Amorea, The Lost Lover Or The Idea of Love and Misfortune. Being Poems, Sonets, Songs, Odes, Pastoral, Elegies, Lyrick Poems, and Epigrams. Never before printed. Written by Pathericke Jenkin |
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A Pastorall Poem.
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A Pastorall Poem.
Phylacona having early(In a morning that had fairly
Promis'd the ensuing day
All the glory of the May)
With a mellancholly pace
Come at Length unto the place,
That for Phylaconas love,
Called was the Goddess grove,
Here she used still and wholy,
For to treat her Mellancolly;
Here she entertain'd her sadness,
Though the place did promise gladness,
For there was the loving Vine,
With the stately growing Pine,
Ranks of Cedars there were seen,
And the Lawrell, Forrests Queen,
Next the Cipress, and the Yew
Did present themselves to vew,
There a Bow'r of Kear is made,
Here a lovely Mertle shade,
With the Ivy and the Bayes
That do crown the Poets Layes
Here the Poplar, there the Thorne
Which hath Phylamela born
And in every tree there stood,
The Musitions of the wood,
Starlin, Lennet, and the Thrush,
Crown'd the top of every bush;
Underneath was to be seen,
(Running through) a spangled green
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All enamelled with flowers;
As if Nature meant to show
What her art was able do;
Was a brook or little River,
Which did seem for to deliver
In its Language all the story,
Of that Nymphs Eternall glory,
Who (as Poets have Inserted)
Was into a stream converted.
Heer She used to retyre,
And the very same desire.
To be private in his Sorrow
Made her shepherd bid goodmorrow
To his sleeping, and to rise,
Shaking Slumber from his eyes,
“Sorrow would not let him stay
“For to entertain the day,
“But commanded him away
And to the grove did fortune hurry
Him, as she began her story:
When she thither was arived
Being of all joyes deprived,
Only taken up with care.
This sad voice did reach his eare,
Which at first he had neglected,
Being with his greif-affected,
Yet because he would not be
Taxed for discourtesie;
Round about him as he pried,
The sad Nymph he had espied
Who her tender limbs had laid
On a mantle that was spred,
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“Of the flower-paved walkes and night
“To the River did she lie.
And because he thought her fate
To his sadness did relate,
He supposing that her care
In his Sorrows had a share,
Out of Curiositie
Hid himself behind a tree;
Thus the Nymph being on the ground
After she had looked rownd,
Thinking on her present feares
Thus began her tail with tears;
Who can better tell then I,
To deplor the destiny
Of a sad forsaken Maid,
Only by my self betrayed,
I that in the height of life
When the Graces were at strife
Which should have the greatest prise
Language, carriage, voice, or eyes,
I who ever have been Courted
With the noblest, and consorted
With the most Gentieler sort,
And knew nothing but the Court
Nothing then could please me better
Then to read an humble Letter,
Such as Lovers do present
All compos'd of Complement,
Thus when I shall call to minde
What is past I then do finde
All the happy hours are spent
Which to youth are incident,
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Harbour in unsetled youth,
Yet when I shall think upon
The forsaken Espilon
(VVho by his disloyalty
Hath so disobleiged me)
Needs I must declare his worth:
VVith which words he steped forth,
Knowing this the first time
For to vindecate his crime,
VVith heavy pace and look
Being come unto the brook
After he himself had seated,
His excuse he thus repeated,
Madam if your very Servant
Have not still with wishes servant
Prosecuted your affection,
Never give my love protection,
Only you to have enjoyed
Be both wish and love destroyed
Or if ever I have loved
More then you your self Approved,
May my Love be still neglected,
And my falsness be dedected,
May my heart be ever grived,
May my vowes be not believed,
If I do not thee desire,
Then let heart and vowes expire;
Therefore dearest---
Here his hands would fain have brooken
Truce, if that she had not spoken
And her angry commands
Did forbid his longing hands,
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Leave me, least I justly fear,
That your carriage will deceive me;
Yet for this I do forgive thee,
But be sure you are not quitted,
For the punishment is fitted,
You forever shall be banish'd;
Saying so, away she vanish'd,
Like an airy broken bubble,
Leaving him unto his trouble,
VVhereunto this Pastorall tended,
No man knows, for here it ended.
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