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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THIRSIS' PRAISE OF HIS MISTRESSE. |
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 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
282
THIRSIS' PRAISE OF HIS MISTRESSE.
On a hill that grac'd the plaine
Thirsis sate, a comely Swaine,
Comelier Swaine nere grac'd a hill:
Whilst his Flocke that wandred nie,
Cropt the green grasse busilie,
Thus he tun'd his Oaten quill:
Thirsis sate, a comely Swaine,
Comelier Swaine nere grac'd a hill:
Whilst his Flocke that wandred nie,
Cropt the green grasse busilie,
Thus he tun'd his Oaten quill:
Ver hath made the pleasant field
Many seu'rall odours yeeld,
Odors aromaticall:
From faire Astra's cherrie lip,
Sweeter smells for euer skip,
They in pleasing passen all.
Many seu'rall odours yeeld,
Odors aromaticall:
From faire Astra's cherrie lip,
Sweeter smells for euer skip,
They in pleasing passen all.
Leauie Groues now mainely ring,
With each sweet birds sonnetting,
Notes that make the Eccho's long:
But when Astra tunes her voyce,
All the mirthfull birds reioyce,
And are list'ning to her Song.
With each sweet birds sonnetting,
Notes that make the Eccho's long:
But when Astra tunes her voyce,
All the mirthfull birds reioyce,
And are list'ning to her Song.
Fairely spreads the Damaske Rose,
Whose rare mixture doth disclose
Beauties pensills cannot faine.
Yet if Astra passe the bush,
Roses haue beene seen to blush
She doth all their beauties staine.
Whose rare mixture doth disclose
Beauties pensills cannot faine.
Yet if Astra passe the bush,
Roses haue beene seen to blush
She doth all their beauties staine.
Phœbus, shining bright in skie,
Gilds the floods, heates mountaines hie
With his beames all quick'ning fire:
Astra's eyes (most sparkling ones)
Strikes a heat in hearts of stones,
And enflames them with desire.
Gilds the floods, heates mountaines hie
With his beames all quick'ning fire:
283
Strikes a heat in hearts of stones,
And enflames them with desire.
Fields are blest with flowrie wreath,
Ayre is blest when she doth breath,
Birds make happy eu'ry Groue,
She, each Bird, when she doth sing:
Phœbus heate to Earth doth bring,
She makes Marble fall in loue.
Ayre is blest when she doth breath,
Birds make happy eu'ry Groue,
She, each Bird, when she doth sing:
Phœbus heate to Earth doth bring,
She makes Marble fall in loue.
Those blessings of the earth we Swaines doe call,
Astra can blesse those blessings, earth and all.
Astra can blesse those blessings, earth and all.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |