The Student with an antient Writ
Distraction doth defeate:
And Vanity him to entrapp;
To Island doth entreate.
I.
An Elfin Clerke was trotting through the cold
Ycladd in clothing cheap with face sevear
Wherein new lines of age that seemed olde
Did tell of long moneths spent in archives drear.
Yet bookes til that time oft had brought him chear:
His paensive steed his heavy brows did knit
As scanning matters deepe and formes unclear.
Full learned clerke he seem’d, and fair did sitt,
As one for ancient scrolls and lengthy lectures fitt.
II.
But on his back an heavy tome he bore–
The dread tradition of the Phaerie londes–
Which on his frame and minde did weigh full sore,
For in its leaves were writ the dread commaunds
That ancient mages with their mysticke wands
Did chaunt to wield th’ elements diuine.
The same such did he take with him on hondes,
To fashion spells and glammours to design
Though nothing new could make, but old charmes recombine.
III.
Vpon a great aduenture he was sent,
That great Philosophia to him gaue–
That greatest, wisest Duchess–who had leant
The work he bore in order it to saue
From one who hoped its power to enslaue.
And euer as he rode, his hart did earne
To slay the beast who that great booke did crave.
Now other textes abroadde he sought, to learn
The meanes to do’t: ’til then he mote not home return.
