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Epitaphes, Epigrams, Songs and Sonets

with a Discourse of the Friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his Ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile
 

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The Louer driuen to absent him from his Ladie, bawayles his estate.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Louer driuen to absent him from his Ladie, bawayles his estate.

When angrie Greekes wt Troians fought
In minde to sack their welthie Towne,
King Agamemnon needefull thought
To beate the neighbour Cities downe,
And by his Princely power to quell
Such as by Priams Realme did dwell.
Thus forth he trauailde with his traine
Till he vnto Lyrnesus came,
Where cruell fight he did maintaine,
And slue such Wights as were of fame:

[125]

Downe went the walles and all to wrack
And so was Lyrnes brought to sack.
Two Noble Dames of passing shape
Unto the Prince were brought in fine
That might compare with Paris rape,
Their glimring beauties so did shine:
The Prince chose fairest of the twaine,
And Achyll tother for his paine.
And thus the warlike Chiefetaines liude
Eche with his Ladie in delight:
Till Agamemnon was depriude
Of hir that golden Chryses hight.
For Gods did will as (Poets faine)
That he should yeelde hir vp againe.
Which done, he reft Achylles Mate
To serue in Chrysis place at neede,
Not forcing on the fowle debate
That followde of that cruell deede:
For why Achylles grutged sore
To lose the Lasse he wan before.
And what for griefe and great disdaine
The Greeke his Helmet hoong aside,
And Sworde that many a Knight had slaine,
And Shield that Troian Darts had tride:
Refusing to approch the place
Where he was woont his foes to chase.
His manly courage was appallde
His valiant hart began to yeelde,

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His brawned armes that earst were gallde
With clattering Armour in the field
Had lost their force, his fist did faint,
His gladsome songs were growne to plaint.
His mouth refusde his woonted foode,
His tongue could feele no taste of meat,
His hanging cheekes declarde his moode,
His feltred beard with haire vnset,
Bewraid his sodaine chaunge of cheere
For loosing of his louing Feere.
His eares but sorrowes sounde could heare,
The Trumpets tune was quite forgot,
His eies were fraught with many a teare,
Whome carcking care permitted not
The pleasant slumber to retaine
To quite the sielie Misers paine.
The thousande part of pensiue care
The Noble Greeke endured than
In Bryseis absence, to declare
It farre surmounts the Wit of man:
But sure a Martyr right he liude
Of Bryseis beautie once beriude.
If thus Achylles valiant hart
Were wrapt in web of wailefull wo,
That was invrde too dint of Dart
His louing Bryseis to forgo.
If thus the sturdie Greeke (I say)
Bewaild the night and wept the day:

[126]

Then blame not mee a louing Wight
Whome Nature made to Cupids Bow
To liue in such a piteous plight,
Bewasht with waues of woorser wo
Than euer was the Greekish Peere
Dispoiled of his Darling deere.
For I of force am faine to flee
The presse, the presence and the place
Of you my Loue a brauer B
Than Bryseis was for foote and face,
For Head, for Hande, for Carkasse eeke
Not to be matcht of any Greeke.
Whose troth you haue full often tride,
Whose hart hath beene vnfolded quight
Whose faith by friendship was descride
Whose ioy consisted in your sight,
Whose paine was pleasure if in place
He might but gaze vpon thy face.
O dolefull Greeke I would I might
Exchaunge my trouble for thy paine,
For then I hope I should acquite
My griefe with gladsome ioyes againe:
For Bryseis made returne to thee,
Would B. might doe the like to mee.
But to exchaunge my Loue for thine,
Or B. for Bryseis I ne would:
To labour in the Leaden Mine.
And leaue the ground where growes the Golde

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I minde it not, it follie were
To choose the pare, and leaue the Peare.