University of Virginia Library

Faire was the day, but fairer was the Maid
Who that daies morn into the green-woods straid.
Sweet was the ayre, but sweeter was her breathing,
Such rare perfumes the Roses are bequeathing.
Bright shone the Sun, but brighter were her eyes,
Such are the Lampes that guide the Deities;
Nay such the fire is, whence the Pythian Knight
Borrowes his beames, and lends his Sister light.
Not Pelop's shoulder whiter then her hands,
Nor snowie Swans that iet on Isca's sands.
Sweet Flora, as if rauisht with their sight,
In emulation made all Lillies white:
For as I oft haue heard the Wood-nimphs say,
The dancing Fairies, when they left to play,
Then blacke did pull them, and in holes of trees
Stole the sweet honey from the painfull Bees;
Which in the flowre to put they oft were seene,
And for a banquet brought it to their Queene.
But she that is the Goddesse of the flowres
(Inuited to their groues and shady bowres)
Mislik'd their choise. They said that all the field
No other flowre did for that purpose yeeld;
But quoth a nimble Fay that by did stand:
If you could giue't the colour of yond hand;
(Walla by chance was in a meadow by
Learning to 'sample earths embrodery)
It were a gift would Flora well befit,
And our great Queene the more would honour it.
She gaue consent; and by some other powre
Made Venus Doues be equall'd by the flowre,
But not her hand; for Nature this prefers:
All other whites but shadowings to hers.
Her haire was rowl'd in many a curious fret,
Much like a rich and artfull Coronet,
Vpon whose arches twenty Cupids lay,
And were or tide, or loath to flye away.
Vpon her bright eyes Phœbus his inclinde,
And by their radience was the God stroke blinde,
That cleane awry th' Ecclipticke then he stript,
And from the milky way his horses whipt;
So that the Easterne world to feare begun
Some stranger droue the Chariot of the Sun.
And neuer but that once did heauens bright eye
Bestow one looke on the Cymmerij.
A greene silke frock her comely shoulders clad,
And tooke delight that such a seat it had,
Which at her middle gath'red vp in pleats,
A loue-knot Girdle willing bondage threats.
Not Venus Ceston held a brauer peece,
Nor that which girt the fairest flowre of Greece.
Downe from her waste, her mantle loose did fall,
Which Zephyre (as afraid) still plaid withall,
And then tuck'd vp somewhat below the knee
Shew'd searching eyes where Cupids columnes be.
The inside lin'd with rich Carnation silke,
And in the midst of both, Lawne white as milke.
Which white beneath the red did seeme to shroud,
As Cynthia's beautie through a blushing cloud,
About the edges curious to behold
A deepe fringe hung of rich and twisted gold,
So on the greene marge of a crystall brooke
A thousand yealow flowres at fishes looke;
And such the beames are of the glorious Sun,
That through a tuft of grasse dispersed run.
Vpon her leg a paire of Buskins white,
Studded with orient Pearle and Chrysolite,
And like her Mantle stitcht with gold and greene,
(Fairer yet neuer wore the Forrests Queene)
Knit close with ribands of a party hue,
A knot of Crimson and a tuft of blew,
Nor can the Peacocke in his spotted traine
So many pleasing colours shew againe;
Nor could there be a mixture with more grace,
Except the heau'nly Roses in her face.
A siluer Quiuer at her backe she wore,
With Darts and Arrowes for the Stag and Boare,
But in her eyes she had such darts agen
Could conquer Gods, and wound the hearts of men.
Her left hand held a knotty Brasill Bow,
Whose strength with teares she made the red Deere know.
So clad, so arm'd, so drest to win her will
Diana neuer trode on Latmus hill.
Walla, the fairest Nimph that haunts the woods,
Walla, belou'd of Shepherds, Faunes and Floods,
Walla, for whom the frolike Satyres pine,
Walla, with whose fine foot the flowrets twine,
Walla, of whom sweet Birds their ditties moue,
Walla, the earths delight, and Tauy's loue.
