Worthless are the prayers I make;
Yet for thy sweet mercy's sake,
Save me from the fiery lake.
Separate from the accursed band,
Fold me with the sheep that stand,
Pure and safe, at thy right hand.
When the lost, to silence driven,
To devouring flames are given,
Call me with the blest to Heaven.
*The above translation has been formed from several sources.
Mr. Williams's translation has supplied one or two of the best stanzas; though, as a whole, it entirely fails to represent the force and pathos of the original, which may, indeed be considered absolutely untranslatable.
EXTRACTS FROM THE FAERIE QUEENE..
A GENTLE knight was pricking on the plaine,
Ycladd in mightie arms and silver shielde,
Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine,
The cruel markes of many a bloody fielde;
Yet armes till that time did he never wield:
His angry steede did chide his foaming bit,
As much disdayning to the curbe to yield:
Full iolly knight he seemd, and faire did sitt,
As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt.
And on his brest a bloodie crosse he bore,
The deare remembrance of his dying Lord,
For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore,
And dead (as living) ever him adored;
Upon his shield the like was also scored,
For soveraine hope, which in his helpe he had.
Right faithfull true he was in deede and word;
But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad;
Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.
• The difference between the ancient and modern form of spelling will afford a useful exercise in orthography.
A lovely ladie rode him faire beside,
Upon a lowly asse, more white than snow;
Yet she much whiter; but the same did hide
Under a vele, that wimpled was full low;
And over all a blacke stole shee did throw:
As one that inly mournd, so was she sad,
And heavie sate upon her palfrey slow;
Seemed in her heart some hidden care she had;
And by her in a line a milke-white lambe she lad.
The day with cloudes was suddeine overcast,
And angry Iove an hideous storme of raine
Did poure into his leman's lap so fast,
That everie wight to shroud it did constrain;
And this faire couple eke to shroud themselves were fain.
Enforst to seek some covert nigh at hand,
A shadie grove not farr away they spide,
That promist ayde the tempest to withstand;
Whose loftie trees, yclad with sommers pride,
Did spred so broad, that Heavens light did hide,
Not piercable with power of any starr:
And all within were pathes and alleies wide,
With footing worne, and leading inward farr:
Faire harbour that them seems; so in they entered are.
And foorth they passe, with pleasure forward led
Toying to heare the birds sweete harmony,
Which, therein shrouded from the tempest dred,
Seemed in their song to scorn the cruell sky.
This wize did they each other entertaine
To passe the tedious travell of the way;
Till towards night they came unto a plaine,
By which a little hermitage there lay,
Far from all neighbourhood, the which annoy
And nigh thereto a little chappel stoode,
Which being all with yvy overspred,
Deckt all the roofe, and, shadowing the roode,d
Seemed like a grove fair braunched over hed:
Therein the hermite, which his life here led
In streight observaunce of religious vow,
Was wont his howres and holy things to bed;
And therein he likewise was praying now,
Whenas these knights arrived, they wist not where nor how.
They stayd not there, but streightway in did pas:
Whom when the hermite present saw in place,
From his devotion streight he troubled was;
Which breaking off he toward them did pace
With stayed steps and grave beseeming grace:
For well it seemed that whilome he had beene
Some goodly person, and of gentle race,
That could his good to all; and well did weene
How each to entertaine with curt'sie well beseene :
And soothly it was sayd by common fame,
So long as age enabled him thereto,
That he had bene a man of mickle name,
Renowned much in armes and derring doe:
But being aged now, and weary to
Of warres delight and worlds contentious toyle,
The name of knighthood he did disavow ;
And, hanging up his armes and warlike spoyle,
From all this world's incumbrance did himself assoyle.
He thence them led into his hermitage,
Letting their steedes to graze upon the greene:
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