University of Virginia Library

Chorus.

Fvll true the dytty is
That holy ORPHEVS sang,
On Thracian harpe with sounde whereof
the Rocks of Rodop rang,
That nothing is creat
For euer to endure.
Dame Natures byrdes each on must stoupe
when death throwes out the lure.
The head wyth Crispen lockes,
or goulden hayres full:
In time hath borne an hoary bush,
or bin a naked scull.
And that which tract of time
doth bring out of the grayne,
Olde SATVRNE sharps his Syth at length
to reape it downe agayne.
Though PHOEBVS ryse at morne,
with glistring rayes full proude,
Hee runnes his race, and ducketh downe
at length in foggy Clowde.
Toth Gætans ORPHEVS sang
such kinde of melody.
And how the gods themselues were bounde
to lawes of destiny.
The God that doth the yeare.
By egall partes dispose,
Howe fatall webbe in euery clyme
are dayly spunne he showes.
For all thinges made of moulde
The grounde agayne will gape,
As Hercles preacheth playne by proofe
that nothing can escape.
For shortly shall ensue
Discarge of Natures Lawe
And out of hande the gloming daye
of doome shall onwarde drawe
Then all that lies within
The scorching Libicke clyme,
The poale antarticke of the South.
shall ouerwhelme in tyme.
Poale articke of the North
Shall iumble, all that lyes
VVithin the Axeltree, whereon,
drye BORES blasinge flyes
The shiuerynge Sunne in Heauen
Shall leese his fadyng lighte
The Pallace of the frames of Heauens
shall runne to ruin quight.
And all these blockish Gods
Some kynd of Death shall quell,
And in confused CHAOS blynde
they shall for euer dwell,
And after ruin made
Of Goblin, Hegge, and Elfe,
Death shall bringe finall destenye,
at last vppon it selfe.
VVhere shall be then bestowde
The world so huge a masse,
The beaten hye way vnto hell
is like away to passe,
To leade vnto the Heauens
That shall be layed flatt:
The space betwene the Heauen and earth,
inough thinke ye is that?
Or is it not to much
For worldly miseryes:
VVher may such heaps of sinnes be lodgd
what place aboue the skyes?
Remaynes, but that the sea
VVith Heauen and lowest Hell,
Three Kingdomes cast in one are like
within one roofe to dwell.
But hark what roaring crye,
Thus beates my fearefull eare
But lo its Hercules that yelles
tis Hercules I heare.