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 |  |
One Eu'n, e're Phœbus (neere the golden shore
Of Tagus streame) his iourney gan giue o're;
They had ascended vp a woody hill,
(Where oft the Fauni with their Bugles shrill
Wakened the Eccho, and with many a shout
Follow'd the fearefull Deere the woods about,
Or through the Brakes that hide the craggy rockes,
Digd to the hole where lyes the wily Fox.)
Thence they beheld an vnder-lying Vale,
Where Flora set her rarest flowres at sale,
Whither the thriuing Bee came oft to sucke them,
And fairest Nymphes to decke their haire did plucke them.
Where oft the Goddesses did run at base,
And on white Harts begun the Wilde-goose-chase:
Here various Nature seem'd adorning this,
In imitation of the fields of blisse;
Or as she would intice the soules of men
To leaue Elizium, and liue here agen.
Not Hybla mountaine in the iocund prime
Vpon her many bushes of sweet Thyme
Shewes greater number of industrious Bees,
Then were the Birds that sung there on the trees.
Like the trim windings of a wanton Lake,
That doth his passage through a Meadow make,
Ran the delightfull Vally 'tweene two Hils:
From whose rare trees the precious Balme distils,
And hence Apollo had his simples good
That cur'd the Gods, hurt by the Earths ill brood.
A Crystall Riuer on her bosome slid,
And (passing) seem'd in sullen muttrings chid
The artlesse Songsters, that their Musicke still
Should charme the sweet Dale and the wistfull Hill:
Not suffering her shrill waters, as they run
Tun'd with a whistling gale in Vnison
To tell as high they priz'd the brodred Vale
As the quicke Lennet or sweet Nightingale.
Downe from a steepe Rocke came the water first,
(Where lusty Satyres often quench'd their thirst)
And with no little speed seem'd all in haste,
Till it the louely bottome had embrac'd:
Then as intranc'd to heare the sweet Birds sing,
In curled whirlpooles she her course doth bring,
As loth to leaue the songs that lull'd the Dale,
Or waiting time, when she and some soft gale
Should speake what true delight they did possesse
Among the rare flowres which the Vally dresse.
But since those quaint Musitians would not stay,
Nor suffer any to be heard but they:
Much like a little Lad who gotten new
To play his part amongst a skilfull crew
Of choise Musitians on some softer string
That is not heard, the others fingering
Drowning his Art, the Boy would gladly get
Applause with others that are of his Set,
And therefore strikes a stroke loud as the best,
And often descants when his fellowes rest;
That to be heard (as vsuall singers doe)
Spoiles his owne Musicke and his partners too:
So at the further end the waters fell
From off an high bancke downe a lowly Dell,
As they had vow'd, ere passing from that ground,
The Birds should be inforc'd to heare their sound.
Of Tagus streame) his iourney gan giue o're;
They had ascended vp a woody hill,
(Where oft the Fauni with their Bugles shrill
Wakened the Eccho, and with many a shout
Follow'd the fearefull Deere the woods about,
Or through the Brakes that hide the craggy rockes,
Digd to the hole where lyes the wily Fox.)
Thence they beheld an vnder-lying Vale,
Where Flora set her rarest flowres at sale,
Whither the thriuing Bee came oft to sucke them,
And fairest Nymphes to decke their haire did plucke them.
Where oft the Goddesses did run at base,
And on white Harts begun the Wilde-goose-chase:
Here various Nature seem'd adorning this,
In imitation of the fields of blisse;
Or as she would intice the soules of men
To leaue Elizium, and liue here agen.
Not Hybla mountaine in the iocund prime
Vpon her many bushes of sweet Thyme
Shewes greater number of industrious Bees,
Then were the Birds that sung there on the trees.
Like the trim windings of a wanton Lake,
17
Ran the delightfull Vally 'tweene two Hils:
From whose rare trees the precious Balme distils,
And hence Apollo had his simples good
That cur'd the Gods, hurt by the Earths ill brood.
A Crystall Riuer on her bosome slid,
And (passing) seem'd in sullen muttrings chid
The artlesse Songsters, that their Musicke still
Should charme the sweet Dale and the wistfull Hill:
Not suffering her shrill waters, as they run
Tun'd with a whistling gale in Vnison
To tell as high they priz'd the brodred Vale
As the quicke Lennet or sweet Nightingale.
Downe from a steepe Rocke came the water first,
(Where lusty Satyres often quench'd their thirst)
And with no little speed seem'd all in haste,
Till it the louely bottome had embrac'd:
Then as intranc'd to heare the sweet Birds sing,
In curled whirlpooles she her course doth bring,
As loth to leaue the songs that lull'd the Dale,
Or waiting time, when she and some soft gale
Should speake what true delight they did possesse
Among the rare flowres which the Vally dresse.
But since those quaint Musitians would not stay,
Nor suffer any to be heard but they:
Much like a little Lad who gotten new
To play his part amongst a skilfull crew
Of choise Musitians on some softer string
That is not heard, the others fingering
Drowning his Art, the Boy would gladly get
Applause with others that are of his Set,
And therefore strikes a stroke loud as the best,
And often descants when his fellowes rest;
That to be heard (as vsuall singers doe)
Spoiles his owne Musicke and his partners too:
So at the further end the waters fell
18
As they had vow'd, ere passing from that ground,
The Birds should be inforc'd to heare their sound.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |