Michael Drayton
Born
in Hartshill, Warwickshire, England
December 24, 1562
Died
December 23, 1631
Website
Genre
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Nymphidia or The Court of Faery
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Idea: Elizabethan Sonnet Cycle
by
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published
1592
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16 editions
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Since There's No Help
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The Battaile of Agincourt
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published
2009
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55 editions
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Minor Poems of Michael Drayton
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published
1907
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85 editions
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The Complete Works Of Michael Drayton #2
by
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published
2001
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24 editions
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Collected Poetical Works
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published
2015
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2 editions
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Elizabethan Sonnet Cycles
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published
2005
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5 editions
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Elizabethan Sonnet-Cycles: Idea, Fidessa and Chloris
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Poly-Olbion: A Chronologic Description of Great Britain (Spencer Soc. : Nos. 1-3)
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published
1966
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2 editions
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“Since there's no help, come, let us kiss and part,
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over,
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.
- Sonnet LXI”
― Idea: Elizabethan Sonnet Cycle
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me,
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.
Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes,
Now, if thou wouldst, when all have giv'n him over,
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover.
- Sonnet LXI”
― Idea: Elizabethan Sonnet Cycle
“Bright Star Of Beauty
Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit
A thousand nymph-like and enamour'd Graces,
The Goddesses of Memory and Wit,
Which there in order take their several places;
In whose dear bosom sweet delicious Love
Lays down his quiver, which he once did bear,
Since he that blessed Paradise did prove,
And leaves his mother's lap to sport him there.
Let others strive to entertain with words;
My soul is of a braver metal made;
I hold that vile which vulgar wit affords;
In me's that faith which Time cannot invade.
Let what I praise be still made good by you;
Be you most worthy, whilst I am most true”
―
Bright star of beauty, on whose eyelids sit
A thousand nymph-like and enamour'd Graces,
The Goddesses of Memory and Wit,
Which there in order take their several places;
In whose dear bosom sweet delicious Love
Lays down his quiver, which he once did bear,
Since he that blessed Paradise did prove,
And leaves his mother's lap to sport him there.
Let others strive to entertain with words;
My soul is of a braver metal made;
I hold that vile which vulgar wit affords;
In me's that faith which Time cannot invade.
Let what I praise be still made good by you;
Be you most worthy, whilst I am most true”
―
Topics Mentioning This Author
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