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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The Fovrth Song.
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 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
101
The Fovrth Song.
The Argvment.
Fida's distresse, the Hinde is slaine,Yet from her ruines liues againe.
Riots description next I rime;
Then Aletheia, and old Time:
And lastly, from this Song I goe,
Hauing describ'd the Vale of Woe.
Happy yee dayes of old, when euery waste
VVas like a Sanctvarie to the chaste:
VVhen Incests, Rapes, Adulteries, were not knowne;
All pure as blossomes, which are newly blowne.
Maids were as free from spots, and soiles within,
As most vnblemisht in the outward skin.
Men euery Plaine and Cottage did afford,
As smooth in deeds, as they were faire of word.
Maidens with Men as sisters with their brothers;
And Men with Maids conuers'd as with their Mothers;
Free from suspition, or the rage of blood.
Strife onely raign'd, for all striu'd to be good.
VVas like a Sanctvarie to the chaste:
VVhen Incests, Rapes, Adulteries, were not knowne;
All pure as blossomes, which are newly blowne.
Maids were as free from spots, and soiles within,
As most vnblemisht in the outward skin.
Men euery Plaine and Cottage did afford,
As smooth in deeds, as they were faire of word.
Maidens with Men as sisters with their brothers;
And Men with Maids conuers'd as with their Mothers;
Free from suspition, or the rage of blood.
Strife onely raign'd, for all striu'd to be good.
102
But then as little Wrens but newly fledge,
First, by their nests hop vp and downe the hedge;
Then one from bough to bough gets vp a tree:
His fellow noting his agilitie,
Thinkes he as well may venter as the other,
So flushing from one spray vnto another,
Gets to the top, and then enbold'ned flies,
Vnto an height past ken of humane eyes:
So time brought worse, men first desir'd to talke;
Then came suspect; and then a priuate walke;
Then by consent appointed times of meeting,
Where most securely each might kisse his sweeting;
Lastly, with lusts their panting brests so swell,
They came to. But to what I blush to tell,
And entred thus, Rapes vsed were of all,
Incest, Adultery, held as Veniall:
The certainty in doubtfull ballance rests,
If beasts did learne of men, or men of beasts.
Had they not learn'd of man who was their King,
So to insult vpon an vnderling,
They ciuilly had spent their liues gradation,
As meeke and milde as in their first creation;
Nor had th' infections of infected minds
So alter'd nature, and disorder'd kinds,
Fida had beene lesse wretched, I more glad,
That so true loue so true a progresse had.
First, by their nests hop vp and downe the hedge;
Then one from bough to bough gets vp a tree:
His fellow noting his agilitie,
Thinkes he as well may venter as the other,
So flushing from one spray vnto another,
Gets to the top, and then enbold'ned flies,
Vnto an height past ken of humane eyes:
So time brought worse, men first desir'd to talke;
Then came suspect; and then a priuate walke;
Then by consent appointed times of meeting,
Where most securely each might kisse his sweeting;
Lastly, with lusts their panting brests so swell,
They came to. But to what I blush to tell,
And entred thus, Rapes vsed were of all,
Incest, Adultery, held as Veniall:
The certainty in doubtfull ballance rests,
If beasts did learne of men, or men of beasts.
Had they not learn'd of man who was their King,
So to insult vpon an vnderling,
They ciuilly had spent their liues gradation,
As meeke and milde as in their first creation;
Nor had th' infections of infected minds
So alter'd nature, and disorder'd kinds,
Fida had beene lesse wretched, I more glad,
That so true loue so true a progresse had.
When Remond left her (Remond then vnkinde)
Fida went downe the dale to seeke the Hinde;
And found her taking soyle within a flood:
Whom when she call'd straight follow'd to the wood.
Fida then wearied, sought the cooling shade,
And found an arbour by the Shepherds made
To frolike in (when Sol did hottest shine)
With cates which were farre cleanlier then fine.
For in those dayes men neuer vs'd to feed
So much for pleasure as they did for need.
Enriching then the arbour downe she sate her;
Where many a busie Bee came flying at her:
Thinking when she for ayre her brests discloses,
That there had growne some tuft of Damaske-Roses,
And that her azure veines which then did swell,
Were Conduit-pipes brought from a liuing Well.
Whose liquor might the world enioy for money,
Bees would be bank-rupt, none would care for honey.
The Hinde lay still without (poore silly creature,
How like a woman art thou fram'd by nature?
Timerous, apt to teares, wilie in running,
Caught best when force is intermixt with cunning)
Lying thus distant, different chances meet them,
And with a fearfull obiect Fate doth greet them.
Fida went downe the dale to seeke the Hinde;
And found her taking soyle within a flood:
Whom when she call'd straight follow'd to the wood.
Fida then wearied, sought the cooling shade,
And found an arbour by the Shepherds made
To frolike in (when Sol did hottest shine)
With cates which were farre cleanlier then fine.
For in those dayes men neuer vs'd to feed
So much for pleasure as they did for need.
103
Where many a busie Bee came flying at her:
Thinking when she for ayre her brests discloses,
That there had growne some tuft of Damaske-Roses,
And that her azure veines which then did swell,
Were Conduit-pipes brought from a liuing Well.
Whose liquor might the world enioy for money,
Bees would be bank-rupt, none would care for honey.
The Hinde lay still without (poore silly creature,
How like a woman art thou fram'd by nature?
Timerous, apt to teares, wilie in running,
Caught best when force is intermixt with cunning)
Lying thus distant, different chances meet them,
And with a fearfull obiect Fate doth greet them.
