1Once in my garden as alone I lay,
2Some solitary hours to pass away,
3My flowers most fair and fresh within my view,
4New diamoned
, watered o’er with Aurora’s
dew— 5Their names in order I ere
long will mention— 6There happened amongst them this contention:
7Which of them did their fellows all excel
8In virtue
, color, beauty, fashion, smell; 9And me they chose for umpire in this play.
10Then up I rose, sad thoughts I laid away,
11And unto them I instantly replied
12That this their controversy I’d decide,
13So
they would stand to my arbitrament
. 14They, smiling, answered they were all content.
15I gave them leave their virtues to declare
16That I the better might their worth compare.
17And now I humbly do implore the aid
18Of that most debonair
, delicious
maid, 19Lovely Erato
, crowned with fragrant flowers, 20Who with her virgin sisters spend their hours
21By clear Pereus
, crystal Hippocrene
, 22Sweet Helicon or Tempe’s flowery green
: 23Fair Thespian
ladies, all I ask of you, 24Is that I give to every flower her due.
The Woodbine
25First spoke the Double Woodbine
wondrous fair, 26Whose aromatic breath perfumed the air,
27Saying: “I am confident all that can smell
28Or see will say that I the rest excel.
29Why am I placed else ’bout princely bowers
, 30Shading their arbors
and their stately towers? 31I did about Idalia’s
arbor grow, 32Her bower of love, when youthful blood did flow
33In old Anchises’s
veins; there he did rest 34His rosy cheeks upon her lily breast,
35Whose love produced the happy Julian race
. 36Therefore (of all) give me the chiefest place.
37Oft hath Diana
underneath my shade 38To enrich some fountain her unready made
, 39Disclosing then to my admiring eye
40Those beauties which whoso doth pry
41Into, let him—O let him—still beware,
42Lest in Actaeon’s punishment
he share. 43Do but observe the Amazonian bee
44Come to this garden: she no flower
can see 45That can with mel
and nectar her supply; 46My cornucopia
doth her satisfy. 47Then of precedency I need not doubt,
48’Cause I perfume your going in and out
.” The Tulip
49The Tulip to the Woodbine then replied:
50“I am amazed at thy infinite pride.
51Dost thou presume, or canst thou once suppose,
52To lead impartial Justice by the nose
? 53Because thou yieldest a pleasant spicy smell,
54Therefore all other flowers thou must excel?
55What though thy limber
, dangling flowers hover, 56Hiding some wanton and her wanton lover—
57Though Venus and her paramour it be?
58A maquerella be, alone; for me
, 59I scorn that office
as I do thy pride. 60Yet am I in a thousand colors dyed,
61And though my seed be sown a hundred year
62Yet still in newer colors I appear
; 63And if of other flowers there were none,
64A garden might be made of me alone,
65And Flora’s mantle
might embroidered be, 66As rich as now it is, by none but me.
67That glorious king that had what’s heart desired
68Was never in his throne so rich attired
69As I, nor in such various colors dressed;
70Therefore I well may queen be of the rest.
71The Turkish turbans
do enlarge our fames, 72And we are honored by a thousand names
73Which would vainglory be here to rehearse,
74Seeing they are known throughout the universe.
75Besides my beauty, I have virtue store
; 76My roots decayed nature doth restore
. 77Then let another speak that can say more.”
The Wallflower or Heartsease
78“Then,” said the Wallflower, “Neither show nor smell
79(By my content)
but virtue bears the bell
; 80For certainly, if sweetness bore the sway
, 81Then am I sure to bear the prize away.
82If show, my flowers are stately to behold:
83Some red, some white, and some like burnished gold.
84But if you’ll give to virtue all her due,
85My worth doth far excel my golden hue.
86Such rare inherent virtue doth inherit
87Within my smell, by cheering of men’s spirit,
88All turbulent passions I am known to appease,
89My vulgar nomination
being “Heartsease.”
90Besides, I do not for a fit
appear, 91As doth the Tulip, but I all the year
92Perfume the air, to gardens add such grace
93That I without presumption may take place
94Above the rest (though not like tulips painted
). 95For beauty never yet made woman sainted;
96’Tis virtue doth immortalize their name,
97And makes an aromatic, splendent
fame. 98About this orb
her
numerous names she rings; 99So may Euphrates
boast her thousand springs. 100Whilst Nile’s head is occult
, one only name 101She glories in; yet of emergent fame
102She
, vaporing
, brags that she is stuck about 103The wretched turban of the pagan rout
. 104Such honor as dishonor I should scorn,
105And rather choose as I am to be worn
106Upon some lovely modest virgin’s breast,
107Where all the Graces
do triumphant rest.” The Lily
108The Lily smiled and said she did admire
109The Wallflower’s boldness and her bold desire.
110“Because she breathes a suffocating fume,
111Must she (O strange!) above the rest presume?
112I am amazéd that
her arrogance, 113Proceeding from her sordid ignorance
114Of others’ worth, makes her extol her own;
115For noble virtues, trust me, she has none.
116Her color doth proclaim her jealousy
, 117But I’m an emblem of pure inno’cy
. 118Spotless
my thoughts, as spotless are my leaves, 119While Chastity
her lover ne’er deceives; 120And what, I wonder, were a virgin’s due,
121Had not her skin my lily’s lily hue?
122Even as
the Woodbine wittily expressed 123When she compared me to Idalia’s breast.
124White are my leaves, as Albion’s snowy cliff
, 125Or higher Alps, or highest Tenerife
; 126White as the swans on sweet Hibernia’s streams
, 127Or Cynthia’s bright, or Delius’s brighter beams
. 128For white all other colors doth excel
129As much as day doth night, or Heaven doth Hell.
130For it is chiefly Heaven’s privation
131Makes men in a hell of desperation.
132What are the horrid gloomy shades of night
133But the departure of all-quick’ning
light? 134And what are colors? Reason says, not I,
135Nothing but want of my white purity
. 136I here could brag, but will not, of the feast
137The Persians make
: this honors me the least 138Of all the rest
. Of virtues I may boast, 139For if my roots they do but boil or roast,
140And them to pestilential
sores apply, 141Probatum est
: it cures them instantly. 142But my antagonist here of the wall
143In such a time’s away thrown, flowers and all.”
The Rose
144At this, the blood flushed in the Rose’s face
145To hear the Lily speak in her
disgrace. 146As she then said, “Whose pride was grown so high
147That she presumes to boast virginity,
148Though scorned by all? Daring to show her face
149And plead precedency (and I in place)
, 150When in each lovely maid and Chloris’s
cheek 151I conquer her? Her leaves I know are sleek,
152And so are mine! She brags on such a fashion
153As if light, virtue, joy, were but privation
, 154As if an unwrit volume were the best,
155Before Heaven’s love were in the leaves expressed.
156I’m slighted
now, but in the former age 157I consecrated was to epic’rage
; 158When Liber Pater’s
wine and wit o’erflows, 159None dares to speak but underneath the rose
. 160And certainly my flowers were in request
161When those heroic houses
in their crest 162Did stick my rose: York gloried in the white;
163Great Lancaster did in the red delight.
164But as my fame, so it increased my woe
165To see our fields with princely blood o’erflow.
166Nay more, the Orient kingdoms to my praise
167In honor of my birth keep fourteen days
, 168And in Damascus yearly they distill
169As much rosewater as will drive a mill
. 170Do but observe when as the virgin crew
171Comes to this garden (newly pearled with dew)
172To make their anadems
: they fill their laps 173With other flowers; betwixt their snowy paps
174I am triumphant. On that ivory throne
175I sit envied of all, usurped of none.
176Sometime I slide into that milky vale
177Between those snowy hills called Cupid’s dale.
178There freely I those living cherries kiss;
179Lilies look pale in envy of my bliss.
180Then seeing I of all am most in grace
181With your sweet sex, give me the chiefest place.
182Here, if list
to boast my heavenly birth, 183I could declare not
sprung from dunghill earth 184As Aborigines
; I and the fruitful rice, 185To enrich mankind, dropped down from paradise
. 186Witness the Alcoran
, where also, ’tis said, 187By smelling to a rose that blessed maid
188Brought forth a son, a wonder to rehearse
, 189The sole restorer of the universe.
190Look at those nuptials where you may behold
191The stately structure shine with burnished gold,
192The gorgeous chamber and the bride ale bread
193With roses and no other flowers is spread;
194And still-enjoying
lovers’ youthful brows 195Are with my roses crowned and myrtle boughs.
196Observe the rising luster of the morn,
197How she with roses doth her head adorn:
198Above the rest I’m honored by Aurora
199And by my patroness, fair lovely Flora.
200I’m so much favored that no flower but I
201Between her snowy breasts doth dare to lie.
202Besides the beauty and the sweet delight,
203My flowers yield my virtues
infinite. 204I cool, I purge, I comfort, and restore;
205Then who, I wonder, can desire more?
206If for the worthiest you the prize reserve,
207The chiefest place I’m sure I do deserve.
The Poppy
208The gaudy Poppy lift
her head aloft, 209Saying in earnest, “I have wondered oft
210To see the rose so filled with pride and scorn,
211As if an orient tincture
did adorn 212No cheek but hers, because she’s always worn
213(O how I loath’t
) betwixt the sweaty paps! 214Or else she’s thrust into the dirty laps
215Of wanton flirts! Better outshine the day
216As I do, and my beauty to display
217Unto the gazing, wond’ring passerby,
218Who stands amazed at my variety.
219She brags the Cyprian lady
loves her best, 220But did she ever give a goddess rest
, 221As I have done? When overwatched
with grief 222Great Ceres
was, by sleep I gave relief 223Unto her tired spirit when she ran after
224That black-browed
knave that stole away her daughter
. 225If she of color boast, then so may I:
226What flowers at distance more delights the eye?
227And where she brags of ushering in Aurora,
228And dressing of the head of dainty Flora,
229’Tis true I do not tend upon the morn,
230Yet do I Chloris’s youthful robe adorn
231As well as she; and when Night, silent queen,
232Triumphant in her ebon
coach, is seen, 233I strew her paths as she doth conquering ride
. 234What flower, I wonder, dares do so beside?
235And when in soft and downy arms
236She
lullabies the world with potent charms, 237The vapor of my flowers doth slyly creep
238To troubled mortals, causing them to sleep.
239I would our arbitratrix
would but take 240My flowers or seed: I’m confident ’twould make
241Her sleep and rest and dreams by far more quiet
242Than Paracelsus’s rules
or Lessius’s diet
. 243Nay, more: more seeds one of my poppies bear
244Than in a hundred gardens roses are!
245I can but laugh at that ridiculous dream
246Of springing from that grand impostor’s steam
! 247Such fopperies
I credit shall as soon 248As that he hollowed down the splendent Moon
. 249O me, what solifidian
can believe 250That he
should put one half into his sleeve, 251The other made a zone for Mortis Ali
? 252Thus with their faith these miscreants
do dally! 253Then, I conclude, she virtue wants or fame
, 254Boasting of that which I should count my shame.
255Let me and mine rise from the new-plowed earth
256While she proclaims her excrementous
birth.” The Violet
257The bashful violet then her head upheaves,
258She being veiled o’er before with leaves.
