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 |  |
The feathred houres fiue times were ouer-told,
And twice as many floods and ebbs had rold
The small sands out and in, since faire Marine
(For whose long losse a hundred Shepherds pine)
Was by the charitable Robin fed:
For whom (had she not so beene nourished)
A hundred Doues would search the Sun-burnt hils,
Or fruitfull Vallies lac'd with siluer rils,
To bring her Oliues. Th' Eagle strong of sight
To Countries farre remote would bend her flight,
And with vnwearied wing strip through the skie
To the choise plots of Gaule and Italy,
And neuer lin till home-ward she escape
With the Pomgranat, Lemmon, Oringe, Grape,
Or the lou'd Citron, and attain'd the Caue.
The well-plum'd Goshawke (by th' Egyptians graue
Vs'd in their mysticke Characters for speed)
Would not be wanting at so great a need,
But from the well-stor'd Orchards of the Land
Brought the sweet Peare (once by a cursed hand
At
Swinsted vs'd with poyson, for the fall
Of one who on these Plaines rul'd Lord of all.)
The sentfull Osprey by the Rocke had fish'd
And many a prettie Shrimp in Scallops dish'd,
Some way conuay'd her; no one of the shole
That haunt the waues, but from his lurking hole
Had pull'd the Cray-fish, and with much adoe
Brought that the Maid, and Perywinckles too.
But these for others might their labours spare,
And not with Robin for their merits share.
Yet as a Herdesse in a Summers day,
Heat with the glorious Suns all-purging ray,
In the calme Euening (leauing her faire flocke)
Betakes her selfe vnto a froth-girt Rocke,
On which the head-long Tauy throwes his waues,
(And foames to see the stones neglect his braues:)
Where sitting to vndoe her Buskins white,
And wash her neat legs, (as her vse each night)
Th' inamour'd flood, before she can vnlace them,
Rowles vp his waues as hast'ning to imbrace them,
And though to helpe them some small gale doe blow,
And one of twenty can but reach her so;
Yet will a many little surges be
Flashing vpon the rocke full busily,
And doe the best they can to kisse her feet,
But that their power and will not equall meet:
So as she for her Nurse look'd tow'rds the land,
(And now beholds the trees that grace the strand,
Then lookes vpon a hill whose sliding sides
A goodly flocke (like winters cou'ring) hides,
And higher on some stone that iutteth out,
Their carefull master guiding his trim rout
By sending forth his Dog (as Shepherds doe),
Or piping sate, or clowting of his shoe.)
Whence, nearer hand drawing her wandring sight
(So from the earth steales the all-quickning light)
Beneath the rocke, the waters high, but late,
(I know not by what sluce or empting gate)
Were at a low ebbe; on the sand she spies
A busie Bird that to and fro still flies,
Till pitching where a heatfull Oyster lay,
Opening his close iawes, (closer none then they
Vnlesse the griping fist, or cherry lips
Of happy Louers in their melting sips.)
Since the decreasing waues had left him there
Gaping for thirst, yet meets with nought but ayre,
And that so hot; ere the returning tyde,
He in his shell is likely to be fride;
The wary Bird a prittie pibble takes
And claps it twixt the two pearle-hiding flakes
Of the broad yawning Oyster, and she then
Securely pickes the fish out (as some men
A tricke of policie thrust tweene two friends,
Seuer their powres), and his intention ends.
The Bird thus getting that, for which she stroue,
Brought it to her: to whom the Queene of Loue
Seru'd as a foyle, and Cupid could no other,
But flie to her mistaken for his Mother.
Marina from the kinde Bird tooke the meat,
And (looking downe) she saw a number great
Of Birds, each one a pibble in his bill,
Would doe the like, but that they wanted skill:
Some threw it in too farre, and some too short;
This could not beare a stone fit for such sport,
But, harmelesse wretch, putting in one too small,
The Oyster shuts and takes his head withall.
Another bringing one too smooth and round,
(Vnhappy Bird that thine owne death hast found)
Layes it so little way in his hard lips,
That with their sodaine close, the pibble slips
So strongly forth (as when your little ones
Doe twixt their fingers slip their Cherry-stones),
That it in passage meets the brest or head
Of the poore wretch, and layes him there for dead.
A many striu'd, and gladly would haue done
As much or more then he which first begun,
But all in vaine: scarce one of twenty could
Performe the deed, which they full gladly would.
For this not quicke is to that act he go'th,
That wanteth skill, this cunning, and some both:
Yet none a will, for (from the caue) she sees
Not in all-louely May th' industrious Bees
More busie with the flowres could be, then these
Among the shell-fish of the working Seas.
