scarce believe my love to be so pure
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass;
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore,
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
As I had thought it was,
Because it doth endure
Vicissitude, and season, as the grass;
Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore,
My love was infinite, if spring make it more.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
Faith (wench) I cannot court thy sprightly eyes,
With the base Vial placed between my Thighs
I cannot lisp, nor to some Fiddle sing, Nor run upon a high stretched Minikin
...
I am not fashioned for these amorous times,
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes.
#poetry #renaissance
With the base Vial placed between my Thighs
I cannot lisp, nor to some Fiddle sing, Nor run upon a high stretched Minikin
...
I am not fashioned for these amorous times,
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes.
#poetry #renaissance
May 14, 2025 at 12:54 PM
Faith (wench) I cannot court thy sprightly eyes,
With the base Vial placed between my Thighs
I cannot lisp, nor to some Fiddle sing, Nor run upon a high stretched Minikin
...
I am not fashioned for these amorous times,
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes.
#poetry #renaissance
With the base Vial placed between my Thighs
I cannot lisp, nor to some Fiddle sing, Nor run upon a high stretched Minikin
...
I am not fashioned for these amorous times,
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes.
#poetry #renaissance
Such subtle craft my Damsel doth conceive,
th'importune suit of my desire to shun:
for all that I in many days do weave,
in one short hour I find by her undone.
#poetry #renaissance
th'importune suit of my desire to shun:
for all that I in many days do weave,
in one short hour I find by her undone.
#poetry #renaissance
May 14, 2025 at 7:52 AM
Such subtle craft my Damsel doth conceive,
th'importune suit of my desire to shun:
for all that I in many days do weave,
in one short hour I find by her undone.
#poetry #renaissance
th'importune suit of my desire to shun:
for all that I in many days do weave,
in one short hour I find by her undone.
#poetry #renaissance
And other's feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.
#poetry #renaissance
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.
#poetry #renaissance
May 13, 2025 at 10:10 PM
And other's feet still seemed but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.
#poetry #renaissance
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write.
#poetry #renaissance
No, (Friend) thy Ring doth will me thus in vain,
Reason and Love have ever yet been twain.
...
To Cupid I my homage erst have done,
Let Reason rule the hearts that she hath won.
#poetry #renaissance
Reason and Love have ever yet been twain.
...
To Cupid I my homage erst have done,
Let Reason rule the hearts that she hath won.
#poetry #renaissance
May 12, 2025 at 4:35 PM
No, (Friend) thy Ring doth will me thus in vain,
Reason and Love have ever yet been twain.
...
To Cupid I my homage erst have done,
Let Reason rule the hearts that she hath won.
#poetry #renaissance
Reason and Love have ever yet been twain.
...
To Cupid I my homage erst have done,
Let Reason rule the hearts that she hath won.
#poetry #renaissance
Love farewell more dear to me
Then my life which thou preservest;
Life all joys are gone from thee,
Others have what thou deservest.
Oh my death doth spring from hence
I must die for her offence.
#poetry #renaissance
Then my life which thou preservest;
Life all joys are gone from thee,
Others have what thou deservest.
Oh my death doth spring from hence
I must die for her offence.
#poetry #renaissance
May 12, 2025 at 12:50 PM
Love farewell more dear to me
Then my life which thou preservest;
Life all joys are gone from thee,
Others have what thou deservest.
Oh my death doth spring from hence
I must die for her offence.
#poetry #renaissance
Then my life which thou preservest;
Life all joys are gone from thee,
Others have what thou deservest.
Oh my death doth spring from hence
I must die for her offence.
#poetry #renaissance
Pull up thy heart suppress thy brackish tears,
Torment thee not, but put away thy fears;
Dead to all joyes and living unto woe, slain quite by her that nere gave wiseman blow
Revive again and live without all drede,
the less afraid the better thou shalt speed.
#poetry #renaissance
Torment thee not, but put away thy fears;
Dead to all joyes and living unto woe, slain quite by her that nere gave wiseman blow
Revive again and live without all drede,
the less afraid the better thou shalt speed.
#poetry #renaissance
May 11, 2025 at 9:51 PM
Pull up thy heart suppress thy brackish tears,
Torment thee not, but put away thy fears;
Dead to all joyes and living unto woe, slain quite by her that nere gave wiseman blow
Revive again and live without all drede,
the less afraid the better thou shalt speed.
#poetry #renaissance
Torment thee not, but put away thy fears;
Dead to all joyes and living unto woe, slain quite by her that nere gave wiseman blow
Revive again and live without all drede,
the less afraid the better thou shalt speed.
#poetry #renaissance
The high mountains are blasted oft
When the low valley is mild and soft.