Something appear'd, which seem'd farre off, a man,
In stature, habit, gate, proportion:
But when their eyes their obiects Masters were,
And it for stricter censure came more neere,
By all his properties one well might ghesse,
Than of a man, he sure had nothing lesse.
For verily since old Deucalions flood
Earths slime did ne'er produce a viler brood.
Vpon the various earths embrodered gowne
There is a weed vpon whose head growes Downe;
Sow-thistle 'tis ycleep'd, whose downy wreath,
If any one can blow off at a breath,
We deeme her for a Maid: such was his haire,
Ready to shed at any stirring ayre.
His eares were strucken deafe when he came nie,
To heare the Widowes or the Orphans crie.
His eyes encircled with a bloody chaine,
With poaring in the blood of bodies slaine.
His mouth exceeding wide, from whence did flie
Vollies of execrable blasphemie;
Banning the Heauens, and he that rideth on them,
Dar'd vengeance to the teeth to fall vpon him:
Like Scythian Wolues, or
men of wit bereauen,
Which howle and shoot against the lights of Heauen.
His hands (if hands they were) like some dead corse,
With digging vp his buried ancestors;
Making his Fathers tombe and sacred shrine
The trough wherein the Hog-heard fed his Swine.
And as that Beast hath legs (which shepherds feare,
Ycleep'd a Badger, which our Lambs doth teare)
One long, the other short, that when he runs
Vpon the plaines, he halts; but when he wons
On craggy Rocks, or steepy stils, we see
None runs more swift, nor easier then he:
Such legs the Monster had, one sinew shrunke,
That in the plaines he reel'd, as being drunke;
And halted in the paths to Vertue tending:
And therefore neuer durst be that way bending:
But when he came on carued Monuments,
Spiring Colosses, and high raised rents,
He past them o're, quicke, as the Easterne winde
Sweepes through a Meadow; or a nimble Hinde,
Or Satyre on a Lawne; or skipping Roe;
Or well-wing'd Shaft forth of a Parthian bow.
His body made (still in consumptions rife)
A miserable prison for a life.
In stature, habit, gate, proportion:
But when their eyes their obiects Masters were,
And it for stricter censure came more neere,
By all his properties one well might ghesse,
Than of a man, he sure had nothing lesse.
For verily since old Deucalions flood
Earths slime did ne'er produce a viler brood.
Vpon the various earths embrodered gowne
There is a weed vpon whose head growes Downe;
Sow-thistle 'tis ycleep'd, whose downy wreath,
If any one can blow off at a breath,
We deeme her for a Maid: such was his haire,
Ready to shed at any stirring ayre.
His eares were strucken deafe when he came nie,
To heare the Widowes or the Orphans crie.
His eyes encircled with a bloody chaine,
With poaring in the blood of bodies slaine.
His mouth exceeding wide, from whence did flie
Vollies of execrable blasphemie;
Banning the Heauens, and he that rideth on them,
Dar'd vengeance to the teeth to fall vpon him:
104
Which howle and shoot against the lights of Heauen.
His hands (if hands they were) like some dead corse,
With digging vp his buried ancestors;
Making his Fathers tombe and sacred shrine
The trough wherein the Hog-heard fed his Swine.
And as that Beast hath legs (which shepherds feare,
Ycleep'd a Badger, which our Lambs doth teare)
One long, the other short, that when he runs
Vpon the plaines, he halts; but when he wons
On craggy Rocks, or steepy stils, we see
None runs more swift, nor easier then he:
Such legs the Monster had, one sinew shrunke,
That in the plaines he reel'd, as being drunke;
And halted in the paths to Vertue tending:
And therefore neuer durst be that way bending:
But when he came on carued Monuments,
Spiring Colosses, and high raised rents,
He past them o're, quicke, as the Easterne winde
Sweepes through a Meadow; or a nimble Hinde,
Or Satyre on a Lawne; or skipping Roe;
Or well-wing'd Shaft forth of a Parthian bow.
His body made (still in consumptions rife)
A miserable prison for a life.
Riot he hight; whom some curs'd Fiend did raise,
When like a Chaos were the nights and daies:
Got and brought vp in the Cymerian Clime,
Where Sun nor Moon, nor daies, nor nights do time:
As who should say, they scorn'd to shew their faces
To such a Fiend should seeke to spoile the Graces.
When like a Chaos were the nights and daies:
Got and brought vp in the Cymerian Clime,
Where Sun nor Moon, nor daies, nor nights do time:
As who should say, they scorn'd to shew their faces
To such a Fiend should seeke to spoile the Graces.
At sight whereof, Fida nigh drown'd in feare,
Was cleane dismaid when he approched neare;
Nor durst she call the Deere, nor whistling winde her,
Fearing her noise might make the Monster finde her;
Who slily came, for he had cunning learn'd him,
And seiz'd vpon the Hinde, ere she discern'd him.
Oh how she striu'd and strugled; euery nerue
Is prest at all assaies a life to serue:
Yet soone we lose, what we might longer keepe
Were not Preuention commonly a sleepe.
Maids, of this Monsters brood be fearefull all,
What to the Hinde may hap to you befall.
Who with her feet held vp in stead of hands,
And teares which pittie from the Rocke commands,
She sighes, and shrikes, & weeps, and looks vpon him:
Alas she sobs, and many a groane throwes on him;
With plaints which might abate a Tyrants knife;
She begs for pardon, and entreats for life.