And twice as many floods and ebbs had rold
The small sands out and in, since faire Marine
(For whose long losse a hundred Shepherds pine)
Was by the charitable Robin fed:
For whom (had she not so beene nourished)
A hundred Doues would search the Sun-burnt hils,
Or fruitfull Vallies lac'd with siluer rils,
To bring her Oliues. Th' Eagle strong of sight
To Countries farre remote would bend her flight,
And with vnwearied wing strip through the skie
To the choise plots of Gaule and Italy,
And neuer lin till home-ward she escape
With the Pomgranat, Lemmon, Oringe, Grape,
Or the lou'd Citron, and attain'd the Caue.
The well-plum'd Goshawke (by th' Egyptians graue
30
Would not be wanting at so great a need,
But from the well-stor'd Orchards of the Land
Brought the sweet Peare (once by a cursed hand
At
One writes that K. Iohn was poison'd at Swinsted, with a dish of peares: Others, there, in a cup of wine: Some that he died at Newark of the Flux. A fourth by the distemperature of Peaches eaten in his fit of an Ague. Among so many doubts, I leaue you to beleeue the Author most in credit with our best of Antiquaries.
Of one who on these Plaines rul'd Lord of all.)
The sentfull Osprey by the Rocke had fish'd
And many a prettie Shrimp in Scallops dish'd,
Some way conuay'd her; no one of the shole
That haunt the waues, but from his lurking hole
Had pull'd the Cray-fish, and with much adoe
Brought that the Maid, and Perywinckles too.
But these for others might their labours spare,
And not with Robin for their merits share.
Yet as a Herdesse in a Summers day,
Heat with the glorious Suns all-purging ray,
In the calme Euening (leauing her faire flocke)
Betakes her selfe vnto a froth-girt Rocke,
On which the head-long Tauy throwes his waues,
(And foames to see the stones neglect his braues:)
Where sitting to vndoe her Buskins white,
And wash her neat legs, (as her vse each night)
Th' inamour'd flood, before she can vnlace them,
Rowles vp his waues as hast'ning to imbrace them,
And though to helpe them some small gale doe blow,
And one of twenty can but reach her so;
Yet will a many little surges be
Flashing vpon the rocke full busily,
And doe the best they can to kisse her feet,
But that their power and will not equall meet:
So as she for her Nurse look'd tow'rds the land,
(And now beholds the trees that grace the strand,
Then lookes vpon a hill whose sliding sides
A goodly flocke (like winters cou'ring) hides,
And higher on some stone that iutteth out,
Their carefull master guiding his trim rout
31
Or piping sate, or clowting of his shoe.)
Whence, nearer hand drawing her wandring sight
(So from the earth steales the all-quickning light)
Beneath the rocke, the waters high, but late,
(I know not by what sluce or empting gate)
Were at a low ebbe; on the sand she spies
A busie Bird that to and fro still flies,
Till pitching where a heatfull Oyster lay,
Opening his close iawes, (closer none then they
Vnlesse the griping fist, or cherry lips
Of happy Louers in their melting sips.)
Since the decreasing waues had left him there
Gaping for thirst, yet meets with nought but ayre,
And that so hot; ere the returning tyde,
He in his shell is likely to be fride;
The wary Bird a prittie pibble takes
And claps it twixt the two pearle-hiding flakes
Of the broad yawning Oyster, and she then
Securely pickes the fish out (as some men
A tricke of policie thrust tweene two friends,
Seuer their powres), and his intention ends.
The Bird thus getting that, for which she stroue,
Brought it to her: to whom the Queene of Loue
Seru'd as a foyle, and Cupid could no other,
But flie to her mistaken for his Mother.
Marina from the kinde Bird tooke the meat,
And (looking downe) she saw a number great
Of Birds, each one a pibble in his bill,
Would doe the like, but that they wanted skill:
Some threw it in too farre, and some too short;
This could not beare a stone fit for such sport,
But, harmelesse wretch, putting in one too small,
The Oyster shuts and takes his head withall.
Another bringing one too smooth and round,
(Vnhappy Bird that thine owne death hast found)
32
That with their sodaine close, the pibble slips
So strongly forth (as when your little ones
Doe twixt their fingers slip their Cherry-stones),
That it in passage meets the brest or head
Of the poore wretch, and layes him there for dead.
A many striu'd, and gladly would haue done
As much or more then he which first begun,
But all in vaine: scarce one of twenty could
Performe the deed, which they full gladly would.
For this not quicke is to that act he go'th,
That wanteth skill, this cunning, and some both:
Yet none a will, for (from the caue) she sees
Not in all-louely May th' industrious Bees
More busie with the flowres could be, then these
Among the shell-fish of the working Seas.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |