BRITTAIN'S IDA.  
Written by that Renowned Poet, EDMOND SPENCER.  
LONDON: Printed for THOMAS WALKLEY, and are to be sold at his shop at the Eagle and Child in Britain's Burse. 1628.   

TO THE RIGHT Noble Lady MARY, Daughter to the most Illustrious Prince GEORGE, Duke of Buckingham.  MOST NOBLE LADY: 
I have presumed to present this little Poem to your Honourable hand, encouraged only by the worth of the Famous Author (for I am certainly assured by the ablest, and most knowing men, that it must be a Work of Spencers, of whom it were pity that any thing should be lost) and doubting not but your Ladyship will graciously accept, though from a mean hand, this humble present, since the man that offers it, is a true Honourer and Observer of yourself, and your Princely Family, and shall ever remain  
The humblest of your devoted Servants. Thomas Walkley.   
Martial. 
Accipe facundi culicem studiose Maronis,  
Ne nugis positis, arma virumque Cana●  

SE here that stately Muse, that erst could raise,  
In lasting numbers great Eliza's praise,  
And dress fair Virtue in so rich attire,  
That even her Foes were forced to admire,  
And court her Heavenly beauty, she that taught  
The Grace's grace, and made the Virtues thought  
More virtuous than before, is pleased here,  
To slack her serious flight, and feed your ear  
With love's delightsome toys; do not refuse  
These harmless sports, 'tis learned Spencer's Muse;  
But think his losest Poems worthier than  
The serious follies of unskilful men.    

Brittain's Ida.  

Cant. 1.  
The Argument.  

The youthly Shepherds woning here,  
And Beauties rare displayed appear:  
What exercise ●ee chief affects,  
His Name, and scornful love neglects.   

1  
IN Ida Vale (who knows not Ida Vale?)  
When harmless Troy yet felt not Grecian spite:  
A hundrend Shepherds wooned, and in the Dale,  
While their fair Flocks the three leaved Pastures bite:  
The Shepherd's boys, with hundred sport light,  
Gave wings unto the times to speedy haste:  
Ah foolish Lads, that strove with lavish waist,  
So fast to spend the time, that spends your time as fast.   

2  
Among the rest that all the rest excelled,  
A dainty Boy there wonned, whose harmless years,  
Now in their freshest budding gently swelled;  
His Nymph-like face ne'er felt the nimble ●heeres,  
Youth's downy blossom through his cheek appears:  
His lovely limbs (but love he quite discarded)  
Were made for play (but he no play regarded,)  
And fit love to reward, and with love be rewarded.   

3  
High was his forehead, arched with silver mould,  
(Where never anger churlish wrinkle dighted)  
His auburne locks hung like dark threads of gold,  
That wanton airs (with their fair length incited)  
To play among their wanton curls delighted.  
His smiling eyes with simple truth were siored:  
Ah! how should truth in those thief eyes be stored,  
Which thousand loves had stolen, and never one restored.   

4  
His lilly-cheeke might seem an ivory plain,  
More purely white than frozen Apennine:  
Where lovely bashfulness did sweetly rain,  
In blushing scarlet clothed, and purple fine.  
A hundred hearts had this delightful shrine,  
(Still cold itself) inflamed with hot desire,  
That well the face might seem, in diverse tire,  
To be a burning snow, or else a freezing fire.   

5  
His cheerful looks, and merry face would prove,  
(If eyes the index be where thoughts are read)  
A dainty playfellow for naked love;  
Of all the other parts enough is said,  
That they were fit twins for so fair a head:  
Thousand boys for him, thousand maidens died,  
Dye they that list, for such his rigorous pride,  
He thousand boys (ah fool) and thousand maids denied.   

6  
His joy was not in music's sweet delight,  
(Though well his hand had learned that cunning art)  
Or dainty songs to daintier ears indite,  
But through the plain to chase the nimble Hart,  
With well-runed hounds; or with his certain dart,  
The tusked Boar, or savage Bear to wound;  
Mean time his heart with monsters doth abound,  
Ah fool to seek so far what nearer might be found!   