259Then, sighing forth a cool and sweet perfume,
260She said the Poppy did too much presume;
261Then, trickling down a tear, “Ah me,” she said,
262“I well remember when I was a maid,
263My beauty did a deity inflame
; 264And must I now (O strange!) contend for fame
? 265Let me not breathe; her
pride doth me confound. 266I was a lady once, for beauty crowned,
267Till Delia
did unloose my virgin zone
; 268Since when, in silent shades I make my moan;
269Yet sure for shame my face I need not cover.
270Who would not glory in so brave a lover?
271And in our umpire’s love I well may rest,
272She using oft to wear me in her breast;
273But as for you
, you ne’er attained that grace 274Her
to adorn, or in her house had place, 275For none her
loathsome savor can abide, 276Unless by her they would be stupefied
. 277Were here not others of more worth than she,
278I need not strive: the prize would fall to me.
279Nocturna
favors her, she doth pretend; 280And must she therefore all the rest transcend?
281That old deforméd, purblind slut
wants sight 282To judge of beauty, or at least wants light.
283But I perfume the air with fair Aurora,
284And grace the paps and robes of lovely Flora.
285She
tells long stories of the ravished queen 286Of Erebus
; in this her pride is seen. 287I wonder at her arrogance and madness,
288To dream of curing our decider’s
sadness, 289When her sad heart’s so overcharged with grief
290That physic’s
art can give her no relief. 291For I have heard her often, sighing, say
292Nothing would ease her but her dying day;
293Nothing would cure her till the dead did rise
294In glory; then and not before, her eyes
295Would cease for sin and sorrow to o’erflow.
296But after her my passion must not go
. 297Although I am not like the poppy pied
, 298Yet is my vest in princely purple dyed,
299And in those colors that adorn the sky,
300Than which none is more pleasing to the eye.
301In sickness and in health I am respected;
302Then let me not (for shame) be now neglected.
303The Poppy says she rocks the world asleep,
304And, bragging, such a racket she doth keep
305That she forgets (I am afraid) the duty
306That all do vow to virtue and to beauty.
The Heliotrope
307The Heliotropium
then began to vapor
, 308Saying, “I vow, by yonder blazing taper
309Which gives to all both light and influence,
310I am confounded at her
impudence!” 311Then, staring on the sun, “Behold,” she said,
312“To view his fulgent
face I’m not afraid; 313When he in pride and splendor doth arise,
314Unto the orient
I throw my eyes; 315And as he mounts up the Olympic hill
, 316With amorous glances I pursue him still;
317And when he’s zenith
, I, as ’tis my duty, 318Am fixed admiring his refulgent
beauty; 319But when he doth descend to Tethyss’s
deep, 320To part with him in golden tears I weep;
321But she (poor girl), an unregarded flower,
322To view his radiant face hath not the power;
323But in some silent, sad, neglected shades
324She (despicable she) buds, blooms, and fades,
325Whilst I unto the wondering world display
326My beauty, creating either night or day;
327When I contract my leaves, my love
his light, 328Then all this globe’s involved in horrid night;
329But when we do our golden curls unfold,
330All are exhilarated to behold
331Our love and light. I wonder she should dare
332With Phœbus’s
famous favorite to compare. 333Most foolishly she vaunts her birth is high,
334And that her robes are dipped in Tyrian dye
; 335When as the vesture
which my limbs unfold 336Are youthful green, fringéd with burnished gold.
337She brags the female sex esteem her best
338And that she sits triumphant on their breast.
339A rush
I care not for that scornful crew, 340For did I grow as far above their view
341As from their reach, trust me, I should rejoice;
342For brave Hyperion
is my soul’s sole choice. 343She says my love her ceston
did untie 344But now he scorns on her to cast an eye,
345’Cause enviously she made Leucothoe die
346E’er since he hath refused her wanton bed,
347Since when, ashamed, she hides her guilty head.