This fairest Nimph, when Tauy first preuail'd
And won affection where the Siluans fail'd,
Had promis'd (as a fauour to his streame)
Each weeke to crowne it with an Anadem:
And now Hyperion from his glitt'ring throne
Seu'n times his quickning rayes had brauely showne
Vnto the other world, since Walla last
Had on her Tauy's head the Garland plac'd;
And this day (as of right) she wends abroad
To ease the Meadowes of their willing load.
Flora, as if to welcome her, those houres
Had beene most lauish of her choisest flowres,
Spreading more beauties to intice that morne
Then she had done in many daies beforne.
Looke as a Maiden sitting in the shade
Of some close Arbour by the Wood-binde made,
With-drawne alone where vndiscride she may
By her most curious Needle giue assay
Vnto some Purse (if so her fancy moue)
Or other token for her truest Loue,
Varietie of silke about her pap,
Or in a box she takes vpon her lap,
Whose pleasing colours wooing her quicke eye,
Now this she thinkes the ground would beautifie,
And that, to flourish with, she deemeth best;
When spying others, she is straight possest
Those fittest are; yet from that choice doth fall
And she resolues at last to vse them all:
So Walla, which to gather long time stood,
Whether those of the field, or of the wood;
Or those that 'mong the springs and marish lay;
But then the blossomes which inrich'd each spray
Allur'd her looke; whose many coloured graces
Did in her Garland challenge no meane places:
And therefore she (not to be poore in plenty)
From Meadows, springs, woods, spraies, culs some one dainty,
Which in a scarfe she put, and onwards set
To finde a place to dresse her Coronet.
A little Groue is seated on the marge
Of Tauy's streame, not ouer-thicke nor large,
Where euery morne a quire of Siluans sung,
And leaues to chattring winds seru'd as a tongue,
By whom the water turnes in many a ring,
As if it faine would stay to heare them sing;
And on the top a thousand young Birds flye,
To be instructed in their harmony.
Neere to the end of this all-ioysome Groue
A dainty circled plot seem'd as it stroue
To keepe all Bryers and bushes from inuading
Her pleasing compasse by their needlesse shading,
Since it was not so large, but that the store
Of trees around could shade her brest and more.
In midst thereof a little swelling hill,
Gently disburd'ned of a crystall rill
Which from the greenside of the flowrie banke
Eat down a channell; here the Wood-nymphs drank,
And great Diana hauing slaine the Deere,
Did often vse to come and bathe her here.
Here talk'd they of their chase, and where next day
They meant to hunt; here did the shepherds play,
And many a gaudy Nymph was often seene
Imbracing shepherds boyes vpon this greene.
From hence the spring hasts downe to Tauy's brim,
And paies a tribute of his drops to him.
Here Walla rests the rising mount vpon,
That seem'd to swell more since she sate thereon,
And from her scarfe vpon the grasse shooke downe
The smelling flowres that should her Riuer crowne:
The Scarfe (in shaking it) she brushed oft,
Whereon were flowres so fresh and liuely wrought,
That her owne cunning was her owne deceit,
Thinking those true which were but counterfeit.
Vnder an Aldar on his sandy marge
Was Tauy set to view his nimble charge,
And there his Loue he long time had expected:
While many a rose-cheekt Nymph no wile neglected
To wooe him to imbraces; which he scorn'd,
As valluing more the beauties which adorn'd
His fairest Walla, then all Natures pride
Spent on the cheekes of all her sexe beside.
Now would they tempt him with their open brests,
And sweare their lips were Loues assured Tests:
That Walla sure would giue him the deniall
Till she had knowne him true by such a triall,
Then comes another, and her hand bereaues
The soone slipt Alder of two clammy leaues,
And clapping them together, bids him see
And learne of loue the hidden mystery.
Braue Flood (quoth she) that hold'st vs in suspence,
And shew'st a God-like powre in abstinence,
At this thy coldnesse we doe nothing wonder,
These leaues did so, when once they grew asunder;
But since the one did taste the others blisse,
And felt his partners kinde partake with his,
Behold how close they ioyne; and had they power
To speake their now content, as we can our,
They would on Nature lay a hainous crime
For keeping close such sweets vntill this time.
Is there to such men ought of merit due,
That doe abstaine from what they neuer knew?
No: then as well we may account him wise
For speaking nought, who wants those faculties.
Taste thou our sweets; come here and freely sip
Diuinest Nectar from my melting lip;
Gaze on mine eyes, whose life-infusing beames
Haue power to melt the Icy Northerne streames,
And so inflame the Gods of those bound Seas
They should vnchaine their virgin passages,
And teach our Mariners from day to day
To bring vs Iewels by a neerer way.
Twine thy long fingers in my shining haire,
And thinke it no disgrace to hide them there;
For I could tell thee how the Paphian Queene
Met me one day vpon yond pleasant Greene,
And did intreat a slip (though I was coy)
Wherewith to fetter her lasciuious Boy.
Play with my teates that swell to haue impression;
And if thou please from thence to make digression,
Passe thou that milkie way where great Apollo
And higher powres then he would gladly follow.
When to the full of these thou shalt attaine,
It were some mastry for thee to refraine;
But since thou know'st not what such pleasures be
The world will not commend but laugh at thee.
But thou wilt say, thy Walla yeelds such store
Of ioyes, that no one Loue can raise thee more;
Admit it so, as who but thinkes it strange?
Yet shalt thou finde a pleasure more, in change,
If that thou lik'st not, gentle Flood, but heare
To proue that state the best I neuer feare.
Tell me wherein the state and glory is
Of thee, of Auon, or braue Thamesis?
In your owne Springs? or by the flowing head
Of some such Riuer onely seconded?
Or is it through the multitude that doe
Send downe their waters to attend on you?
Your mixture with lesse Brookes addes to your fames,
So long as they in you doe loose their names:
And comming to the Ocean, thou dost see,
It takes in other Floods as well as thee;
It were no sport to vs that hunting loue
If we were still confinde to one large Groue.
The water which in one Poole hath abiding
Is not so sweet as Rillets euer gliding.
Nor would the brackish waues in whom you meet
Containe that state it doth, but be lesse sweet,
And with contagious streames all mortals smother,
But that it moues from this shore to the other.
There's no one season such delight can bring,
As Summer, Autumne, Winter, and the Spring.
Nor the best Flowre that doth on earth appeare
Could by it selfe content vs all the yeere.
The Salmons, and some more as well as they,
Now loue the freshet, and then loue the Sea.
The flitting Fowles not in one coast doe tarry,
But with the yeere their habitation vary.
What Musicke is there in a Shepherds quill
(Plaid on by him that hath the greatest skill)
If but a stop or two thereon we spy?
Musicke is best in her varietie.
So is discourse, so ioyes; and why not then
As well the liues and loues of Gods as men?
More she had spoke, but that the gallant Flood
Replide: ye wanton Rangers of the wood,
Leaue your allurements; hye ye to your chase;
See where Diana with a nimble pace
Followes a strucke Deere: if you longer stay
Her frowne will bend to me another day.
Harke how she winds her Horne; she some doth call
Perhaps for you, to make in to the fall.
It needlesse was to bid the Flood pursue:
Anger gaue wings; waies that he neuer knew
Till now, he treads; through dels and hidden brakes
Flies through the Meadows, each where ouertakes
Streames swiftly gliding, and them brings along
To further iust reuenge for so great wrong,
His current till that day was neuer knowne,
But as a Meade in Iuly, which vnmowne
Beares in an equall height each bent and stem,
Vnlesse some gentle gale doe play with them.
Now runs it with such fury and such rage,
That mightie Rocks opposing vassalage,
Are from the firme earth rent and ouer-borne
In Fords where pibbles lay secure beforne.
Low'd Cataracts, and fearefull roarings now
Affright the Passenger; vpon his brow
Continuall bubbles like compelled drops,
And where (as now and then) he makes short stops
In little pooles drowning his voice too hie,
'Tis where he thinkes he heares his Walla cry.
Yet vaine was all his haste, bending a way,
Too much declining to the Southerne Sea,
Since she had turned thence, and now begun
To crosse the braue path of the glorious Sun.
There lyes a Vale extended to the North
Of Tauy's streame, which (prodigall) sends forth
In Autumne more rare fruits then haue beene spent
In any greater plot of fruitfull Kent.
Two high brow'd rocks on either side begin,
As with an arch to close the valley in:
Vpon their rugged fronts short writhen Oakes
Vntouch'd of any fellers banefull stroakes:
The Iuy twisting round their barkes hath fed
Past time wilde Goates which no man followed.
Low in the Valley some small Heards of Deere,
For head and footmanship withouten peere,
Fed vndisturb'd. The Swaines that thereby thriu'd
By the tradition from their Sires deriu'd,
Call'd it sweet Ina's Coombe: but whether she
Were of the earth or greater progeny
Iudge by her deedes; once this is truely knowne
She many a time hath on a Bugle blowne,
And through the Dale pursu'd the iolly Chase,
As she had bid the winged windes a base.
Pale and distracted hither Walla runs,
As closely follow'd as she hardly shuns;
Her mantle off, her haire now too vnkinde
Almost betrai'd her with the wanton winde.
Breathlesse and faint she now some drops discloses,
As in a Limbeck the kinde sweat of Roses,
Such hang vpon her brest, and on her cheekes;
Or like the Pearles which the tand Æthiop seekes.
The Satyre (spur'd with lust) still getteth ground,
And longs to see his damn'd intention crown'd.
As when a Greyhound (of the rightest straine)
Let slip to some poore Hare vpon the plaine;
He for his prey striues, th' other for her life;
And one of these or none must end the strife.
Now seemes the Dog by speed and good at bearing
To haue her sure; the other euer fearing
Maketh a sodaine turne, and doth deferre
The Hound a while from so neere reaching her:
Yet being fetcht againe and almost tane,
Doubting (since touch'd of him) she scapes her bane:
So of these two the minded races were,
For Hope the one made swift, the other Feare.
O if there be a powre (quoth Walla then
Keeping her earnest course) o'reswaying men
And their desires! ô let it now be showne
Vpon this Satyre halfe part earthly knowne.
What I haue hitherto with so much care
Kept vndefiled, spotlesse, white and faire,
What in all speech of loue I still reseru'd,
And from it's hazard euer gladly sweru'd;
O be it now vntouch'd! and may no force
That happy Iewell from my selfe deuorce!
I that haue euer held all women be
Void of all worth if wanting chastitie;
And who so any lets that best flowre pull,
She might be faire, but neuer beautifull:
O let me not forgoe it! strike me dead!
Let on these Rocks my limbs be scattered!
Burne me to ashes with some powrefull flame,
And in mine owne dust bury mine owne name,
Rather then let me liue and be defil'd.
Chastest Diana! in the Deserts wilde,
Haue I so long thy truest handmaid beene?
Vpon the rough rocke-ground thine arrowes keene,
Haue I (to make thee crownes) beene gath'ring still
Faire-cheekt Etesia's yealow Cammomill?
And sitting by thee on our flowrie beds
Knit thy torne Buck-stals with well twisted threds,
To be forsaken? O now present be,
If not to saue, yet helpe to ruine me!
If pure Virginitie haue heretofore
By the Olympicke powres beene honour'd more
Then other states; and Gods haue beene dispos'd
To make them knowne to vs, and still disclos'd
To the chaste hearing of such Nymphs as we
Many a secret and deepe misterie;
If none can lead without celestiall aid
Th' immaculate and pure life of a Maid,
O let not then the Powres all-good diuine
Permit vile lust to soile this brest of mine!
Thus cride she as she ran: and looking backe
Whether her hot pursuer did ought slacke
His former speed, she spies him not at all,
And somewhat thereby cheer'd gan to recall
Her nye fled hopes: yet fearing he might lye
Neere some crosse path to worke his villanie,
And being weary, knowing it was vaine
To hope for safety by her feet againe,
She sought about where she her selfe might hide.
A hollow vaulted Rocke at last she spide,
About whose sides so many bushes were,
She thought securely she might rest her there.
Farre vnder it a Caue, whose entrance streight
Clos'd with a stone-wrought dore of no mean weight;
Yet from it selfe the gemels beaten so
That little strength could thrust it to and fro.
Thither she came, and being gotten in
Barr'd fast the darke Caue with an iron pin.
