 | The pilgrime and heremite |  |
And so when that rare Pearle departed out of paine,
Upon the colde dead Corpse of her leile Loue,
Unto my else hurt Heart did heape Harmes againe,
And layde new weight on my brast Breast aboue.
To see him and her gaspe, still nowright my care.
I wist not whom to helpe, him, or her there.
While I stoode in this doubt,
The Heremite lookt out,
And gaue a faint shout,
Twixt hope, and despare.
Upon the colde dead Corpse of her leile Loue,
Unto my else hurt Heart did heape Harmes againe,
And layde new weight on my brast Breast aboue.
To see him and her gaspe, still nowright my care.
I wist not whom to helpe, him, or her there.
While I stoode in this doubt,
The Heremite lookt out,
And gaue a faint shout,
Twixt hope, and despare.
This is the Worldes most wondrous worthie Wight,
Most matchlesse of all, that may on molde moue.
Halowed bee the Heavens, that showde mee this sight.
And lent mee this light, to looke on my leile loue.
Now am I glad, and vngriev'd, to Graue though I goe:
Thy travell and toyle doeth reward well my woe.
For wilt thou belieue mee,
My Maker mischieue mee,
If thou canst agrieue mee,
I still loue thee so.
Most matchlesse of all, that may on molde moue.
Halowed bee the Heavens, that showde mee this sight.
And lent mee this light, to looke on my leile loue.
Now am I glad, and vngriev'd, to Graue though I goe:
Thy travell and toyle doeth reward well my woe.
For wilt thou belieue mee,
My Maker mischieue mee,
If thou canst agrieue mee,
I still loue thee so.
I come, quod the Cleare then, to cure all thy care,
Though the Faites had forsworne to sang thee my Feire.
Bee blythe then, my deare heart, and mourne thou no maire,
For Peace, saith the Proverbe, puts end to all weire.
Goe leaue then thy Hermitage, and thy cold Caue,
Where Wolfe, Lyon, wilde Beare, thy blood still doe craue,
And with the good God's grace,
Thou shalt in a short space,
For all thy losse finde release,
And first Health receiue.
Though the Faites had forsworne to sang thee my Feire.
For Peace, saith the Proverbe, puts end to all weire.
Goe leaue then thy Hermitage, and thy cold Caue,
Where Wolfe, Lyon, wilde Beare, thy blood still doe craue,
And with the good God's grace,
Thou shalt in a short space,
For all thy losse finde release,
And first Health receiue.
Then franklie the Frieke fuire, with her helpe and mine,
And to her Palfray hee past, although with great paine:
And tooke on that sweet Sainct, that meeke Iem divine;
That miracle which gods made, as next vnto naine.
Then blythlie the Bairne bl[illeg.]t, and hyde hastie Hame,
Throgh sheene Shawes, & donke Dailes, with his deare Dame.
And so with Adew dry,
Through the Wood could they hye,
As wee twind, they and I,
I woke of my Dreame.
And to her Palfray hee past, although with great paine:
And tooke on that sweet Sainct, that meeke Iem divine;
That miracle which gods made, as next vnto naine.
Then blythlie the Bairne bl[illeg.]t, and hyde hastie Hame,
Throgh sheene Shawes, & donke Dailes, with his deare Dame.
And so with Adew dry,
Through the Wood could they hye,
As wee twind, they and I,
I woke of my Dreame.
Heere endeth the fatalitie of the loyall Lover Soliphernus, and
of his sweete Ladie Polyphila.
| The pilgrime and heremite | |