348She vaunts that she perfumes the breath of Flora;
349Some dress the golden tresses of Aurora;
350Some of the goddesses tells tedious stories,
351And fondly
think to shine by others’ glories; 352Some of the Eleusian lady
wonders tell, 353And others fetch Persephone from Hell;
354Some of fair Erycina’s
favor brag, 355And Acheron’s wife
with antic
black-browed
hag; 356Thus they for trophies rake
Hell and night 357Whilst I stand glorying in the God of Light.
The Auricula
358The Auricula, in brave Thaumantias’s hue
, 359Whose shadowed robes were diamoned o’er with dew,
360From her bright eyes let fall a shower of tears
361Which hung like pendant pearls about her ears;
362Then, shaking of her head, she said, “Alas!
363Why do I live to see this come to pass?
364Why did the impartial Parcae
twist my thread? 365Why from the chaos did I lift my head?
366Were’t not for the inevitable laws
367Of destiny, I would shrink into my cause
, 368And rather make it my choice to be nighted
369Eternally, than live to be thus slighted.
370Nay, I had rather choose annihilation
371Then hear the Flos Solis’s
ostentation! 372Here’s many gallant
flowers conscious be 373Of their own wants
, which silent stand (you see) 374And yet have infinitely more worth than she!
375Yet we must all stand mute to hear her prattle:
376Dear heart! How my ears tingle with her tattle
. The Flower-De-Luce
377The Caledonian Iris
then addressed 378Herself to speak, being chosen by the rest,
379And said, “I would this trial were in France,
380For there my favorites I could all advance;
381For in the king’s paternal coat
I’m borne, 382And, being transplanted, my brave flowers adorn
383And luster add to the imperial race
: 384England, Navarre, Piedmont
my flowers grace. 385The Caledonian lion
is protected 386By me alone; must I then be neglected?
387What doth avail that I from Heaven came down
388To stick my flower-de-luces in the crown
389Of famous Clodoneus
? If I must 390Give place to these
, then let me turn to dust! 391For trust me, I had rather be calcined
392Than live and be by mountaineers
outshined. 393What boots it me
that all the world doth know 394My princely vesture’s like the heavenly bow
, 395Great Juno’s legate
, on whose shining breast 396Heaven’s love in dewy character’s expressed?
397What doth’t
advantage me to bear her
name, 398If I with such as these
must strive for fame
? 399What gain I that my roots a choice perfume
, 400If flowers of base extraction
thus presume, 401And enviously my glory thus impede,
402And so audaciously before me plead?
403I have hitherto triumphed, and must I now,
404Flora defend
, to meaner
beauties bow? 405She from the Alps
, and I from heaven descended; 406If she prevails, she’s infinitely befriended
. 407Do but behold my strange variety:
408Sometimes my robes are like the azure
sky; 409Then I in purple my fair limbs enfold;
410Then richly wrought with silver, black, and gold:
411Nay, more: the tears which trickle down my face
412(Or Pliny
lies) doth propagate my race
. 413If those whose beauty do the rest outshine
414Triumphant be, the prize is only mine.
The Gillyflower
415The admired Gillyflower did sweetly smile,
416Saying, “I have been silent all this while,
417Not doubting others would extol my beauty,
418But find contempt where I expected duty.
419Trust me, I wonder such high thoughts should soar
420In vulgar
brains not copious
enough t’explore 421The worth of those whom all that know adore;
422Yet base detracting ways of pride I scorn
423With others’ vice my virtue to adorn.
424Ladies, refuse me, if I vilipend
425The simplest simple
, that I may transcend
; 426Nor never let me your fair breast adorn,
427But (which I so abhor) let me be worn
428By base plebeians
and the Hydrian crew
: 429Nor never let Aurora’s pearly dew
430Like gems bestud my robes at her arise,
431For which I breathe an early sacrifice
432Of aromatic odors which perfume
433The ambient air; nor let no flower presume
434Above her sphere, nor yet her place surrender:
435My luster is not darkened by their splendor.