7  
His name (well known unto those Woody shades,  
Where unrewarded lovers oft complain them)  
Anchises was; Anchises oft the glades,  
And mountains heard Anchises had disdained them;  
Not all their love one gentle look had gained them,  
That rockey hills, with echoing noise consenting,  
Anchises plained; but he no whit relenting,  
(Harder than rocky hills) laughed at their vain lamenting.    

Cant. 2.  
The Argument.  

Diones Garden of delight,  
With wonder holds Anchises sight;  
While from the Bower such Music sounds,  
As all his senses near confounds.   

1  
ONe day it chanced as he the Deer pursued,  
Tired with sport, and faint with weary play,  
Fair Venus' grove not far away he viewed,  
Whose trembling leaves invite him there to stay,  
And in their shades his sweeting limbs display:  
There in the cooling glade he softly paces,  
And much delighted with their even spaces,  
What in himself he scorned, he praised their kind embraces:   

2  
The Wood with Paphian myrtles peopled,  
(Whose springing youth felt never Winters spiting)  
To laurels sweet were sweetly married,  
Doubling their pleasing smells in their uniting,  
When single much, much more when mixed delighting:  
No foot of beast durst touch this hallowed place,  
And many a boy that longed the woods to trace,  
Entered with fear, but soon turned back his frighted face.   

3  
The thicke-lockt bows shut out the tell-tale Sun,  
(For Venus hated his all blabbing light,  
Since her known fault which oft she wished undone)  
And scattered rays did make a doubtful fight,  
Like to the first of day, or last of night:  
The fittest light for Lover's gentle play;  
Such light best shows the wand'ring lovers way,  
And guides his erring hand: Night is love's holiday.   

4  
So far in this sweet Labyrinth he strayed,  
That now he views the Garden of delight;  
Whose breast, with thousand painted flowers arrayed,  
With diverse joy captived his wand'ring sight;  
But soon the eyes rendered the ears their right:  
For such strange harmony he seemed to hear,  
That all his senses flocked into his ear,  
And every faculty wished to be seated there.   

5  
From a close Bower this dainty Music flowed,  
A Bower apparelled round with diverse Roses  
Both red and white; which by their liveries showed  
Their Mistress fair, that there herself reposes:  
Seemed that would strive with those rare Music clozes,  
By spreading their fair bosoms to the light,  
Which the distracted sense should most delight;  
That, raps the melted ear; this, both the smell & sight.   

6  
The Boy 'twixt fearful hope, and wishing fear,  
Crept all along (for much he longed to see  
The Bower, much more the guest so lodged there)  
And as he goes, he marks how well ag●c●  
Nature and art in discord unity:  
Each striving who should best perform his part,  
Yet art now helping nature; nature art:  
While from his ears a voice thus stole his heart.   

7  
Fond men, whose wretched care the life soon ending,  
By striving to increase your joy, do spend it;  
And spending joy, yet find no joy in spending:  
You hurt your life by striving to amend it,  
And seeking to prolong it, soon end it:  
Than while fit time affords thee time and leisure,  
Enjoy while yet thou mayst thy lives sweet pleasure:  
Too foolish is the man that starves to feed his treasure:   

8  
Love is life's end (an end but never ending)  
All joys, all sweets, all happiness awarding:  
Love is life wealth (ne'er spent, but ever spending)  
More rich, by giving, taking by discarding:  
love's life's reward, rewarded in rewarding,  
Then from thy wretched heart fond care remove;  
Ah should thou live but once love's sweets to prove,  
Thou wilt not love to live, unless thou live to love.   

9  
To this sweet voice, a dainty music fitted  
Its well-tuned strings; and to her notes consorted:  
And while with skilful voice the song she dittied,  
The blabbing Echo had her words retorted;  
That now the Boy, beyond his soul transported,  
Through all his limbs feels run a pleasant shaking,  
And 'twixt a hope & fear suspects mistaking,  
And doubts he sleeping dreams, & broad awake fears waking.    

Cant. 3.  
The Argument.  

Fair Cythareas' limbs beheld,  
The straying Lads heart so enthralled:  
That in a Trance his melted spirit,  
Leaves th'senses slumbering in delight.   

1  
NOw to the Bower he sent his thievish eyes,  
To steal a happy sight; there do they find  
Fair Venus, that within half naked lies;  
And strait amazed (so glorious beauty shined)  
Would not return the message to the mind:  
But full of fear, and superstitious awe,  
Could not ●e●●e, or back their beams withdraw,  
So fixed on, too much seeing made they nothing saw.   

2  
Her goodly length, stretched on a Lilly-bed;  
(A bright foil of a beauty far more bright,)  
Few Roses round about were scattered,  
As if the Lilies learned to blush for spite,  
To see a skin much more than Lily-white:  
The bed sank with delight so to be pressed,  
And knew not which to think a chance more blessed,  
Both blessed so to kiss, and so again be kissed.   

3  
Her spacious forehead like the clearest Moon,  
Whose full-growne Orb begins now to be spent,  
Largely displayed in native silver shone,  
Giving wide room to beauty's Regiment,  
Which on the plain with love triumphing went:  
Her golden hair a rope of pearl embraced,  
Which with their dainty threads oft times enlaced,  
Made the eye think the pearl was there in gold inchased.   

4  
Her full large eye, in ietty-blacke arrayed,  
Proved beauty not confined to red and white,  
But oft herself in black more rich displayed;  
Both contraries did yet themselves unite,  
To make one beauty in different delight:  
A thousand loves sat playing in each eye,  
And smiling mirth kissing fair courtesy,  
By sweet persuasion won a bloodless victory.   

5  
The whitest white set by her silver cheek,  
Grew pale and wan like unto heavy lead:  
The freshest Purple fresher dyes must seek,  
That dares compare with them his fainting red:  
On these Cupio winged armies led,  
Of little loves, that with bold wanton train  
Under those colours, marching on the plain,  
Force every heart, and to low vassenlage constrain.   

6  
Her lips, most happy each in others kisses,  
From their so wished embracements seldom parted,  
Yet seemed to blush at such their wanton blisses;  
But when sweet words their joining sweet disparted,  
To th'ear a dainty music they imparted:  
Upon them fitly sat delightful smiling,  
A thousand souls with pleasing stealth beguiling:  
Ah that such shows of joys should be all joys exiling?   

7  
The breath came slowly thence, unwilling leaving  
So sweet a lodge, but when she once intended,  
To feast the air with words, the heart deceiving,  
More fast it thronged so to be expended;  
And at each word a hundred loves attended,  
Playing ith'breath, more sweet than is that firing,  
Where that Arabian only bird expiring,  
lives by her death, by loss of breath more fresh respiring.   

8  
Her chin, like to a stone in gold inchased,  
Seemed a fair i● well wrought with cunning hand,  
And being double, doubly the face graced.  
This goodly frame on her round neck did stand,  
Such p●ll●r, well such curious work sustained;  
And on his top the heavenly sphere up rearing,  
Might well present, with daintier appearing,  
A less but better Atlas, that fair heaven bearing.   

9  
Lower two breasts stand all their beauties bearing,  
Two breasts as smooth and soft; but ah alas!  
Their smoothest softness far exceeds comparing:  
Moore smooth and soft; but naught that ever was,  
Where they are first deserves the second place:  
Yet each as soft and each as smooth as other;  
And when thou first triest one & then the other,  
Each softer seems then each, & each then each seems smother.   

10  
Lowly between their dainty hemisphaeres,  
(Their hemisphaeres the heavenly Globes excelling,)  
A path, more white than is the name it bears,  
The lacteall path, conducts to the sweet dwelling,  
Where best delight all joys sits freely dealing;  
Where hundred sweets, and still fresh joys attending;  
Receive in giving, and still love dispending,  
Grow richer by their loss, and wealthy by expending.   

11  
But stay bold shepherd, here thy footing stay,  
Nor trust too much unto thy now-borne quill,  
As farther to those dainty limbs to stray;  
Or hope to paint that vale, or beauteous hill,  
Which past the finest hand and choicest skill:  
But were thy Verse and Song as finely framed,  
As are those parts, yet should it soon be blamed,  
For now the shameless world of best things is ashamed.   

12  
That cunning Artist, that old Greece admired,  
Thus far his Venus fitly portrayed;  
But there he left, nor farther ere as ited:  
His Daedale hand, that Nature perfected  
By art, felt art by nature limited.  
Ah! well he knew, though his fit hand could give  
Breath to dead colours, teaching marble live,  
Yet would these lively parts his hand of skill deprive.   

13  
Such when this gentle boy her closely viewed,  
Only with thinnest silken veil o'er-layd,  
Whose snowy colour much more snowy showed,  
By being next that skin; and all betrayed,  
Which best in naked beauties are arrayed:  
His spirits melted with so glorious sight,  
Ran from their work to see so splendent light,  
And left the fainting limbs sweet slumbering in delight.    

Cant. 4.  
The Argument.  

The swonding Swain recovered is  
By th'goddess; his soul rapting bliss:  
There mutuàll conference, and how  
Her service she doth him allow.   

1  
SOft-sleeping Venus waked with the fall,  
Looking behind, the sinking Boy espies,  
With all she starts, and wondereth withal,  
She thinks that there her fair Adonis dies,  
And more she thinks the more the Boy she eyes:  
So stepping nearer, up begins to rear him;  
And now with love himself she will confer him,  
And now, before her love himself she will prefer him:   

2  
The Lad soon with that dainty touch revived,  
Feeling himself so well, so sweetly seated,  
Begins to doubt whether he yet here lived,  
Or else his flitting soul to heaven translated,  
Was there in starry throne, and bliss instated:  
Oft would he dye, so to be often saved;  
And now with happy wish he closely craved,  
For ever to be dead, to be so sweet ingraued.   

3  
The Paphian Princess (in whose lovely breast,  
Spiteful disdain could never find a place)  
When now she saw him from his fit released,  
(To juno leaving wrath, and scolding base)  
Comforts the trembling Boy with smiling grace,  
But oh! those smiles (too full of sweet delight)  
Surfeit his heart, full of the former sight;  
So seeking to revive, more wounds his feeble spirit.   

4  
Tell me fair Boy (said she) what erring chance,  
Hither directed thy unwary pace:  
For sure contempt, or pride durst not advance  
Their foul aspect, in thy so pleasant face:  
Tell me, what brought thee to this hidden place?  
Or lack of love, or mutual answering fire,  
Or hindered by ill chance in thy desire:  
Tell me, what ist thy fair and wishing eyes require?   

5  
The Boy (whose sense was never yet acquainted  
With) such a music) stood with ears arected;  
And sweetly with that pleasant spell enchanted,  
More of those sugared strains long time expected,  
Till seeing she his speeches not rejected,  
First sighs arising from his hearts low centre,  
Thus 'gan reply; when each word bold would venture,  
And strive the first, that dainty labyrinth to enter,   

6  
Fair Cyprian Queen (for well that heavenly face)  
Proves thee the mother of all conquering love)  
Pardon I pray thee my unwitting pace,  
For no presumptuous thoughts did hither move  
My daring feet, to this thy holy Grove;  
But luckless chance (which if you not gainsay,  
I still must rue) hath caused me here to stray,  
And lose myself (alas) in losing of my way.   

7  
Nor did I come to right my wronged fire,  
Never till now I saw what ought be loved,  
And now I see, but never dare aspire  
To move my hope, where yet my love is moved;  
Whence though I would, I would it not removed:  
Only since I have placed my love so high,  
Which sure thou must, or sure thou wilt deny,  
Grant me yet still to love, though in my love to dye.   

8  
But she that in his eyes loves face had seen,  
And flaming heart, did not such suit disdain,  
(For cruelty fits not sweet beauty's Queen)  
But gently could his passion entertain,  
Though she loves Princess, he a lowly Swain:  
First of his bold intrusion she acquits him;  
Then to her service (happy Boy) admits him;  
And like another love, with Bow and quiver fits him.   

9  
And now withal the loves he grew acquainted,  
And Cupid's self, with his like face delighted,  
Taught him a hundred ways with which he daunted  
The prouder hearts, and wronged lovers righted,  
Forcing to love, that most his love despited.  
And now the practic Boy did so approve him,  
And with such grace and cunning art did move him,  
That all the pretty loves, and all the Graces love him.    

Cant. 5.  
The Argument.  

The Lover's sad despairing plaints,  
Bright Venus with his love acquaints;  
Sweetly importuned be doth show,  
From whom proceedeth this his woe.   

1  
YEt never durst his faint and coward heart,  
(Ah fool! faint heart fair Lady ne'er could win)  
Assail fair Venus with his new-learnt art,  
But kept hi● love, and burning flame within,  
Which more flamed out, the more he pressed it in:  
And thinkidg oft, how just she might disdain him;  
While some cool myrtle shade did entertain him,  
Thus sighing would be fit, & sadly would he plain him.   

2  
Ah fond, and hapless Boy! nor know I whether,  
More fond, or hapless more, that all so high  
Hast placed thy heart, where love and fate together,  
May never hope to end thy misery,  
Nor yet thyself dare wish a remedy.  
All hindrances (alas) conspire to let it;  
Ah fond, and hapless Boy! if canst not get it,  
In thinking to forget, at length learn to forget it.   

3  
Ah far too fond, but much more hapless Swain!  
Seeing thy love can be forgotten never.  
Serve and observe thy love with willing pain;  
And though in vain thy love thou do persever,  
Yet all in vain do thou adore her ever.  
No hope can crown thy thoughts so far aspiring,  
Nor dares thyself desire thine own desiring,  
Yet live thou in her love, and dye in her admiring.   

4  
Thus oft the hopeless Boy complaining lies;  
But she that well could guess his sad lamenting,  
(Who can conceal love from love's mothers eyes?)  
Did not disdain to give his love contenting:  
Cruel the soul, that feeds on souls tormenting:  
Nor did she scorn him though not nobly borne,  
(Love is nobility) nor could she scorn,  
That with so noble skill her title did adorn.   

5  
One day it chanced, thrice happy day and chance!  
While loves were with the Graces sweetly sporting,  
And to fresh music sounding play and dance;  
And Cupid's self with Shepherd's boys consorting,  
Laughed at their pretty sport, and simple courting:  
Fair Venus seats the fearful Boy close by her,  
Where never Phoebus jealous looks might eye her,  
And bids the Boy his Mistress, and her name descry her.   

6  
Long time the youth bound up in silence stood,  
While hope and fear with hundred thoughts begun,  
Fit Prologue to his speech; and fearful blood  
From heart and face, with these post-tydings run,  
That either now he's made, or now undone:  
At length his trembling words, with fear made weak,  
Began his too long silence thus to break,  
While from his humble eyes first reverence seemed to speak.   

7  
Fair Queen of Love, my life thou mayst command,  
Too slender price for all thy former grace,  
Which I receive at thy so bounteous hand;  
But never dare I speak her name and face;  
My life is much lesse-prized than her disgrace:  
And, for I know if I her name relate,  
I purchase anger, I must hide her state,  
Unless thou swear by styx I purchase not her hate.   

8  
Fair Venus well perceived his subtle shift,  
And swearing gentle patience, gently smiled:  
While thus the Boy pursued his former drift:  
No tongue was ever yet so sweetly skilled,  
Nor greatest Orator so highly styled;  
Though helped withal the choicest arts direction,  
But when he durst describe her heaven's perfection,  
By his imperfect praise, dispraised his imperfection.   

9  
Her form is as herself, perfect Caelestriall,  
No mortal spot her heavenly frame disgraces:  
Beyond compare; such nothing is terrestrial;  
More sweet than thought or powerful wish embraces,  
The map of heaven; the sum of all the Graces.  
But if you wish more truly limbed to eye her,  
Than fainting speech, or words can well descry her,  
Look in a glass, & there more perfect you may spy her.    

Cant. 6.  
The Argument.  

The Boys short wish, her larger grant,  
That doth his soul with bliss enchant:  
Whereof impatient uttering all,  
Enraged jove contrives his thrall.   

1  
THy crafty art (replied the smiling Queen)  
Hath well my chiding, and not rage prevented,  
Yet mightst thou think, that yet 'twas never seen.  
That angry rage, and gentle love consented:  
But if to me thy true love is presented,  
What wages for thy service must I owe thee?  
For by the self same vow, I here avow thee,  
What ever thou require, I frankly will allow thee.   

2  
Pardon (replies the Boy) for so affecting,  
Beyond mortality; and not discarding,  
Thy service was much more than my expecting;  
But if thou (more thy bounty-hood regarding)  
Will't needs heap up reward upon rewarding;  
Thy love I dare not ask, or mutual fixing,  
One kiss is all my love, and prides aspiring,  
And after starve my heart, for my too much desiring.   

3  
Fond Boy! (said she) too fond that asked no more;  
Thy want by taking is no whit decreased,  
And giving, spends not our increasing store:  
Thus with a kiss, his lips she sweetly pressed;  
Most blessed kiss; but hope more than most blessed,  
The Boy did think heaven fell while thus he joyed;  
And while joy he so greedily enjoyed,  
He felt not half his joy by being overjoyed.   

4  
Why sighest fair Boy? (said she) dost thou repent thee  
Thy narrow wish in such strait bonds to stay?  
Well may I sigh (said he) and well lament me,  
That never such a debt may hope to pay:  
A kiss (said she) a kiss will back repay:  
Wilt thou (replied the Boy too much delighted)  
Content thee, with such pay to be requited?  
She grants; & he his lips, heart, soul, to payment cited.   

5  
Look as a Ward, long from his Lands detained,  
And subject to his Guardians cruel lore,  
Now spends the more, the more he was restrained,  
So he; yet though in laying out his store,  
He doubly takes; yet finds himself grow poor:  
With that, he marks, and tells her out a score,  
And doubles them, and trebles all before:  
Fond Boy! the more thou payest, thy debt still grows the more.   

6  
At length, whether these favours so had fired him,  
With kindly heat, inflaming his desiring;  
Or whether those sweet kisses had inspired him;  
He thinks that some thing wants for his requiring;  
And still aspires, yet knows not his aspiring:  
But yet though that he knoweth, so she gave,  
That he presents himself her bounden slave;  
Still his more wishing face seemed some what else to crave.   

7  
And boldened with success and many graces,  
His hand, chained up in fear, he now released:  
And ask leave, couraged with her embraces;  
Again it prisoned in her tender breast;  
Ah blessed prison! prisoners too much blest!  
There with those sister's long time doth he play;  
And now full boldly enters love's high way;  
While down the pleasant vale, his creeping hand doth stray.   

8  
She not displeased with this his wanton play,  
Hiding his blushing with a sugared kiss;  
With such sweet heat his rudeness doth allay,  
That now he perfect knows what ever bliss,  
Elder love taught, and he before did miss:  
That moult with joy, in such untried joys trying,  
He gladly dies; and death new life applying,  
Gladly again he dies, that oft he may be dying.   

9  
Long thus he lived, slumbering in sweet delight,  
Free from sad care, and fickle world's annoy;  
Bathing in liquid joys his melted spirit;  
And longer might, but he (ah foolish Boy!)  
Too proud, and to impatient of his joy,  
To woods, and heaven, and earth his bliss imparted;  
That jove upon him down his thunder darted,  
Blasting his splendent face, and all his beauty swarted.   

10  
Such be his chance, that to his love doth wrong,  
Unworthy he to have so worthy place,  
That cannot hold his peace and blabbing tongue  
Light joys float on his lips, but rightly grace  
Sinks deep, and th'hearts low centre doth embrace:  
Might I enjoy my love till I unfold it,  
I'd lose all favours when I blabbing told it:  
He is not fit for love, that is not fit to hold it.    
FINIS.