The Whole Works of William Browne of Tavistock ... Now first collected and edited, with a memoir of the poet, and notes, by W. Carew Hazlitt, of the Inner Temple |
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 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
Two of the quaintest Swaines that yet haue beene,
Fail'd their attendance on the Oceans Queene:
Remond and Doridon, whose haplesse Fates
Late seuer'd them from their more happy mates.
For (gentle Swaines) if you remember well,
When last I sung on brim of yonder dell,
And as I ghesse it was that sunny morne,
When in the groue thereby my sheepe were shorne,
I weene I told you, while the Shepherds yong
Were at their Past'rall and their rurall Song,
The shrikes of some poore Maid, fallen in mischance,
Inuok't their aid, and drew them from their dance:
Each ran a seuerall way to helpe the Maid;
Some tow'rds the Vallie, some the green wood straid:
Here one the thicket beats, and there a Swaine
Enters the hidden Caues; but all in vaine.
Nor could they finde the wight whose shrikes and cry
Flew through the gentle ayre so heauily,
Nor see or man or beast, whose cruell teene
Would wrong a Maiden or in graue or greene.
Backe then return'd they all to end their sport
But Doridon and Remond, who resort
Backe to those places which they erst had sought,
Nor could a thicket be by Nature wrought
In such a web, so intricate, and knit
So strong with Bryers, but they would enter it.
Remond his Fida cals; Fida the woods
Resound againe, and Fida speake the floods,
As if the Riuers and the Hils did frame
Themselues no small delight, to heare her name.
Yet she appeares not. Doridon would now
Haue call'd his Loue too, but he knew not how:
Much like a man who, dreaming in his sleepe
That he is falling from some Mountaine steepe
Into a soundlesse Lake, about whose brim
A thousand Crocodiles doe wait for him,
And hangs but by one bough, and should that breake
His life goes with it, yet to cry or speake,
Though faine he would, can moue nor voyce nor tongue:
So when he Remond heard the woods among
Call for his Fida, he would gladly too
Haue call'd his fairest Loue, but knew not who,
Or what to call; poore Lad, that canst not tell,
Nor speake the name of her thou lou'st so well.
Fail'd their attendance on the Oceans Queene:
Remond and Doridon, whose haplesse Fates
Late seuer'd them from their more happy mates.
For (gentle Swaines) if you remember well,
When last I sung on brim of yonder dell,
And as I ghesse it was that sunny morne,
When in the groue thereby my sheepe were shorne,
12
Were at their Past'rall and their rurall Song,
The shrikes of some poore Maid, fallen in mischance,
Inuok't their aid, and drew them from their dance:
Each ran a seuerall way to helpe the Maid;
Some tow'rds the Vallie, some the green wood straid:
Here one the thicket beats, and there a Swaine
Enters the hidden Caues; but all in vaine.
Nor could they finde the wight whose shrikes and cry
Flew through the gentle ayre so heauily,
Nor see or man or beast, whose cruell teene
Would wrong a Maiden or in graue or greene.
Backe then return'd they all to end their sport
But Doridon and Remond, who resort
Backe to those places which they erst had sought,
Nor could a thicket be by Nature wrought
In such a web, so intricate, and knit
So strong with Bryers, but they would enter it.
Remond his Fida cals; Fida the woods
Resound againe, and Fida speake the floods,
As if the Riuers and the Hils did frame
Themselues no small delight, to heare her name.
Yet she appeares not. Doridon would now
Haue call'd his Loue too, but he knew not how:
Much like a man who, dreaming in his sleepe
That he is falling from some Mountaine steepe
Into a soundlesse Lake, about whose brim
A thousand Crocodiles doe wait for him,
And hangs but by one bough, and should that breake
His life goes with it, yet to cry or speake,
Though faine he would, can moue nor voyce nor tongue:
So when he Remond heard the woods among
Call for his Fida, he would gladly too
Haue call'd his fairest Loue, but knew not who,
Or what to call; poore Lad, that canst not tell,
Nor speake the name of her thou lou'st so well.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |