A Charm for a Mad Woman

O heavenly med'cine, panacea high,
Restore this raging woman to her health,
More worth than hugest sums of worldly wealth,
Exceedingly more worth than any wealth.
O light of grace and reason from the sky,
Illuminate her mad-conceited mind,
And melancholy cease her wits to blind,
Cease, fearful melancholy, her wits to blind.

poem by Gabriel Harvey
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Gorgon or the Wonderful Year

|S+t+| Fame dispos'd to cunnycatch the world,
Vproar'd a wonderment of Eighty Eight:
The Earth addreading to be ouerwhurld,
What now auailes, quoth She, my ballance weight ?
The Circle smyl'd to see the Center feare :
The wonder was, no wonder fell that yeare.

Wonders enhaunse their powre in numbers odd:
The fatall yeare of yeares is Ninety Three :
Parma hath kist; De-maine entreates the rodd:
Warre wondreth, Peace and Spaine in Fraunce to see.
Braue Eckenberg, the dowty Bassa shames :
The Christian Neptune, Turkish Vulcane tames.

Nauarre wooes Roome: Charlmaine giues Guise the Phy:
Weepe Powles, thy Tamberlaine voutsafes to dye.

L'enuoy.
The hugest miracle remaines behinde ,

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poem by Gabriel Harvey
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The Writers Postscript: or a Frendly Caueat to the Second Shakerley of Powles

Slumbring I lay in melancholy bed,
Before the dawning of the sanguin light:
When Eccho Shrill, or some Familiar Spright
Buzzed an Epitaph into my hed.
Magnifique Mindes, bred of Gargantuas race,
In grisly weedes His Obsequies waiment,
Whose Corps on Powles, whose mind triumph'd on Kent,
Scorning to bate Sir Rodomont an ace.
I mus'd awhile: and hauing mus'd awhile,
Iesu, (quoth I) is that Gargantua minde
Conquerd, and left no Scanderbeg behinde ?
Vowed he not to Powles A Second bile?
What bile, or kibe? (quoth that same early Spright)
Haue you forgot the Scanderbegging wight?
Glosse.
Is it a Dreame? or is the Highest minde,
That euer haunted Powles, or hunted winde,
Bereaft of that same sky-surmounting breath,
That breath, that taught the Timpany to swell?
He, and the Plague contended for the game:

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poem by Gabriel Harvey
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Frendly Caueat to the Second Shakerley of Powles

SLumbring I lay in melancholy bed,
Before the dawning of the sanguin light:
When Eccho Shrill, or some Familiar Spright
Buzzed an Epitaph into my hed.
Magnifique Mindes, bred of Gargantuas race,
In grisly weedes His Obsequies waiment,
Whose Corps on Powles, whose mind triumph'd on Kent,
Scorning to bate Sir Rodomont an ace.
I mus'd awhile: and hauing mus'd awhile,
Iesu, (quoth I) is that Gargantua minde
Conquerd, and left no Scanderbeg behinde ?
Vowed he not to Powles A Second bile?
What bile, or kibe? (quoth that same early Spright)
Haue you forgot the Scanderbegging wight?
Glosse.
Is it a Dreame? or is the Highest minde,
That euer haunted Powles, or hunted winde,
Bereaft of that same sky-surmounting breath,
That breath, that taught the Timpany to swell?
He, and the Plague contended for the game:

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poem by Gabriel Harvey
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Speculum Tuscanismi

Since Galatea came in, and Tuscanism gan usurp,
Vanity above all: villainy next her, stateliness Empress
No man but minion, stout, lout, plain, swain, quoth a Lording:
No words but valorous, no works but womanish only.
For life Magnificoes, not a beck but glorious in show,
In deed most frivolous, not a look but Tuscanish always.
His cringing side neck, eyes glancing, fisnamy smirking,
With forefinger kiss, and brave embrace to the footward.
Large bellied Cod-pieced doublet, uncod-pieced half hose,
Straight to the dock like a shirt, and close to the britch like a diveling.
A little Apish flat couched fast to the pate like an oyster,
French camarick ruffs, deep with a whiteness starched to the purpose.
Every one A per se A, his terms and braveries in print,
Delicate in speech, quaint in array: conceited in all points,
In Courtly guiles a passing singular odd man,
For Gallants a brave Mirror, a Primrose of Honour,
A Diamond for nonce, a fellow peerless in England.
Not the like discourser for Tongue, and head to be found out,
Not the like resolute man for great and serious affairs,
Not the like Lynx to spy out secrets and privities of States,

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poem by Gabriel Harvey
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An heroic address to [Oxford], concerning the combined utility and dignity of military affairs and o

This is my welcome; this is how I have decided to bid All Hail!
to thee and to the other Nobles.
Thy splendid fame, great Earl, demands even more than in the case of others
the services of a poet possessing lofty eloquence.
Thy merit doth not creep along the ground,
nor can it be confined within the limits of a song.
It is a wonder which reaches as far as the heavenly orbs.
O great-hearted one, strong in thy mind and thy fiery will,
thou wilt conquer thyself, thou wilt conquer others;
thy glory will spread out in all directions beyond the Arctic Ocean;
and England will put thee to the test and prove thee to be native-born Achilles.
Do thou but go forward boldly and without hesitation.
Mars will obey thee, Hermes will be thy messenger,
Pallas striking her shield with her spear shaft will attend thee,
thine own breast and courageous heart will instruct thee.
For long time past Phoebus Apollo has cultivated thy mind in the arts.
English poetical measures have been sung by thee long enough.
Let that Courtly Epistle —
more polished even than the writings of Castiglione himself —
witness how greatly thou dost excel in letters.

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poem by Gabriel Harvey
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