The hollow caues resound her moanings neere it,
That heart was flint which did not grieue to heare it:
The high topt Firres which on that mountaine keep,
Haue euer since that time beene seene to weepe.
The Owle till then, 'tis thought full well could sing,
And tune her voyce to euery bubling Spring:
But when she heard those plaints, then forth she yode
Out of the couert of an Iuy rod,
And hollowing for aide, so strain'd her throat,
That since she cleane forgot her former noat.
A little Robin sitting on a tree,
In dolefull noats bewail'd her Tragedie.
An Aspe, who thought him stout, could not dissemble,
But shew'd his feare, and yet is seene to tremble.
Yet Cruelty was deafe, and had no sight
In ought which might gain-say the appetite:
But with his teeth rending her throat asunder,
Besprinkl'd with her blood the greene grasse vnder
And gurmundizing on her flesh and blood,
He vomiting returned to the Wood.
Was cleane dismaid when he approched neare;
Nor durst she call the Deere, nor whistling winde her,
Fearing her noise might make the Monster finde her;
Who slily came, for he had cunning learn'd him,
And seiz'd vpon the Hinde, ere she discern'd him.
105
Is prest at all assaies a life to serue:
Yet soone we lose, what we might longer keepe
Were not Preuention commonly a sleepe.
Maids, of this Monsters brood be fearefull all,
What to the Hinde may hap to you befall.
Who with her feet held vp in stead of hands,
And teares which pittie from the Rocke commands,
She sighes, and shrikes, & weeps, and looks vpon him:
Alas she sobs, and many a groane throwes on him;
With plaints which might abate a Tyrants knife;
She begs for pardon, and entreats for life.
The hollow caues resound her moanings neere it,
That heart was flint which did not grieue to heare it:
The high topt Firres which on that mountaine keep,
Haue euer since that time beene seene to weepe.
The Owle till then, 'tis thought full well could sing,
And tune her voyce to euery bubling Spring:
But when she heard those plaints, then forth she yode
Out of the couert of an Iuy rod,
And hollowing for aide, so strain'd her throat,
That since she cleane forgot her former noat.
A little Robin sitting on a tree,
In dolefull noats bewail'd her Tragedie.
An Aspe, who thought him stout, could not dissemble,
But shew'd his feare, and yet is seene to tremble.
Yet Cruelty was deafe, and had no sight
In ought which might gain-say the appetite:
But with his teeth rending her throat asunder,
Besprinkl'd with her blood the greene grasse vnder
And gurmundizing on her flesh and blood,
He vomiting returned to the Wood.
Ryot but newly gone, as strange a vision
Though farre more heauenly, came in apparition.
As that Arabian bird (whom all admire)
Her exequies prepar'd and funerall fire,
Burnt in a flame conceiued from the Sun,
And nourished with slips of Cynamon,
Out of her ashes hath a second birth,
And flies abroad, a wonderment on earth:
So from the ruines of this mangled Creature
Arose so faire and so diuine a feature,
That Enuy for her heart would doat vpon her;
Heauen could not chuse but be enamour'd on her:
Were I a Starre, and she a second Spheare,
Ide leaue the other, and be fixed there.
Had faire Arachne wrought this Maidens haire,
When she with Pallas did for skill compare,
Minerua's worke had neuer beene esteem'd,
But this had beene more rare and highly deem'd.
Yet gladly now she would reuerse her doome,
Weauing this haire within a Spiders Loome.
Vpon her fore-head, as in glory sate
Mercy and Maiesty, for wondring at,
As pure and simple as Albania's snow,
Or milke-white Swans which stem the streams of Poe:
Like to some goodly fore-land, bearing out
Her haire, the tufts which fring'd the shoare about.
And lest the man which sought those coasts might slip,
Her eyes like Stars, did serue to guide the ship.
Vpon her front (heauens fairest Promontory)
Delineated was, th' Authentique Story
Of those Elect, whose sheepe at first began
To nibble by the springs of Canaan:
Out of whose sacred loynes (brought by the stem
Of that sweet Singer of Ierusalem)
Came the best Shepherd euer flocks did keepe,
Who yeelded vp his life to saue his sheepe.
Though farre more heauenly, came in apparition.
As that Arabian bird (whom all admire)
Her exequies prepar'd and funerall fire,
106
And nourished with slips of Cynamon,
Out of her ashes hath a second birth,
And flies abroad, a wonderment on earth:
So from the ruines of this mangled Creature
Arose so faire and so diuine a feature,
That Enuy for her heart would doat vpon her;
Heauen could not chuse but be enamour'd on her:
Were I a Starre, and she a second Spheare,
Ide leaue the other, and be fixed there.
Had faire Arachne wrought this Maidens haire,
When she with Pallas did for skill compare,
Minerua's worke had neuer beene esteem'd,
But this had beene more rare and highly deem'd.
Yet gladly now she would reuerse her doome,
Weauing this haire within a Spiders Loome.
Vpon her fore-head, as in glory sate
Mercy and Maiesty, for wondring at,
As pure and simple as Albania's snow,
Or milke-white Swans which stem the streams of Poe:
Like to some goodly fore-land, bearing out
Her haire, the tufts which fring'd the shoare about.
And lest the man which sought those coasts might slip,
Her eyes like Stars, did serue to guide the ship.