The Satyre follow'd, for his cause of stay
Was not a minde to leaue her, but the way
Sharpe ston'd and thornie, where he pass'd of late,
Had cut his clouen foot, and now his gate
Was not so speedy, yet by chance he sees
Through some small glade that ran between the trees
Where Walla went. And with a slower pace
Fir'd with hot blood, at last attain'd the place.
When like a fearefull Hare within her Forme,
Hearing the Hounds come like a threatning storme,
In full cry on the walke where last she trode,
Doubts to stay there, yet dreads to goe abroad:
So Walla far'd. But since he was come nie,
And by an able strength and industry
Sought to breake in, with teares anew she fell
To vrge the Powres that on Olympus dwell.
And then to Ina call'd: O if the roomes,
The Walkes and Arbours in these fruitfull coombes
Haue famous beene through all the Westerne Plaines
In being guiltlesse of the lasting staines
Pour'd on by lust and murther: keepe them free!
Turne me to stone, or to a barked tree,
Vnto a Bird, or flowre, or ought forlorne;
So I may die as pure as I was borne.
“Swift are the prayers and of speedy haste,
“That take their wing from hearts so pure and chaste.
“And what we aske of Heauen it still appeares
“More plaine to it in mirrours of our teares.
Approu'd in Walla. When the Satyre rude
Had broke the doore in two, and gan intrude
With steps prophane into that sacred Cell,
Where oft (as I haue heard our Shepherds tell)
Faire Ina vs'd to rest from Phœbus ray:
She or some other hauing heard her pray,
Into a Fountaine turn'd her; and now rise
Such streames out of the caue, that they surprise
The Satyre with such force and so great din,
That quenching his lifes flame as well as sin,
They roul'd him through the Dale with mighty rore
And made him flye that did pursue before.
Not farre beneath i'the Valley as she trends
Her siluer streame, some Wood-nymphs and her friends
That follow'd to her aide, beholding how
A Brooke came gliding, where they saw but now
Some Herds were feeding, wondring whence it came:
Vntill a Nymph that did attend the game
In that sweet Valley, all the processe told,
Which from a thicke-leau'd-tree she did behold:
See, quoth the Nymph, where the rude Satyre lies
Cast on the grasse; as if she did despise
To haue her pure waues soyl'd with such as he:
Retaining still the loue of puritie.
To Tauy's Crystall streame her waters goe,
As if some secret power ordained so,
And as a Maid she lou'd him, so a Brooke
To his imbracements onely her betooke.
Where growing on with him, attain'd the state
Which none but Hymens bonds can imitate.
On Walla's brooke her sisters now bewaile,
For whom the Rocks spend teares when others faile,
And all the Woods ring with their piteous mones:
Which Tauy hearing as he chid the stones,
That stopt his speedy course, raising his head
Inquir'd the cause, and thus was answered:
Walla is now no more. Nor from the hill
Will she more plucke for thee the Daffadill,
Nor make sweet Anadems to gird thy brow,
Yet in the Groues she runs, a Riuer now.
Looke as the feeling

Sentida.

Plant (which learned Swaines
Relate to grow on the East Indian Plaines)
Shrinkes vp his dainty leaues, if any sand
You throw thereon, or touch it with your hand:
So with the chance the heauy Wood-nymphs told,
The Riuer (inly touch'd) began to fold
His armes acrosse, and while the torrent raues,
Shrunke his graue head beneath his siluer waues.
Since when he neuer on his bankes appeares
But as one franticke: when the clouds spend teares
He thinkes they of his woes compassion take,
(And not a Spring but weepes for Walla's sake)
And then he often (to bemone her lacke)
Like to a mourner goes, his waters blacke,
And euery Brooke attending in his way,
For that time meets him in the like aray.
Here Willy that time ceas'd; and I a while:
For yonder's Roget comming o're the stile,
'Tis two daies since I saw him (and you wonder,
You'le say, that we haue beene so long asunder).
I thinke the louely Heardesse of the Dell
That to an Oaten Quill can sing so well,
Is she that's with him: I must needs goe meet them,
And if some other of you rise to greet them
'Twere not amisse, the day is now so long
That I ere night may end another Song.