Fortune with Health stands at debate.
The fall is grievous from aloft.
And sure, circa Regna tonat.
#poetry #renaissance
When the low valley is mild and soft.
Fortune with Health stands at debate.
The fall is grievous from aloft.
And sure, circa Regna tonat.
#poetry #renaissance
May 11, 2025 at 10:11 AM
The high mountains are blasted oft
When the low valley is mild and soft.
Fortune with Health stands at debate.
The fall is grievous from aloft.
And sure, circa Regna tonat.
#poetry #renaissance
When the low valley is mild and soft.
Fortune with Health stands at debate.
The fall is grievous from aloft.
And sure, circa Regna tonat.
#poetry #renaissance
Can we not force from widowed Poetry,
Now thou art dead (Great DONNE) one Elegy
To crown thy Hearse? Why yet dare we not trust
Though with unkneaded dough-baked prose thy dust,
...Dry as the sand that measures it, should lay
Upon thy Ashes, on the funeral day?
#poetry #renaissance
Now thou art dead (Great DONNE) one Elegy
To crown thy Hearse? Why yet dare we not trust
Though with unkneaded dough-baked prose thy dust,
...Dry as the sand that measures it, should lay
Upon thy Ashes, on the funeral day?
#poetry #renaissance
May 10, 2025 at 7:23 PM
Can we not force from widowed Poetry,
Now thou art dead (Great DONNE) one Elegy
To crown thy Hearse? Why yet dare we not trust
Though with unkneaded dough-baked prose thy dust,
...Dry as the sand that measures it, should lay
Upon thy Ashes, on the funeral day?
#poetry #renaissance
Now thou art dead (Great DONNE) one Elegy
To crown thy Hearse? Why yet dare we not trust
Though with unkneaded dough-baked prose thy dust,
...Dry as the sand that measures it, should lay
Upon thy Ashes, on the funeral day?
#poetry #renaissance
When water turns, dry grows a flowing head:
In age each thing, decays by course of kind:
Yet whiles the oil, in lamp may make a blaze,
Or candle in, the socket shows a light, On sparkling flame, the clearest eyes will gaze,
And comfort find, thereby in darkest night
In age each thing, decays by course of kind:
Yet whiles the oil, in lamp may make a blaze,
Or candle in, the socket shows a light, On sparkling flame, the clearest eyes will gaze,
And comfort find, thereby in darkest night
May 10, 2025 at 12:26 PM
When water turns, dry grows a flowing head:
In age each thing, decays by course of kind:
Yet whiles the oil, in lamp may make a blaze,
Or candle in, the socket shows a light, On sparkling flame, the clearest eyes will gaze,
And comfort find, thereby in darkest night
In age each thing, decays by course of kind:
Yet whiles the oil, in lamp may make a blaze,
Or candle in, the socket shows a light, On sparkling flame, the clearest eyes will gaze,
And comfort find, thereby in darkest night
that region seemeth there so wide,
That unto us that are so far a sunder,
Seems but a little circle, and beside,
That to behold the ground that him lay under,
A man had need to have been sharply eyed,
And bend his brows, and mark ev’n all they might,
It seemed so small, now chiefly wanting light.
That unto us that are so far a sunder,
Seems but a little circle, and beside,
That to behold the ground that him lay under,
A man had need to have been sharply eyed,
And bend his brows, and mark ev’n all they might,
It seemed so small, now chiefly wanting light.
May 9, 2025 at 10:15 PM
that region seemeth there so wide,
That unto us that are so far a sunder,
Seems but a little circle, and beside,
That to behold the ground that him lay under,
A man had need to have been sharply eyed,
And bend his brows, and mark ev’n all they might,
It seemed so small, now chiefly wanting light.
That unto us that are so far a sunder,
Seems but a little circle, and beside,
That to behold the ground that him lay under,
A man had need to have been sharply eyed,
And bend his brows, and mark ev’n all they might,
It seemed so small, now chiefly wanting light.
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy;
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy,
Seven years tho’wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
#poetry #renaissance
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy,
Seven years tho’wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
#poetry #renaissance
May 9, 2025 at 7:29 PM
Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy;
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy,
Seven years tho’wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
#poetry #renaissance
My sin was too much hope of thee, lov’d boy,
Seven years tho’wert lent to me, and I thee pay,
Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.
#poetry #renaissance
There I should see a Sun, by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget;
But that Christ on this Cross,
did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
And by that setting endless day beget;
But that Christ on this Cross,
did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
May 9, 2025 at 12:14 PM
There I should see a Sun, by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget;
But that Christ on this Cross,
did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
#poetry #renaissance #donne
And by that setting endless day beget;
But that Christ on this Cross,
did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
#poetry #renaissance #donne