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The Third Dayes Creation

By that most excellent, learned, and diuine Poet, VVilliam, Lord Bartas. Done verse for verse out of the originall French by Thomas VVinter
 

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The third Day of the first Weeke of the most excellent, learned, and diuine Poet, William, Lord Bartas.
 
 
 
 
 
 


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The third Day of the first Weeke of the most excellent, learned, and diuine Poet, William, Lord Bartas.

My Muse that whilome ouer-topt each spheare,
Whose course life-giuing influence doth beare;
That in so braue a stile discours'd of Winds,
And ayrie meteors frighting silly minds:
And did of sulphur'd-lightning stormes intreate,
And made her verse so graue a path to beate:
Creeping to day on the base elements,
Must cloath her speech with base habiliments:
Where if by chaunce she sing a loftie straine,
She's lifted higher by the swelling Maine.
Great King of earth, and of the liquide plaine,
Whose very breath doth dreadfully constraine
The sturdiest hils to quake, and oft exaults
The stormie waues vp to the starrie vaults:
Grant that my measuring skill may well suruay,
The fleeting and firme element this Day.
Grant that my learned verse may well discouer
The nature of the sea, and of our Mother:
That with a flowring stile I may pourtray
The flowers, that cloath the earth with rich array.
All those high hils, whose forked tops do border
Vpon the clouds, that wander in disorder,
Did hide their bossed backes vnder the floud,
Which on the earth a pudled marish stood;

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When heau'ns great King, desiring liberally
T'enfeoffe vs with this low worlds Empirie,
Gaue charge, that Neptune should the waters gather,
And shew the earth, which but a litle rather
They had ore-whelm'd; and be content with pleasure,
That one whole day he had this All in seazure.
Iust as the heauens showring teares adowne,
And froathie flouds hiding the plainer ground,
Do make the fields a sea; then ceassing spoile,
Inuisibly forsakes the furrowed soile,
Ploude by the painefull oxe; and seemes to drinke
It selfe, and to some channell straight to shrinke:
So doth the sea this day leaue his possession
Of mountaines, knoles, and fields by retrogression.
And in the wombe of a lasse continent,
Tuns vp with speed that watrie element.
Whether at first the light by God created,
Had store of this moyst humor eleuated
Vnto such places, as ther highest were,
Of which he might next day make euery sphære:
Or whether the Almightie had created
New roomes, to which these waters were translated:
Or opening the poales of hill and plaine,
Would hide some arme of that so spacious maine:
Or whether thickening their thinner smother,
That like a cloake of cloudes this All did couer,
He did imprison them within their bankes,
Gainst which the Ocean playes his daring prankes,
Yet dares not to transgresse: for Gods owne might,
Kenning their nature mutinous and light,
Thus bridled them, and gainst their fierce brauadoes,
Made of the flower-clad earth his barricadoes:

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So that sometimes the fleeting hils which roare,
And threaten to orewhelme the bordring shoare,
Do wast in froath, and breaking neare the brim,
Dare not beyond their watrie dwelling swim.
And what could herein be impossible
To this high Admirall, whose terrible
And powerfull voice did riue the depths in twaine,
To saue his flocke; and made the ruddie maine
Hang in the ayre? that forced Iordans course
Backe to retire toward his double source?
That drown'd the world become deuoid of good?
That made the rocke gush foorth a litle floud?
Lo then the waters crooked circling path,
An Iland of this world yformed hath:
As boyling lead pour'd on a place vnplaine,
Doth diuers formes and sundrie fashions gaine,
Here runneth straight, there windeth like a snake,
Here breaking hands, there hands againe doth take,
And in an instant makes his small hote riuers,
Within the mould to shew themselues so diuers:
So God did spread the waters on the ground,
In steeple forme, croysure, and figure round,
Crooked and square, that in the water cleare,
The earth might farre more rich and faire appeare.
Such is the Germaine arme, the bay of Ganges,
The Gulfe of Persia, and the sea that ranges
By Happie Arabie, such the whole Ocean
That parts in three this All by od proportion.
And though that euerie arme how long soeuer,
Compar'd vnto the whole be but a riuer:
Yet makes a hundred seas in course and name,
By's nookes and crookes, the water still the same:

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To slake the thirstie drinesse of the plaines,
With welcome moisture of their secret veines:
To rampire in the nations, and to daunt
The proudest champion Princes when they vaunt:
To confine kingdomes with eternall borders,
To ease the trauell of the trading orders,
Shortning their way, the wind helping to get,
Within a month from th'East to the Sun-set.
Nor doth the earth giue to the sea alone
These bigger armes; she giues the riuer Don,
And Nilus, Egypts store house, which doth hide
Himselfe so often in the deserts wide.
She giues the Rhene, Danubius, and Euphrates,
Proud Tigris, issue of the hill Niphates,
Broad Ganges riuer of such ample fame,
That Easterne India takes of it her name:
The golden Tagus, Thames, Mariza, Rhone,
Tartarian Rha, Po, Seina, and Garone:
Garone, whose name shall sound so in my verse,
As shall perchance ring through the Vniuerse.
She giues Parana yeelding siluer matter,
Great Darien which doth new Castile water:
Maraignon too, flouds of that new-found All,
Which men for wealth the Golden land may call.
The fruitfull earth from her doth draw her streames,
And all the water running in her veines:
Which she (not thanklesse) doth in time and place,
Repay both wayes, as it receiued was.
For as the Lembicke heated, oft doth hap
T'exhale a vapor to his vpmost cap;
And wanting meanes to draw that fragrant sweat
Higher, doth gently thicken it, and let

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That cleare as christall humor drop by drop,
Replenish the receiuer to the top:
So the thin humor of the brinie streames
Is drawne into the aire by sunnie beames,
Which turn'd to water showres it downe, and maketh
That to the sea through th'earth a course it taketh.
For the drie earth this falling water straines
Through the thin boulter of her hollow veines,
Then makes it way, and from the rockie mountaines,
Makes bubble daily millions of fountaines;
Of these the litle gurgling brookes do grow,
Which ioyn'd do make the wasting torrents flow,
The wasting torrents do proud riuers forme,
Of which the sailing floud is eftsoones borne.
The snowie hils that border neare the skie,
Vnto this grouth contribute willingly:
For Titans taske begun anew, at times
Which bring the faire spring to the colder climes,
He melts vpon their backes the heapes of snow;
Their tops turne greene, each where the waters flow
Tumbling, and bubling as they froathing runne
Along steepe trackes of craggie mountaine stone,
They make a hundred torrents, one of which
Seeing his brother ouergo him mich,
Hastens his course to make with him an vnion,
Whiles that a third and fourth help their communion;
Running the same carier, and quickly drowne
Their names and selues in streames of more renowne.
Those streames of some great riuer are deuoured,
Which ouerswaying fields, at length is powred
Into that Rendez-vous, where God assigned
They should discharge the taxes they were fined.

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Yet all these riuers running to the sea,
Do not a whit enlarge that watrie Lea:
For besides that these flonds heap't all t'one top,
Compar'd to it, are lesse then one poore drop:
Yet doth the Sunne and Æolus his race,
Sweeping eftsoones great Neptunes sweating face,
Exhale as much from that broad wauing field,
As th'aire and earth vnto the same do yeeld.
But as the quaking heate, and shiuering cold,
And gnashing teeth which do the feavrous hold,
Come not hap-hazard, but in time and order,
Bring the weake trembling members in disorder.
So doth the sea by fits approach to lond,
And coming to, forsakes againe the strond.
Whether the sea moued with Gods right hand,
Tooke first this motion, and may not stand
Idle not any while from's mouing course;
Like as a whirlegig once turn'd, doth force
It selfe to moue around, and vertue takes
From him that formerly the motion makes.
Or that the sea which men the Midland call,
Be but a parcell of that liquide All,
Whose waues falling into some higher ocean,
Do dash themselues in their so angrie motion
Against the rockie hils, whose solid strength,
Quelling their force, makes them recueile at length.
Or that the Moone, whose influence aboue
Ruling moist bodies, cause it so to moue.
And to speake truth, we see the sea to flow,
When on our Hemisphære the Moone doth show:
And suddenly to ebbe, when toward Spaine
The Cressant takes her backward course againe.

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Againe soone as her face, constant in changing,
Encreasing shew's th'Antipodes her ranging,
It marches foorth, and when her waning fire
Doth passe the other noone, it doth retire.
Yea which is more, the Midland sea, we know,
Doth farther then the Tuscane ocean flow:
Or that hight Bosphorus: and no such motion
Doth stirre some duller places of the ocean:
Because the siluer Planet, which will haue
Rule of the flowing and the ebbing waue,
With lesser force doth shed her influence
Vpon a sea, where the circumference
Is mountainous, or streightened twixt two stronds,
Then where the ocean seemes to want such bonds.
As in the Sommer, if the windie traine
Of AEolus be calme, with lesser paine
The Delphian flame the champion fields doth drie,
Then dales immur'd with hils and mountaines hie.
If so this fluxe do shew it selfe more plaine
Hard by the shoare, then in the deeper maine:
The pulse (Natures true clocke) it doth resemble,
Whose extreame part more then the mid doth tremble;
At least it seemes so. Now the starrie king
Is equall to the queene, in gouerning
The waters. For his hote light-giuing beames,
Scorching the fishie vessel-bearing streames,
And sucking vp in's each dayes iournement,
The sweeter iuice of that cold element:
Leaues tart and thickened liquor in the Deepe,
With salt that on the vpmost top doth fleet.
But see, how heare the sea doth pull me downe
Into deepe seas, where I am like to drowne.

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See how his fluxe makes my words ouerflow.
Well then let's hie to land, that sitting low
Beside the brim of riuer, lake and brooke,
Our thoughts into their strange effects may looke,
Whose maruels nigh exceeding faith and wonder,
Astound our wits, our eyes, our eares like thunder.
The spring of Hamon while the Sun giues light,
Is cold as ice; and contrarie, by night
Though the cold Cressant make the night lesse hot,
Yet boiles and fumes like water in a pot.
Some hold for certaine, that the boughs of wood,
Which being wind-broke, fall into the floud
Of Silaris, or of Eurimedon,
Are turn'd both wood, and barke, and leafe to stone.
Ah, can my verse omit that streame in Iurie,
That euery Sabbath stayes his running furie
Religiously? vnwilling to be pained
That seuenth day, which God for rest ordained.
If so the shepheard chaunt his louely rounds
By th'Eleusina brooke, those musickes sounds
Do make the water boile, and dance and skip,
And point by point the rusticke measures keepe.
Cephis turnes white, Ceron blacke, Xanthus red,
The fleecie troupes which there are watered.
Like an Arabian spring, that bordring neare
To the red sea, turnes red their woolly weare.
You Solan waters, and Andreian riuer,
Whence comes that oyle and wine, which you yeeld euer
Once in a yeare? art thou (O earthie Dame)
So fruitfull? or beneath this worldly frame
Are vines and gardens? and in them do lurke
Men, that for Bacchus and Minerua worke?

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What shall I say of thee Sclauonian spring?
Or what of thee Dodonian fountaine sing?
When one burnes cloth, the other wood doth stench
Halfe burnt, and kindles what it earst did quench.
Faith, I should place these vertues admirable,
In the false Register of euery fable;
Wer't not for due respect, which (young) I giue
To vnreproued Writers that did liue:
And that the greedie Pilots of our daies,
Had not found riuers stranger many wayes.
In this great number of such differing brookes,
Of which a scholer might compile great bookes,
Ile choose farre hence in places harbourlesse,
Some fiue or sixe, as true as held truthlesse.
In th'Ile of Fer, (mong other tis an Ile,
Which men of old with Happie name did stile)
The sauage folke draw not their watrie food,
As others do, from spring or running floud:
Their drinke is in the aire, their waters source
Takes from a weeping tree his dropping course:
A weeping tree growing in a drie field,
Doth make his sweating leaues sweet liquor yeeld:
And (as the vine late cut, more fruite to beare,
Distilleth gently many a pearled teare)
Ceaslesse it droppeth downe a water cleare,
Where round about the people pressen neare,
Yet faile with all the vessels that they bring,
T'exhaust the streames of this one woodden spring.
In Ice-land men do find two wondrous springs,
The one yeelds waxe; the other changeth things
Cast in, to stone, although his water hot,
Regurgeth bubbles, like a boyling pot.

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In golden Peru neare Saint Helens mount,
Defyling pitch doth issue from a fount.
What should I say? this is that new-found All,
Whose riuers running to their Westerne fall,
Know bet then we what right vse should be made
Of working day-time, and the chillie shade
Of th'idle night, and therefore runne by day,
And spend the night in idle resting play.
Great God, I feare I iealous should be counted
Of thy great praise, if there were not recounted
In my vnthankfull verse such streames, as runne
Through Alume, Lime, Salt-peter and Brimstone:
Whose vertues perfect medecines are held,
For maladies that strike vs into eld
In th'Aprill of our age, and with great strife
Would antedate the period of our life.
Now as my Gascoigne is the happiest field
For corne, and wine, and men, the world doth yeeld;
So free-cost baths do there abounden most,
There stranger people flocke from euery coast,
There the drie wombe, the paralyticall,
The gowtie, vlc'rous, deafe, sciaticall,
Comming from East and Westerne parts, do gaine
The speedie cure of their tormenting paine.
Witnesse Barege, Eucausse and the hote vaines
Of Aigue-caud, Caudret and Baigner plaines,
Baigner the beautie, paradise and praise
Of those high hils, on whom in alder dayes
The Hercules of France with child did bring
Pyrene, daughter to the sire and King
Of Gascoins, whose attempts so generous
Shew they deseru'd a sire so valorous.

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The mountaines whited with eternall snow,
Do flanker in a part in stately row.
Th'immortall verdure of a smiling plaine
Excelling Tempe, hemmes it in againe
On th'other side, the houses new appeare,
The verie tiles do shine, a riuer cleare
As Chrystall, so transparantly doth glide
In each streete, that the pauement may be spide:
And though that ycie riuer runne hard by
A bath, that cureth euerie maladie,
It keepes her nature, scorning all desire
To mixe her coolenesse with the others fire.
But all these strange effects match not at all,
Strauge Lers, that from a rockie stone doth fall.
If it be true, that one most rarely wise,
For want of skill the reason to comprise,
How seuen times a day Euripus floweth,
And seuen times t'his ebbing prison goeth;
Egd with despaire, and with great shame confounded,
Drownd him in flouds more fadomed then sounded:
What would he do, if he should beate his braines,
About the spring that waters Masere plaines,
Rising at Belestat, neare th'hill of Fois,
That stores with wood the people of Toloise?
As oft as Phœbus ending his carrier,
Each horizon with welcome light doth cheare,
His burthen-bearing streames months fiue or foure,
Doth runne and stay by turne in each halfe houre;
For one halfe houre you may passe ouer drie,
The other halfe it runnes so stickerly,
As none can passe; his waters as they rise,
The most renowmed streames would equalize:

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A learned streame that doth (Nature her guide)
Without a clocke count euerie time and tide.
Now the great God by his eternall hand,
Most wisely plac'd the water and the land:
For one requiring many moistning drops,
The other chanels, banks and vnderprops,
He enterlin'd them: so that the earth widing
Her bosome to the sea, and the sea gliding
About, throughout, vnder this earthie round,
Both make the perfect center of the Mound.
For if their mingled selues be prou'd to be
Beside the mid of the worlds axeltree,
All climats should not haue the silent night
In equall ballance counterpoise the light.
The ill-deuided horizons decline
Would stretch too farre on one side of the line:
Th'Antipodes or we should see by night
More then sixe signes to shed their glistering light.
No certaine time should shew th'eclipsed Moone,
The heauens deboshd should seasons alter soone.
This doth suffise to shew, that so compound
Into one masse, they yet are fully round,
Which by a turning art made like a ball,
See day and night successiuely to fall.
For Americ, Doue, Pole surnamed Marke,
Nor anie cunning pilot of a barke
One pole to th'other euer could subdue,
Or liuing on the seas find countries new:
Nor euer lose the Northerne starre, to view
The Southerne pole, if so the ocean blew
To fashion with the earth one globie tumor,
Did not each where circle his fleeting humor.

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But (ô thou heauenly workman) whose essayes
Are nere in vaine, what arches, or what stayes
Couldst thou inuent the sea to vnderprop,
That by a downward line it should not drop?
O God, is it, because the watrie masse
Would by his nature to the center passe,
And striuing so the deepest depth to sound,
By falling by a line, remaineth round?
Or is't because the shoares and coasting banks
Captiue the seas within their prouder flanks?
Or is't because the Sea some stay doth winne
By millions of rocks scattered therein?
Or is't alonely thy all-working grace
That makes it thus the tressed earth embrace?
It is thy hand, thy hand (O God) alone,
That firmes with piles mans habitation:
For though it hang in th'aire, or else be found
To swim vpon the sea; though it be round,
And round about it each thing turne, nay more,
Though her foundations haue bene mou'd of yore;
Yet it vnmoued is, that Adams race
Might here obtaine a peacefull biding place.
It is the earth receiues man being borne,
Receiued fosters him; become the scorne
Of other elements, by Natures enmitie,
Her lap yeelds place for his last obsequie.
The aire against vs often doth rebell,
The whelming waters shew their malice fell
Gainst wretched men; gainst men supernall fire
As well as this below displayes his ire:
But of the foure, onely the humble earth
Is mans alone best friend after his birth.

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Tis she alone, that neuer leaues the place,
Which earst was her assigned by thy grace.
Yet is it true, that execrable folke
With their deboshed manners, do prouoke
Thy angrie hand (O Lord) some piece to shake,
Although the totall frame do neuer quake:
Aided with Northerne winds, which being pent
Within her bowels, cause mad rumblement.
Feare chils our hearts and makes our faces pale,
The wind doth stirre the woods without a gale:
High turrets tremble, and th'infernall caue,
Deuoures in choler many a citie braue.
Sith then the earthie and the watrie Round
Is center, heart, and nombrill of the mound;
And that, by reason, nothing closde about
Equals the thing enclosing it without:
Who doubts, but that this earthie watrie spheare
Doth lesse proportion then the others beare?
Iudge who so will; the greatnesse of this round,
Which we admiring, doth vs so astound,
Seemes but a point to that high spheare aboue,
Which forceth all the rest with him to moue:
Sith the least twinkling starre, that with our eye
We see to glitter in the vaulted skye,
(If so Astronomers count not amisse)
Then the whole earth twise nine times greater is.
And if we count all that the Midland maine,
The Indian seas, and all their armes do gaine,
Beside what other riuers do possesse,
Or desert is by heate or colds excesse,
This Little will be nought. Lo here (ô men)
The place, for which you heauen do contemne.

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See with what confines your great'st renomie
Bounds your best actions proudest memorie.
Ye Monarches (thral'd to pride) that for the gaines
Of one haires breadth, hide th'earth with slaughtred swains:
Corrupted Magistrates, that on your chaires
Sell causes as in markets or in faires:
Who traffiquing the Law prophane your states,
To leaue some trifle to your thanklesse brats:
You that do vse vpon vse multiplie,
You that do waights and measures falsifie:
That so for you, the yoaked Oxe may beare
The coulter, that the clodded earth doth teare:
You that do sell your wals; you that would faine
Some inch of land vpon your neighbour gaine,
Mouing by stealth and sacrilegious hands
The markes, that bounded out your grandsires lands:
Alas what get you? When a warlike prince,
By force or fraud shall all the world euince:
A needles point, a moate, an atomie,
Shall be his vertues largest salarie.
A point his Empire, yea a very nought,
Yea lesse then nothing, if that lesse were ought.
When God (whose word doth more of nothing make,
Then all the paines that proudest kings can take)
Had seuerald the flouds, equald the fields;
Sunke downe the valleys, blowen vp the hils;
Change, change (quoth he) ô solid element,
Thy sadder weed t'a greene habilement:
A fragrant flowring girlond be ywreathed
About thy forehead by my fingers weaued.
Display thy periwinke; with finest paint
Embellish now thy bleake and paler taint.

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That from henceforth, thy proper guests alone
May not be fed with plentie of thy wombe:
But that thy stored lap may meate prouide
For people of each element beside:
So that the water, aire, and Angels dwelling
May of thy glorie iealously be telling.
He spake, and straight the Firre that pitch doth drop,
The gummie Larix, Cedar with high top,
And Boxe still greene are plac'd in trouped row,
And on the highest tops of hils do grow.
The acorne-bearing Oake, the Carpie white,
The barke-exchanging Corke, and Elme vpright,
On litle hils and fields do pitch their ranks.
The writhing riuers border out their banks
With sailing Alder, with greene Osier,
With Willow pale, and trembling Popular,
And manie other trees for fewell made,
For building carpentrie, and beasts to shade.
Here hairie Peaches and the Orange golden,
Sweete Apricots, the Quince faire to beholden
With his white downe, vpon their backs they beare
Y written faire Gods all-prouiding care.
Sweet-smelling Apples, Nuts of either kinde,
Idumean Dates, and Peares still apt to binde,
The milkie Figge, the double died Cherrie,
The sugred plumme, the hungrie Oliue berrie,
Present a pleasant spring vnto the eyes,
And make each field a verie Paradise.
Here Pepper graines like clustered Grapes assemble,
There Cynamon doth grow; here Nutmegs tremble
With gentle gales, which do each yeare pouruey
For Bandan ylanders a publike pray.

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There the white sweetnesse of moist sugar, breeds
Within the bowels of Canarie reeds;
There balme in teares doth drop; there the rich wood
Of Saba land weepes fuming incense good.
The louing Vine with winding armes embraceth
Her bearing husband, bout whose stocke she traceth.
The Vine for fairenesse t'other trees inferior,
As she for goodnes is their farre superior:
Her liquor sober-taken rarifies
The spirits, cheares the heart, and purifies
The braines, brings colour, and awaketh
The appetite, cleares passages, and maketh
Fresh heate, pure bloud it breeds and subtilizeth
The grosse, and the duld vnderstanding wiseth,
Expels bad excrements, the bladder cleareth,
Preserues our bodie that to death anneareth.
Though th'earth for sinne, whereby our father old
Banisht his seed from heauen, no longer hold
Her former glorie, hauing grau'd vpon her
Th'eternall makers vndeseru'd dishonor:
Though with the world she strike her selfe in yeares,
Though her fertilitie much lesse appeares,
Like her who bruisd with many a wofull grone
Of bearing child, whose oft-conceiuing wombe
Peopling almost the circuit of a parish,
At length becommeth barren, drie and warish:
Yet doth it yeeld an ample argument,
To praise the author of her ornament.
The pleasing spring doth nere to me propose
The blew-flour'd Flaxe, or the carnation Rose,
The blushing Gellifloure in's purple fold,
The snow-white Lillie, or the Marigold,

18

But I admire the Painter that doth trace
In them more colours, then Aurorae's face,
Or in that Bow, which on the thirstie plaine
Doth promise to shoure downe his fruitfull raine.
God not content t'enrich with wholesome fruites,
Perfume with smels, and cloath with flowrie sutes
The plants; hath in their rootes laid vp in store
A perfect curing salue for euery sore.
Sure without them (death fights so many wayes)
Man should not liue full twentie yeares of dayes:
But (like the flowre of flaxe, that dies in th'wombe
In one selfe day) his cradle should be's tombe,
His spring his winter, and his birth his death.
Good Lord, how many draw their gasping breath
By Stigian bankes, and cur'd by hearbes againe,
Make greedie Pluto lose his hoped gaine!
By them young Phœbus bearded cunning sonne
Restor'd the young man, that to death was done,
That did preferre, in modest chastitie,
His death before incestuous venerie.
Medea by their iuice, to please her Iason,
Made young againe cold and old-aged Æson.
You hearbs that do our life in life maintaine,
And when tis gone do call it backe againe:
Tis not your iuice dispersed in your veines,
That cures alone so many deadly paines:
But your meere smell, your onely being by,
Gainst many daungers doth vs fortifie,
Working such wonders as exceede beliefe,
Vnlesse the hand and eyes do know the priefe.
He that about his necke doth suckorie bind,
It doth expell the mists that make vs blind;

19

So Swines-bread hung, doth not alonely bring
Long trauell to a quicke deliuering;
But more, if one with child do passe secure
Ouer the root, she's forced to endure
Abortment there: th'vnwholesome scorching blast,
Th'envenimd glasse, nay poison creeping fast,
That so dispeoples all Cyrenia land,
Hurts not the man hath Mug-wort in his hand.
The Pionie tied to an infants necke,
It giues vnto that cruell Ill the checke,
That tamed Hercules. If in thy braine
God Bacchus chance excessiuely to raigne,
Cirkle thy front with Saffron gatherd new,
And thou shalt sodainely that storme subdew.
The Syrens with their subtil-charming rimes,
The dankish noysome gales from Southerne climes,
Hurt not at all, those that alonely vse,
Betweene their teeth Angelica to bruse:
A heauenly simple by an Angell brought,
As both the name and force thereof haue taught.
So Burnet held within the hand, doth stop
The fluxe of bloud which from the sicke doth drop.
And so his vrine redly shall be varied,
That in his fist hath madder long time caried.
The force of Woad is strange, which they that touch,
Do make the colour of their humors such.
You Plants, your force doth not alone extend
To men; but your strange force doth make to bend
The fiercest creatures, and the Iron strong,
The legions blacke of the infernall throng,
The brightest lampes of heauen, if all be right,
That of Thessalian sorceries men write.

20

The Libbards-bane touch'd doth of sense depriue
The chequerd Scorpion, that was earst aliue:
As Lingwort touch'd reuiues the force,
Which smotherd was in the dead-seeming corps.
Serpents which Betonie compasd around,
Aduance their wrathfull heads aboue the ground,
They hisse alowd, and from their fire-red eyes
The flames of burning candles seeme to rise;
They stemme each other, breake their long allyance,
And wrathfully do make to each defyance.
With furious onset they together bring
Poison gainst poison, sting against a sting:
Their bloud doth soile the blew-green-yellow groūds,
Their bodies couerd are with deadly wounds;
Nay but one wound; and onely death so cruell
Can from their firie feud withdraw the fewell.
As this dissolues the knots of amitie,
So Water-sage doth stint the enmitie
Of fighting Genets, if some carefull eye,
The same vnto their collars chance to tye.
If so a Hogge out of a trough do feed
Made of the Tamarix, his milt with speed
Doth wast; as if his teeth did lately bruise
Milt-wast, that cunningly doth know to choose
By vertue strange among the bowels all
The milt, and hungerly thereon doth fall.
Shall I stay here? the jades that feeding go
Vpon the ground where Lunarie doth grow
Their wondring maister then away doth ride
Vnshod. Moonwort, where dost that Loadstone hide,

21

That doth the yron keepe in humble awe?
Moonwort, where are thy pincers that do draw
So cunningly the yron? where dost lay
That marshals hand that sweetly puls away
Their nailes? What locke can serue t'exclude
Your craftie skill, if so a horse well shood,
Pacing along where you your growing haue,
Cannot be sure his nailes from you to saue?
But I do thinke, the world doth not bring forth
On hils or dales a plant of rarer worth,
Then Dittanie, which eaten by the Deere,
Doth not his wounded side from danger cleare
Alone; but backwardly doth daft
Vnto the Archer his life-wounding shaft.
What should I say? O God, is't not thy worke,
That men may see in euery turfe to lurke
A thousand other plants, each place t'adorne,
Diffring in colour, in effect, in forme?
And that each one pul'd timely from the ground,
Doth poyson one, and make another sound.
Th'hearbe Ferula brings beeues to deadly passe,
And yet is wholesome for the drudging Asse.
Hemlocke to Stares is right commodious,
But vnto man is poison odious.
The Rose of Daphne mules doth euer kill,
But vnto man is counter-poison still.
What is to man more poysonfull and vile,
Then that fell weed which Libbards-bane we stile?
And yet his iuice doth cure that burning smart,
That from a Serpents taile would thrill our heart.
O valiant poyson! ô couragious iuice!
Proud liquor! plant full of disdainfull vse!

22

That kils vnhelped, scornes his force to show
Gainst vs, if any succour neare he know.
A poyson giuing health, if so he spie
Some other poison in vs; then he'le trie
His force against it, and with secret spite,
Euen hand to hand most cruelly they fight,
So long they combat, and so strong they striue,
That they both die, that man may scape aliue.
Briefly, be it in fields abroad I walke,
Climbe vp the hils, or in the woods do stalke,
God is each where, from him comes each things store,
He nought but giues, and I take euermore.
Here for my food the haruest fields do waue
Their tops; and here a thousand flieces braue
(Worthie to make the greatest kings array)
Shake in the silken forrests of Catay.
And here the lower boughs of Malta cottons;
Do garments beare within their tuffed buttons:
Here linnen fine is made of flaxe ykempt,
And sailes and tackling made of hollow hempe:
That caried on the sea with wind and weather,
I may acquaint the East and West together;
And drily passe ouer the watrie lea,
And many a towne may walke vpon the sea.
Here Indian Wheate growes on a loftie reede,
And thrice a yeare fiue hundred graines doth breede;
Which Indian men do drie and bray, and knead,
And bake it into hunger-killing bread.
That puissant voice which built this worldly Round
Doth euer glad vs with his ioyfull sound:
Renewes the world each yeare, and by his strength
Each thing is borne, doth liue, and grow to length.

23

It makes the plough-swaine scatter (not in vaine)
Vpon the crumbled earth his hopefull graine:
Which couerd with the plough and hatch'd with care,
Vnder the labour of the renting share,
It dies to spring; and moistly hote doth tend
Downward his root, vpward his blade to send:
Enriching with his verdure all the plaines,
And cheares the husbandmen with hope of gaines:
The bud growes to an hearbe, th'hearbe to a reede,
The reede an eare, the eare produceth seede:
The eares to saue them from the sparrowes wast,
With bearded eyles is hemd and ramperd fast:
The seed hath cods, that it not fall, nor rot,
Nor blast, by wind, water, or weather hote:
And the soft stemme to beare more bet the seed,
Is vnderpropt as t'were with a new reed.
Reader, excuse me, if thy wondring eye,
So many trees do in my wood espie,
My meadow so beflowr'd, my garden hearbed,
My close so fruitfull, and my field so garbed:
Sith in the Ile of Zebut there's a tree
Surnamed Cocos, which appeares to be
More rich then ought that woods, or hils, or fields,
Or close, or garden, or an orchard yeelds.
Art thirstie? in his bruised leaues is wine,
Hast need of flaxe to make thee linnen fine?
Then take the barke, beate it, and do it twist,
To make thee cloth thereof when ere thou list.
Wouldst thou so soone haue butter? do but clap
Thy greedie teeth into the tender sap.
Dost long for oyle? why that it yeelds also,
If so his fruite be tossed to and fro.

24

Wantst vineger? why all that's to be done,
Is for to lay it in the burning Sunne.
Wilt thou haue sugar? take his pompions ripe,
And coole them in some fresher water pipe.
Tis what thou wilt. I feare when Midas shall
But touch it, t'will become a golden ball.
I thinke that God, to make our ioyes notorious,
The earth so fruitfull, and his name so glorious,
Would nothing else haue made, if the whole frame
Should not haue had lesse beautie by the same.
Now th'earthy surface is not onely drest
With things of price; for in her fruitfull brest
Such treasures heaped are, as by no meane
Can lucre-hunting men make riddance cleane:
As more then all the starres in heauens vault,
Or roaring waues of Amphitrite salt,
Then haruest eares, or branches in the wood,
Then foure-foot beasts or fishes in the floud.
I will conceale the Ieat, Marble and Slat,
Salt Oromen shall this time be forgat:
That mount in Arragon also, whose shiuers
Do season meate for all the mountaine liuers.
I am content that now my booke do passe
Adorn'd with Mercurie, Vermilion, Brasse,
With Orpine, Copper, Siluer, Gold, and Oare,
Antimonie, Lead, Tinne, and Iron stoare.
It pleaseth me t'enchase my worke of gold
With Christall, that each faces life doth hold;
The purple Amethist, th'Agate of name
So diuers, and the Diamond of rich fame,
The Cassidon faire circled to be seene,
The Opall, Sardonix and Emraud greene,

25

Hard Topaze, with the Carbuncle that burneth,
Although the fire his substance neuer turneth.
I know the earth seemes to a wretched wight
No mother, but stepmother full of spite;
Because she brings foorth, to our litle good,
Care-bringing gold and iron shedding bloud:
As if mans malice made not vice abound,
But these vnfaultie mettals of the ground.
Like as th'alluring treasured gold doth kill
Both soule and bodie of the man that's ill,
So gold doth vertue guild, and giues vs wings
Wherewith t'aspire vnto the fairest things.
Man well aduis'd with iron serues his turne
To plow the field, that (thankfull) yeelds him corne:
For to defend his countrie and his life,
From stranger tyrannie and ciuill knife.
But wicked men do neuer iron take,
But for hell furies weapons of it make,
To spoile the passenger, to kill his brother,
To wast his countrie, massacre his mother.
Like drunkards that abuse a gift diuine,
And drowne their reason in a cup of wine:
As corrupt Lawyers with their eloquence
Do palliate vice, and burden innocence:
As Preachers false Gods word do often vse,
When they the hearers fouly do abuse:
For as the mustie vessell that doth stinke,
Depriues of smell God-Bacchus richest drinke:
So Gods best gifts are turn'd to vile excesse
Of vice, when vicious men do them possesse.
Shall I the Load-stone passe, that dead-aliue
My reason doth of reason selfe depriue?

26

Magnesian praise, vndrawing drawing stone,
Whose Lure is secret, and his hooke vnknowne,
His baites and grapples are insensible;
His lines vnseene, his hands inuisible
Draw distant iron; and is nere at rest,
Till with a longed kisse his hope be blest,
Nay with embracement; and knowes not the force
(O loyall mind) of vncoupling diuorce,
Vnlesse we them disioyne: such tender loue
This stone and iron towards each do proue.
And though a put-betweene barre their desire,
It puts not our their in-bred louing fire:
But towards one another leape they will,
At least by signes confirming their good will.
Good God, who can conceiue, why that a ring
But touch't therewith should straight his fellow bring?
That second draw a third, that third another,
And that pull after his fifth iron brother?
Good Lord, whence comes this vertue, that doth cause
That one vntoucht must follow th'others lawes?
That knit and bound and glued they should be,
Where neither glue, nor knot, nor coard we see?
Disprouing reason, holding no compound
Can hang in th'aire, not falling to the ground.
Now I know well, that he whose cunning wit
With Latine weeds the Grecians skill did fit,
And from his wife receiu'd that deadly drinke,
Wherewith t'augment his loue she (foole) did thinke,
Doth striue to shew, by many a subtill reason,
The reason of this sympathie so geason.
But (Lucrece) tell whence comes that vertue forth,
That turnes the compasse-needle to the North

27

Toucht by this stone? faile not in this essay,
And I will crowne thy head with verdant bay,
And say in Natures secrets thou speakst truer,
Then thy Empedocles, or Epicure.
Bacchus for wine, Ceres for come do bind
No faster vnto their deserts mankind,
Then Flauus, when he first did bring to light
The compasse-needle, for the sailing wight.
His braue inuention guides on watrie rudges,
The caricke that so slowly onward drudges:
Serues for a cresset-light, and for a guide
To search all corners of the earth so wide?
It makes a ship, enforced by the wind,
Almost a new world in one day to find,
To marke the clime, and pricke vpon the card,
How farre from th'Æquinoctiall they are squard.
But th'earth doth not deserue this glorious name,
For things that grow alone vpon the same,
Or in her bowels; but her proper merit
To sing her praise inuites my thankfull spirit.
I call to witnesse such as haue made proofe
With profit, for their feebled healths behoofe,
Of th'earth of Chios, and of Selia,
Of that of Erithrie and Melia.
Haile mother Earth, that bearest men and corne,
Gold, houses, health, fruites, garments to be worne:
Thou nourcing wombe, faire, patient, vnmoued,
Fruitfull and fragrant, various and beloued,
Clad with a robe with flowers all bespangled,
With riuers lac't, fretted with colours fangled.
Haile heart, roote, foot to that great Animal,
Which men the World most vulgarly do call;