436Like as th’illustrious globe, the sun,
437Gives leave to other orbs their course to run,
438Whilst they incessantly still trundle round
439The vast circumference of his glorious mound,
440They following each his own intelligence,
441Whilst he to all gives light, life, influence:
442So may each flower in her pride appear
443And with their various beauties grace the year.
444I not deny
they may our queen
attend 445As well as I; yet I them all transcend.
446Did I but doubt
our arbitress
would deal 447Injuriously
, to Chloris I would appeal; 448But obvious ’tis within her
constant breast 449Lovely Astraea
doth triumphant rest. 450To her I’ll yield then: let her freely judge;
451At her decision, trust me, I’ll not grudge.
452Let her but mark my sweet variety,
453Which satisfies without satiety
: 454Sometimes my robes are like the gentianella
; 455Then I am paler like the asphodel
; 456Sometimes my curious fancy
takes delight 457To mix their azure with the lily’s white;
458Oft times in purple I myself attire;
459Then scarlet, pink, and peach are my desire.
460Thus every color in my leaves are mixed.
461Nature such beauty in my flowers hath fixed
462That all to wear my flowers take delight;
463I cheer the spirits and refresh the sight.
464Nay, did I not to sadness give relief,
465She that decides our strife had failed with grief.
466Then judge if I am not of ample
fame 467When sects, mounts, cities, kingdoms, bear my name
. 468Now, having spoke
, no favor I implore: 469Let any flower speak that can say more.
The Adonis
470Then young Adonis
lapped
his robe about him 471And said he hoped they’d choose no chief without him:
472“For had I kept my shape as well as name,
473Then had I not stood here to plead for fame!
474Fool that I was, had I not been so coy,
475I had been still fair Aphrodite her
joy. 476Great Juno’s son
grew jealous and enraged 477To see his love to me alone engaged;
478But I, a foolish proud and scornful boy,
479What others longed for, I esteemed a toy.
480Oft have we lay in the Idalian shade,
481Where curious anadems my goddess made,
482Twirling with her white fingers myrtle boughs
483Being woven with roses to adorn our brows
484Of
red and white; the yellow we threw by, 485’Cause perfect love should be sans
jealousy
. 486Sometimes she would sweetly tell me ancient stories,
487Still mixing them with her transcendent glories
488Of the transforming to some beast or flower
489For their contemning
of her love or power; 490But I her courtship and her counsel slighted
491With hunting cruel beasts I was delighted;
492But (O, my fate) chasing the hideous boar,
493He turned and with his tusks my entrails tore,
494Which my fair love
did infinitely deplore
. 495The mixture of my blood, her brackish
tears, 496And the influence of her eye my flower uprears
. 497When she perceived that from my blood it sprung,
498This scarlet mantle
she about me flung, 499Saying, ‘My love, this vesture
were for me, 500And I between my breasts will still wear thee.’
501Thus am I proud to triumph on that throne
502Which once I scorned
, and certainly ther’re none 503But envies me, now in my second story
, 504Though infinitely more in my first glory.
505Thus was I metamorphized to a flower
506By that enamored lovely lady’s power;
507And happy ’tis that in a plant I shine:
508Others, enslaved to her, their shapes resign
509To loathsome beasts, as wise Ulysses’s friends
510By Circe’s sorceries
. Then, seeing I delighted 511Fair Erycina, let me not be slighted.
512More I could say to magnify my fame:
513In Palestine’s a river of my name
, 514Which at my annual feast to blood doth turn;
515Those crystal waves for me in purple mourn.
516There by the lapséd Jews I am adored
, 517And under Thammuz’s name I am deplored.
518Then will I not prejudicate
your piety; 519I am sure all here will yield unto a deity.”
520Now
, seeing the motion of the sun or earth 521Doth end the day as it began its birth,
522We’ll (if you please) prorogue
this parliament. 523They bowed their grateful heads and gave consent.
524And when Aurora lends to us more light,
525I will return; till then, to all good night.