University of Virginia Library

AN ODE.

Nights were short, and daies were long;
Blossoms on the Hauthorn's hung:
Philomæle (Night-Musiques King)
Tolde the comming of the spring.
Whose sweete siluer-sounding voice
Made the little birds reioice:
Skipping light from spray to spray,
Till Aurora shew'd the day.
Scarce might one see, when I might see
(For such chaunces sudden bee)
By a well of Marble-stone,
A Shepheard lying all alone.
Weepe he did; and his weeping
Made the fading flowers spring.
Daphnis was his name (I weene)
Youngest Swaine of Summers Queene.
VVhen Aurora saw t'was he.
Weepe she did for companie:
Weepe she did for her sweete sonne,
That (when antique Troy was wonne)
Suffer'd death by lucklesse fate,
Whom she now laments too late:
And each morning (by Cocks crew)
Showers downe her siluer dew.
Whose teares (falling from their spring)
Giue moysture to each liuing thing,
That on earth increase and grow,
Through power of their friendlie foe.
Whose effect when Flora felt,
Teares, that did her bosome melt,
(For who can resist teares often,
But Shee whom no teares can soften?)
Peering straite aboue the banks,
Shew'd herselfe to giue her thanks.
Wondring thus at Natures worke,
(Wherein many maruailes lurke)
Me thought I heard a dolefull noise,
Consorted with a mournfull voice,
Drawing nie to heare more plaine,
Heare I did, vnto my paine,
(For who is not pain'd to heare
Him in griefe whom heart holdes deare?)
Silly swaine (with griefe ore-gone)
Thus to make his piteous mone.
Loue I did, (alas the while)
Loue I did, but did beguile
My deare loue with louing so,
(VVhom as then I did not know.)
Loue I did the fairest boy,
That these fields did ere enioy.
Loue I did faire Ganymed;
(Venus darling, beauties bed:)
Him I thought the fairest creature;
Him the quintessence of Nature:
But yet (alas) I was deceiu'd,
(Loue of reason is bereau'd)
For since then I saw a Lasse,
(Lasse) that did in beauty passe,
(Passe) faire Ganymede as farre
As Phœbus doth the smallest starre.
Loue commaunded me to loue;
Fancy bade me not remoue
My affection from the swaine
Whom I neuer could obtaine:
(For who can obtaine that fauour,
Which he cannot graunt the crauer?)
Loue at last (though loath) preuailde;
(Loue) that so my heart assailde;
Wounding me with her faire eies,
(Ah how Loue can subtelize,
And deuize a thousand shifts,
How to worke men to his drifts)
Her it is, for whom I mourne;
Her, for whom my life I scorne;
Her, for whom I weepe all day;
Her, for whom I sigh, and say,
Either She, or els no creature,
Shall enioy my loue: whose feature
Though I neuer can obtaine,
Yet shall my true loue remaine:
Till (my body turn'd to clay)
My poore soule must passe away,
To the heauens; where (I hope)
Hit shall finde a resting scope:
Then since I loued thee (alone)
Remember me when I am gone.
Scarce had he these last words spoken,
But me thought his heart was broken;
With great griefe that did abound,
(Cares and griefe the heart confound)
In whose heart (thus riu'd in three)
Eliza written I might see:
In Caracters of crimson blood,
(VVhose meaning well I vnderstood.)
VVhich, for my heart might not behold,
I hyed me home my sheepe to folde.