How wonderful to learn something absolutely new! Just recently I discovered the poet barnabe Googe for myself in Paul Keegan’s The Penguin Book of English Verse. Googe (1540–1594) lived right on the cusp between archaic and modern English, and many of his poems are refreshingly “plain,” with a rather metaphyscal feeling:

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

The oftener seen, the more I lust,
The more I lust, the more I smart,
The more I smart, the more I trust,
The more I trust, the heavier heart;
The heavy heart breeds mine unrest,
Thy absence, therefore, like I best.

The rarer seen, the less in mind,
The less in mind, the lesser pain,
The lesser pain, less grief I find,
The lesser grief, the greater gain,
The greater gain, the merrier I,
Therefore I wish thy sight to fly.

The further off, the more I joy,
The more I joy, the happier life,
The happier life, less hurts annoy,
The lesser hurts, pleasure most rife:
Such pleasures rife shall I obtain
When distance doth depart us twain.

Commynge Home-warde out of Spayne

O ragyng Seas,
and myghty Neptunes rayne,
In monstrous Hylles,
that throwest thy selfe so hye,
That wyth thy fludes,
doest beate the shores of Spayne:
And breake the Clyves,
that dare thy force envie.
Cease now thy rage,
and laye thyne Ire asyde,
And thou that hast,
the governaunce of all,
O myghty God,
grant Wether Wynd and Tyde,
Tyll on my Coun-
treye Coast, our Anker fall.

I particularly like the hyphenation between the penultimate and final lines.