28

Chast spouse of heauen, and foundation sound
For all the buildings of this totall Round.
I greete thee mother, sister, nource, and hostesse
Of man, the king of creatures; all (great Princesse)
Do liue for thee: for euery wheeling spheare
T'enlighten thee his flaming torch doth beare;
To giue thee heate, the purer fierie flame,
To motion orbicular doth frame.
The aire for thy refreshing pleasure taketh,
When with the North or gentler West it shaketh.
To moisten thee, the sea, fountaine and riuer
With veines do interlace thy bodie euer.
Oh! how it grieues me, that the wittiest men
Do thee (O earth) so commonly contemne:
That greatest hearts do husbandrie deride,
And care of simples proudly lay aside
For simplest men, and men of no demerits,
That iron bodies haue and leaden spirits.
Such were not once those venerable Sages,
Whose praise the Bible tels to coming ages,
Noe, Moses, Abram, who did most time spend
In tilling, or vpon their flockes did tend.
Such were not Cyrus, or king Archelas,
Hiero, Philometor, or Attalus,
Whose royall hands in steade of conquering blade
And scepter, held a bill-hooke or a spade.
Such were not Manius, Cincinnat, Fabricius,
Or Serran that made warre gainst passions vicious,
And did with coulter crown'd, with conqu'ring hand,
With plough triumphant raze the Romane land.
Yea Scipio tir'd with seeming happinesse,
With Court-eclipses, tedious sportfulnesse

29

Of following troupes; and that great Emperor,
That, mad a king, became a labourer,
To pettie hamlets did retire againe,
And did in tilling take as mickle paine
As earst in warre; setting their trees in rowes,
As orderly as squadrons gainst their foes.
O man thrise happie that himselfe sequesters
From Citie troubles! and that neuer pesters
His thoughts with kings affaires; but doth him arme
(By Ceres taught) to plow his fathers farme!
Pale Enuies poisond tooth doth not him bite,
Nor greedie Care depriue him of delight.
His will is bounded iust as is his farme;
He neuer drinks such potions as do charme
Mens Loue in stead of wine; not mong his meate
Doth euer life-depriuing Orpine eate.
His hand his goblet is, the siluer streame
His sweetest Ipocras: his cheese and creame,
And apples graffed by his proper hand,
In vnprepared readinesse do stand.
False pettifoggers (harpies of the barre,
And bloud-suckers of men) with pratling warre
Triflingly tedious, neuer dull his sence.
But birds with their melodious eloquence
Deceiue the busie time, on fragrant twigs
Chanting sweet couplets to harmonious jigs.
His wandring ship vpon the stormie maine
Becomes no play-game for the windie traine:
Nor doth he roame vpon the Ocean wide,
To seeke where death doth dreadfully abide;
But quietly his dayes all passing thorough,
Doth neuer lose the sight of's natiue borough.

30

Nor sea, nor riuer doth he euer know,
Saue such cleare brookes as gurglingly do flow
Watring his verdant fields; and that selfe earth
Enterres him, that receiu'd him at his birth.
To purchase sleepe he drinks no dulling poppie,
Nor the cold rush that growes in Æthiopie.
He doth not like Mecænas musique buy,
When his grieu'd soule in bodie pain'd did lye,
And had no resting peace, but without stay
The iealous paine on's verie bones did play:
But on greene carpets of soft mosse that growes
Fringing the banks, from out his side he blowes
Sweet slumbring naps, enchanted by the sounds
Of warbling brookes that runne on stonie grounds.
Nor warlike trumpe, nor clarion, drumme or tabour
Breaking his sleepe, put him to arming labour;
Nor the commaund of anie chieftaine braue
Leades him from bed blindfold vnto his graue.
The wakefull Cocke makes him the time to know,
Limits his sleepe, and with his chearefull crow
Cheares him to walke among the floures early,
Which with Aurora's teares waxen all pearlie.
Close stinking aire in streets and filthie lanes,
His bloud with damps infectious nere enflames:
But open aire wherein he euer liues,
Fresh appetite vnto him alway giues:
Maintaines his health, puts verie death in doubt
In manie yeares to find his lodging out.
In clymbe-fall court he spends no wretched yeares,
His will depends not on the greatest peeres:
He changeth not religion with his Lord.
His mercenarie stile doth not accord,

31

With lyes to make an Ant an Elephant,
Or stile a coward hard and valiant;
Or make an Adon of some foule Thersite,
Or wrong leud Flora with Alcestes right:
But liues vnto himselfe, serues God in feare,
And sings the verie thought his heart doth beare.
Pale feare doth neuer feede vpon his heart;
Nor doth he practise conicatching art:
If he thinke on deceipt, tis to lay snares
For rauenous beasts, or to catch vnawares
The birds with twigs, with wieles the scalie frie.
Now if his ward-robe be not sumptuouslie
With silkes and tissue stuft; if so his chest
Be not vnsafe with greedie Lingots prest:
Yet are his garments made of purer wooll,
And with vnboughten wines his sellar full,
His lofts with graine, his wels with water cleare,
His grange with hay, his parke is stoar'd with deare.
For I speake of that countrie-mans good state,
Whose house a pettie common-wealth doth mate:
Not of the broken bouth, or hungrie neede
Of the poore drudge that begs whereon to feede,
Or hungrie fisher-man, whose foure-legd roome
Hath but at pushes for to fill his wombe.
Let me (ô God) of greatest Kings vnkend,
In solitarie woods my life-time end;
My pond my sea, my groue let be Ardens,
Gimon my Nilus, Sarrapin my Sena,
My Lutes and quiresters the winged sort,
Bartas my Louver, and my men my Court:
Where I vntroubled may thy praise so thunder,
As may strike dead succeeding men with wonder.

32

Or if my dutie and my Princes grace
Shall call me vnto anie waiting place,
Grant, with his fauor I nere drunken be,
But subiect to command, may yet liue free.
False honour I may shunne, true honour gaine,
Lou'd for no flatterie, but for dealing plaine.
FINIS.

Effugiunt auidos carmina sola rogos.

Ouid. Amorum lib. 3. Eleg. 8.