Vpon her front (heauens fairest Promontory)
Delineated was, th' Authentique Story
Of those Elect, whose sheepe at first began
To nibble by the springs of Canaan:
Out of whose sacred loynes (brought by the stem
Of that sweet Singer of Ierusalem)
Came the best Shepherd euer flocks did keepe,
Who yeelded vp his life to saue his sheepe.
O thou Eterne! by whom all beings moue,
Giuing the Springs beneath, and Springs aboue:
Whose Finger doth this Vniuerse sustaine,
Bringing the former and the latter raine:
Who dost with plenty Meads and Pastures fill,
By drops distill'd like dew on Hermon Hill:
Pardon a silly Swaine, who (farre vnable
In that which is so rare, so admirable)
Dares on an Oaten-pipe, thus meanly sing
Her praise immense, worthy a siluer string.
And thou which through the Desart and the Deepe,
Didst lead thy Chosen like a flocke of sheepe:
As sometime by a Starre thou guidedst them,
Which fed vpon the plaines of Bethelem;
So by thy sacred Spirit direct my quill,
When I shall sing ought of thy Holy hill,
That times to come, when they my rymes rehearse,
May wonder at me, and admire my Verse:
For who but one rapt in Cœlestiall fire,
Can by his Muse to such a pitch aspire;
That from aloft he might behold and tell
Her worth, whereon an iron Pen might dwell.
Giuing the Springs beneath, and Springs aboue:
Whose Finger doth this Vniuerse sustaine,
Bringing the former and the latter raine:
107
By drops distill'd like dew on Hermon Hill:
Pardon a silly Swaine, who (farre vnable
In that which is so rare, so admirable)
Dares on an Oaten-pipe, thus meanly sing
Her praise immense, worthy a siluer string.
And thou which through the Desart and the Deepe,
Didst lead thy Chosen like a flocke of sheepe:
As sometime by a Starre thou guidedst them,
Which fed vpon the plaines of Bethelem;
So by thy sacred Spirit direct my quill,
When I shall sing ought of thy Holy hill,
That times to come, when they my rymes rehearse,
May wonder at me, and admire my Verse:
For who but one rapt in Cœlestiall fire,
Can by his Muse to such a pitch aspire;
That from aloft he might behold and tell
Her worth, whereon an iron Pen might dwell.
When she was borne, Nature in sport began,
To learne the cunning of an Artizan,
And did Vermilion with a white compose,
To mocke her selfe, and paint a Damaske Rose.
But scorning Nature vnto Art should seeke,
She spilt her colours on this Maidens cheeke.
Her mouth the gate from whence all goodnesse came,
Of power to giue the dead a liuing name.
Her words embalmed in so sweet a breath,
That made them triumph both on Time and Death,
Whose fragrant sweets, since the Camelion knew,
And tasted of, he to this humor grew:
Left other Elements, held this so rare,
That since he neuer feeds on ought but Ayre.
To learne the cunning of an Artizan,
And did Vermilion with a white compose,
To mocke her selfe, and paint a Damaske Rose.
But scorning Nature vnto Art should seeke,
She spilt her colours on this Maidens cheeke.
Her mouth the gate from whence all goodnesse came,
Of power to giue the dead a liuing name.
Her words embalmed in so sweet a breath,
That made them triumph both on Time and Death,
Whose fragrant sweets, since the Camelion knew,
And tasted of, he to this humor grew:
Left other Elements, held this so rare,
That since he neuer feeds on ought but Ayre.
O had I Virgils verse, or Tullies Tongue!
Or raping numbers like the Thracian's Song,
I haue a Theame would make the Rocks to dance,
And surly Beasts that through the Desart prance,
Hie from their Caues, and euery gloomy den,
To wonder at the excellence of men.
Nay, they would thinke their states for euer raised,
But once to looke on one, so highly praised.
Or raping numbers like the Thracian's Song,
I haue a Theame would make the Rocks to dance,
And surly Beasts that through the Desart prance,
108
To wonder at the excellence of men.
Nay, they would thinke their states for euer raised,
But once to looke on one, so highly praised.
Out of whose Maiden brests (which sweetly rise)
The Seers suckt their hidden Prophecies:
And told that for her loue in times to come,
Many should seeke the Crowne of Martyrdome,
By fire, by sword, by tortures, dungeons, chaines,
By stripes, by famine, and a world of paines;
Yet constant still remaine (to her they loued)
Like Syon Mount, that cannot be remoued.
Proportion on her armes and hands recorded,
The world for her no fitter place afforded.
Praise her who list, he still shall be her debter:
For Art ne'er fain'd, nor Nature fram'd a better.
The Seers suckt their hidden Prophecies:
And told that for her loue in times to come,
Many should seeke the Crowne of Martyrdome,
By fire, by sword, by tortures, dungeons, chaines,
By stripes, by famine, and a world of paines;
Yet constant still remaine (to her they loued)
Like Syon Mount, that cannot be remoued.
Proportion on her armes and hands recorded,
The world for her no fitter place afforded.
Praise her who list, he still shall be her debter:
For Art ne'er fain'd, nor Nature fram'd a better.
As when a holy Father hath began
To offer sacrifice to mighty Pan,
Doth the request of euery Swaine assume,
To scale the Welkin in a sacred fume,
Made by a widow'd Turtles louing mate,
Or Lamkin, or some Kid immaculate,
The offring heaues aloft, with both his hands;
Which all adore, that neere the Altar stands:
So was her heauenly body comely rais'd
On two faire columnes; those that Ouid prais'd
In Iulia's borrowed name, compar'd with these,
Were Crabs to Apples of th' Hespherides;
Or stumpe-foot Vulcan in comparison,
With all the height of true perfection.
To offer sacrifice to mighty Pan,
Doth the request of euery Swaine assume,
To scale the Welkin in a sacred fume,
Made by a widow'd Turtles louing mate,
Or Lamkin, or some Kid immaculate,
The offring heaues aloft, with both his hands;
Which all adore, that neere the Altar stands:
So was her heauenly body comely rais'd
On two faire columnes; those that Ouid prais'd
In Iulia's borrowed name, compar'd with these,
Were Crabs to Apples of th' Hespherides;
Or stumpe-foot Vulcan in comparison,
With all the height of true perfection.
Nature was here so lauish of her store,
That she bestow'd vntill she had no more.
VVhose Treasure being weakned (by this Dame)
She thrusts into the world so many lame.
That she bestow'd vntill she had no more.
VVhose Treasure being weakned (by this Dame)
She thrusts into the world so many lame.
The highest Synode of the glorious Skie,
(I heard a VVood-Nymph sing) sent Mercurie
To take a suruay of the fairest faces,
And to describe to them all womens graces;
VVho long time wandring in a serious quest,
Noting what parts by Beauty were possest:
At last he saw this Maid, then thinking fit
To end his iourney, here, Nil-vltra, writ.
(I heard a VVood-Nymph sing) sent Mercurie
109
And to describe to them all womens graces;
VVho long time wandring in a serious quest,
Noting what parts by Beauty were possest:
At last he saw this Maid, then thinking fit
To end his iourney, here, Nil-vltra, writ.
Fida in adoration kiss'd her knee,
And thus bespake; Haile glorious Deitie!
(If such thou art, and who can deeme you lesse?)
VVhether thou raign'st Queene of the Wildernesse,
Or art that Goddesse ('tis vnknowne to me)
Which from the Ocean drawes her pettigree:
Or one of those, who by the mossie bankes
Of drisling Hellicon, in airie rankes
Tread Roundelayes vpon the siluer sands,
Whilst shaggy Satyres tripping o're the strands,
Stand still at gaze, and yeeld their senses thrals
To the sweet cadence of your Madrigals:
Or of the Faiery troope which nimbly play,
And by the Springs dance out the Summers day;
Teaching the little birds to build their nests,
And in their singing how to keepen rests:
Or one of those, who watching where a Spring
Out of our Grandame Earth hath issuing,
With your attractiue Musicke wooe the streame
(As men by Faieries led, falne in a dreame)
To follow you, which sweetly trilling wanders
In many Mazes, intricate Meanders;
Till at the last, to mocke th' enamour'd rill,
Ye bend your traces vp some shady hill;
And laugh to see the waue no further tread;
But in a chafe run foaming on his head,
Being enforc'd a channell new to frame,
Leauing the other destitute of name.
If thou be one of these, or all, or more,
Succour a seely Maid, that doth implore
Aid, on a bended heart, vnfain'd and meeke,
As true as blushes of a Maiden cheeke.
And thus bespake; Haile glorious Deitie!
(If such thou art, and who can deeme you lesse?)
VVhether thou raign'st Queene of the Wildernesse,
Or art that Goddesse ('tis vnknowne to me)
Which from the Ocean drawes her pettigree:
Or one of those, who by the mossie bankes
Of drisling Hellicon, in airie rankes
Tread Roundelayes vpon the siluer sands,
Whilst shaggy Satyres tripping o're the strands,
Stand still at gaze, and yeeld their senses thrals
To the sweet cadence of your Madrigals:
Or of the Faiery troope which nimbly play,
And by the Springs dance out the Summers day;
Teaching the little birds to build their nests,
And in their singing how to keepen rests:
Or one of those, who watching where a Spring
Out of our Grandame Earth hath issuing,
With your attractiue Musicke wooe the streame
(As men by Faieries led, falne in a dreame)
To follow you, which sweetly trilling wanders
In many Mazes, intricate Meanders;
Till at the last, to mocke th' enamour'd rill,
Ye bend your traces vp some shady hill;
And laugh to see the waue no further tread;
But in a chafe run foaming on his head,
Being enforc'd a channell new to frame,
Leauing the other destitute of name.
If thou be one of these, or all, or more,
Succour a seely Maid, that doth implore
110
As true as blushes of a Maiden cheeke.
Maiden, arise, repli'd the new-borne Maid:
“Pure Innocence the senslesse stones will aide.
Nor of the Fairie troope, nor Muses nine;
Nor am I Venus, nor of Proserpine:
But daughter to a lusty aged Swaine,
That cuts the greene tufts off th' enamel'd plaine;
And with his Sythe hath many a Summer shorne
The plow'd-lands lab'ring with a crop of corne;
Who from the cloud-clipt mountaine by his stroake
Fels downe the lofty Pine, the Cedar, Oake:
He opes the flood-gates as occasion is
Sometimes on that mans land, sometimes on this.
When Verolame, a stately Nymph of yore
Did vse to decke her selfe on Isis shore,
One morne (among the rest) as there she stood,
Saw the pure Channell all besmear'd with blood;
Inquiring for the cause, one did impart,
Those drops came from her holy Albans hart;
Herewith in griefe she gan intreat my Syre,
That Isis streame, which yeerely did attire
Those gallant fields in changeable array,
Might turne her course and run some other way.
Lest that her waues might wash away the guilt
From off their hands which Albans blood had spilt:
He condescended, and the nimble waue
Her Fish no more within that channell draue:
But as a witnesse left the crimson gore
To staine the earth, as they their hands before.
He had a being ere there was a birth,
And shall not cease vntill the Sea and Earth,
And what they both containe, shall cease to be,
Nothing confines him but Eternitie.
By him the names of good men euer liue,
Which short liu'd men vnto Obliuion giue:
And in forgetfulnesse he lets him fall,
That is no other man then naturall:
'Tis he alone that rightly can discouer,
Who is the true, and who the fained Louer.
In Summers heat when any Swaine to sleepe
Doth more addict himselfe then to his sheepe;
And whilst the Leaden God sits on his eyes,
If any of his Fold or strayes or dyes,
And to the waking Swaine it be vnknowne,
Whether his sheepe be dead, or straid, or stolne;
To meet my Syre he bends his course in paine,
Either where some high hill suruaies the plaine;
Or takes his step toward the flowrie vallies,
Where Zephyre with the Cowslip hourely dallies;
Or to the groues, where birds from heat or weather,
Sit sweetly tuning of their noates together:
Or to a Mead a wanton Riuer dresses
With richest Collers of her turning Esses;
Or where the Shepherds sit old stories telling,
Chronos my Syre hath no set place of dwelling;
But if the Shepherd meet the aged Swaine,
He tels him of his sheepe, or shewes them slaine.
So great a gift the sacred Powers of heauen
(Aboue all others) to my Syre haue giuen,
That the abhorred Stratagems of night,
Lurking in cauernes from the glorious light,
By him (perforce) are from their dungeons hurl'd,
And shew'd as monsters to the wondring World.
“Pure Innocence the senslesse stones will aide.
Nor of the Fairie troope, nor Muses nine;
Nor am I Venus, nor of Proserpine:
But daughter to a lusty aged Swaine,
That cuts the greene tufts off th' enamel'd plaine;
And with his Sythe hath many a Summer shorne
The plow'd-lands lab'ring with a crop of corne;
Who from the cloud-clipt mountaine by his stroake
Fels downe the lofty Pine, the Cedar, Oake:
He opes the flood-gates as occasion is
Sometimes on that mans land, sometimes on this.
When Verolame, a stately Nymph of yore
Did vse to decke her selfe on Isis shore,
One morne (among the rest) as there she stood,
Saw the pure Channell all besmear'd with blood;
Inquiring for the cause, one did impart,
Those drops came from her holy Albans hart;
Herewith in griefe she gan intreat my Syre,
That Isis streame, which yeerely did attire
Those gallant fields in changeable array,
Might turne her course and run some other way.
Lest that her waues might wash away the guilt
From off their hands which Albans blood had spilt:
He condescended, and the nimble waue
Her Fish no more within that channell draue:
But as a witnesse left the crimson gore
To staine the earth, as they their hands before.
He had a being ere there was a birth,
And shall not cease vntill the Sea and Earth,
And what they both containe, shall cease to be,
Nothing confines him but Eternitie.
By him the names of good men euer liue,
Which short liu'd men vnto Obliuion giue:
111
That is no other man then naturall:
'Tis he alone that rightly can discouer,
Who is the true, and who the fained Louer.
In Summers heat when any Swaine to sleepe
Doth more addict himselfe then to his sheepe;
And whilst the Leaden God sits on his eyes,
If any of his Fold or strayes or dyes,
And to the waking Swaine it be vnknowne,
Whether his sheepe be dead, or straid, or stolne;
To meet my Syre he bends his course in paine,
Either where some high hill suruaies the plaine;
Or takes his step toward the flowrie vallies,
Where Zephyre with the Cowslip hourely dallies;
Or to the groues, where birds from heat or weather,
Sit sweetly tuning of their noates together:
Or to a Mead a wanton Riuer dresses
With richest Collers of her turning Esses;
Or where the Shepherds sit old stories telling,
Chronos my Syre hath no set place of dwelling;
But if the Shepherd meet the aged Swaine,
He tels him of his sheepe, or shewes them slaine.
So great a gift the sacred Powers of heauen
(Aboue all others) to my Syre haue giuen,
That the abhorred Stratagems of night,
Lurking in cauernes from the glorious light,
By him (perforce) are from their dungeons hurl'd,
And shew'd as monsters to the wondring World.
What Mariner is he sailing vpon
The watry Desart clipping Albion,
Heares not the billowes in their dances roare
Answer'd by Eccoes from the neighbour shoare?
To whose accord the Maids trip from the Downes,
And Riuers dancing come, ycrown'd with Townes,
All singing forth the victories of Time,
Vpon the Monsters of the Westerne Clime,
VVhose horrid, damned, bloody, plots would bring
Confusion on the Laureate Poets King,
VVhose Hell-fed hearts deuis'd how neuer more
A Swan might singing sit on Isis shore:
But croaking Rauens, and the Scrich-owles crie,
The fit Musitians for a Tragedie,
Should euermore be heard about her strand,
To fright all Passengers from that sad Land.
The watry Desart clipping Albion,
Heares not the billowes in their dances roare
Answer'd by Eccoes from the neighbour shoare?
To whose accord the Maids trip from the Downes,
And Riuers dancing come, ycrown'd with Townes,
All singing forth the victories of Time,
Vpon the Monsters of the Westerne Clime,
112
Confusion on the Laureate Poets King,
VVhose Hell-fed hearts deuis'd how neuer more
A Swan might singing sit on Isis shore:
But croaking Rauens, and the Scrich-owles crie,
The fit Musitians for a Tragedie,
Should euermore be heard about her strand,
To fright all Passengers from that sad Land.
Long Summers dayes I on his worth might spend,
And yet begin againe when I would end.
All Ages since the first age first begun,
Ere they could know his worth their age was done:
VVhose absence all the Treasury of earth
Cannot buy out. From farre-fam'd Tagus birth,
Not all the golden grauell he treads ouer,
One minute past, that minute can recouer.
I am his onely Childe (he hath no other)
Cleep'd Aletheia, borne without a Mother.
Poore Aletheia long despis'd of all,
Scarce Charitie would lend an Hospitall
To giue my Months cold watching one nights rest,
But in my roome tooke in the Misers Chest.
And yet begin againe when I would end.
All Ages since the first age first begun,
Ere they could know his worth their age was done:
VVhose absence all the Treasury of earth
Cannot buy out. From farre-fam'd Tagus birth,
Not all the golden grauell he treads ouer,
One minute past, that minute can recouer.
I am his onely Childe (he hath no other)
Cleep'd Aletheia, borne without a Mother.
Poore Aletheia long despis'd of all,
Scarce Charitie would lend an Hospitall
To giue my Months cold watching one nights rest,
But in my roome tooke in the Misers Chest.
In winters time when hardly fed the flocks,
And Isicles hung dangling on the Rocks;
When Hyems bound the floods in siluer chaines,
And hoary Frosts had candy'd all the Plaines;
When euery Barne rung with the threshing Flailes,
And Shepherds Boyes for cold gan blow their nailes:
(Wearied with toyle in seeking out some one
That had a sparke of true deuotion;)
It was my chance (chance onely helpeth need)
To finde an house ybuilt for holy deed,
With goodly Architect, and Cloisters wide,
With groues and walkes along a Riuers side;
The place it selfe afforded admiration,
And euery spray a Theame of contemplation.
But (woe is me) when knocking at the gate,
I gan intreat an enterance thereat:
The Porter askt my name: I told; He swell'd,
And bade me thence: wherewith in griefe repell'd,
I sought for shelter to a ruin'd house,
Harb'ring the Weasell, and the dust-bred Mouse;
And others none, except the two-kinde Bat,
Which all the day there melancholy sate:
Here sate I downe with winde and raine ybeat;
Griefe fed my minde, and did my body eat.
Yet Idlenesse I saw (lam'd with the Gout)
Had entrance when poore Truth was kept without.
There saw I Drunkennesse with Dropsies swolne;
And pamper'd Lust that many a night had stolne
Ouer the Abby-wall when Gates were lock'd,
To be in Venus wanton bosome rock'd:
And Gluttony that surfetting had bin,
Knocke at the gate and straight-way taken in:
Sadly I sate, and sighing grieu'd to see,
Their happinesse, my infelicitie.
At last came Enuy by, who hauing spide
Where I was sadly seated, inward hide,
And to the Conuent eagerly she cries,
Why sit you here, when with these eares and eyes
I heard and saw a strumpet dares to say,
She is the true faire Aletheia,
Which you haue boasted long to liue among you,
Yet suffer not a peeuish Girle to wrong you?
With this prouok'd, all rose, and in a rout
Ran to the gate, stroue who should first get out,
Bade me be gone, and then (in tearmes vnciuill)
Did call me counterfait, witch, hag, whore, deuill;
Then like a strumpet droue me from their cels,
With tinkling pans, and with the noise of bels.
And he that lou'd me, or but moan'd my case,
Had heapes of fire-brands banded at his face.
And Isicles hung dangling on the Rocks;
When Hyems bound the floods in siluer chaines,
And hoary Frosts had candy'd all the Plaines;
When euery Barne rung with the threshing Flailes,
And Shepherds Boyes for cold gan blow their nailes:
(Wearied with toyle in seeking out some one
That had a sparke of true deuotion;)
It was my chance (chance onely helpeth need)
To finde an house ybuilt for holy deed,
With goodly Architect, and Cloisters wide,
With groues and walkes along a Riuers side;
The place it selfe afforded admiration,
And euery spray a Theame of contemplation.
113
I gan intreat an enterance thereat:
The Porter askt my name: I told; He swell'd,
And bade me thence: wherewith in griefe repell'd,
I sought for shelter to a ruin'd house,
Harb'ring the Weasell, and the dust-bred Mouse;
And others none, except the two-kinde Bat,
Which all the day there melancholy sate:
Here sate I downe with winde and raine ybeat;
Griefe fed my minde, and did my body eat.
Yet Idlenesse I saw (lam'd with the Gout)
Had entrance when poore Truth was kept without.
There saw I Drunkennesse with Dropsies swolne;
And pamper'd Lust that many a night had stolne
Ouer the Abby-wall when Gates were lock'd,
To be in Venus wanton bosome rock'd:
And Gluttony that surfetting had bin,
Knocke at the gate and straight-way taken in:
Sadly I sate, and sighing grieu'd to see,
Their happinesse, my infelicitie.
At last came Enuy by, who hauing spide
Where I was sadly seated, inward hide,
And to the Conuent eagerly she cries,
Why sit you here, when with these eares and eyes
I heard and saw a strumpet dares to say,
She is the true faire Aletheia,
Which you haue boasted long to liue among you,
Yet suffer not a peeuish Girle to wrong you?
With this prouok'd, all rose, and in a rout
Ran to the gate, stroue who should first get out,
Bade me be gone, and then (in tearmes vnciuill)
Did call me counterfait, witch, hag, whore, deuill;
Then like a strumpet droue me from their cels,
With tinkling pans, and with the noise of bels.
And he that lou'd me, or but moan'd my case,
Had heapes of fire-brands banded at his face.
114
Thus beaten thence (distrest, forsaken wight)
Inforc'd in fields to sleepe, or wake all night;
A silly sheepe seeing me straying by,
Forsooke the shrub where once she meant to lye;
As if she in her kinde (vnhurting elfe)
Did bid me take such lodging as her selfe:
Gladly I tooke the place the sheepe had giuen,
Vncanopy'd of any thing but heauen.
Where nigh benumb'd with cold, with grief frequented,
Vnto the silent night I thus lamented:
Inforc'd in fields to sleepe, or wake all night;
A silly sheepe seeing me straying by,
Forsooke the shrub where once she meant to lye;
As if she in her kinde (vnhurting elfe)
Did bid me take such lodging as her selfe:
Gladly I tooke the place the sheepe had giuen,
Vncanopy'd of any thing but heauen.
Where nigh benumb'd with cold, with grief frequented,
Vnto the silent night I thus lamented:
Faire Cynthia, if from thy siluer Throne,
Thou euer lentst an eare to Virgins mone!
Or in thy Monthly course, one minute staid
Thy Palfrayes trot, to heare a wretched Maid!
Pull in their reynes, and lend thine eare to me,
Forlorne, forsaken, cloath'd in miserie:
But if a woe hath neuer woo'd thine eare,
To stop those Coursers in their full Cariere;
But as stone-hearted men, vncharitable,
Passe carelesse by the poore, when men lesse able
Hold not the needed helpe in long suspence,
But in their hands poure their beneuolence.
O! if thou be so hard to stop thine eares!
When stars in pitty drop downe from their Spheares,
Yet for a while in gloomy vaile of night,
Inshrowd the pale beames of thy borrowed light:
O! neuer once discourage goodnesse (lending
One glimpse of light) to see misfortune spending
Her vtmost rage on Truth, despis'd, distressed,
Vnhappy, vnrelieued, yet vndressed.
Where is the heart at vertues suffring grieueth?
Where is the eye that pittying relieueth?
Where is the hand that still the hungry feedeth?
Where is the eare that the decrepit steedeth?
That heart, that hand, that eare, or else that eye,
Giueth, relieueth, feeds, steeds misery?
O earth produce me one (of all thy store)
Enioyes; and be vaine-glorious no more.
Thou euer lentst an eare to Virgins mone!
Or in thy Monthly course, one minute staid
Thy Palfrayes trot, to heare a wretched Maid!
Pull in their reynes, and lend thine eare to me,
Forlorne, forsaken, cloath'd in miserie:
But if a woe hath neuer woo'd thine eare,
To stop those Coursers in their full Cariere;
But as stone-hearted men, vncharitable,
Passe carelesse by the poore, when men lesse able
Hold not the needed helpe in long suspence,
But in their hands poure their beneuolence.
O! if thou be so hard to stop thine eares!
When stars in pitty drop downe from their Spheares,
Yet for a while in gloomy vaile of night,
Inshrowd the pale beames of thy borrowed light:
O! neuer once discourage goodnesse (lending
One glimpse of light) to see misfortune spending
Her vtmost rage on Truth, despis'd, distressed,
Vnhappy, vnrelieued, yet vndressed.
Where is the heart at vertues suffring grieueth?
Where is the eye that pittying relieueth?
Where is the hand that still the hungry feedeth?
Where is the eare that the decrepit steedeth?
That heart, that hand, that eare, or else that eye,
Giueth, relieueth, feeds, steeds misery?
115
Enioyes; and be vaine-glorious no more.
By this had Chanticlere, the village-clocke,
Bidden the good-wife for her Maids to knocke:
And the swart plow man for his breakfast staid,
That he might till those lands were fallow laid:
The hils and vallies here and there resound
With the re-ecchoes of the deepe-mouth'd hound.
Each Shepherds daughter with her cleanly Peale,
Was come a field to milke the Mornings meale,
And ere the Sunne had clymb'd the Easterne hils,
To guild the muttring bournes, and pritty rils,
Before the lab'ring Bee had left the Hiue,
And nimble Fishes which in Riuers diue,
Began to leape, and catch the drowned Flie,
I rose from rest, not in felicitie.
Seeking the place of Charities resort,
Vnware I hapned on a Princes Court;
Where meeting Greatnesse, I requir'd reliefe,
(O happy vndelay'd) she said in briefe,
To small effect thine oratorie tends,
How can I keepe thee and so many friends?
If of my houshold I should make thee one,
Farewell my seruant Adulation:
I know she will not stay when thou art there:
But seeke some Great mans seruice other-where.
Darknesse and light, summer and winters weather
May be at once, ere you two liue together.
Thus with a nod she left me cloath'd in woe.
Bidden the good-wife for her Maids to knocke:
And the swart plow man for his breakfast staid,
That he might till those lands were fallow laid:
The hils and vallies here and there resound
With the re-ecchoes of the deepe-mouth'd hound.
Each Shepherds daughter with her cleanly Peale,
Was come a field to milke the Mornings meale,
And ere the Sunne had clymb'd the Easterne hils,
To guild the muttring bournes, and pritty rils,
Before the lab'ring Bee had left the Hiue,
And nimble Fishes which in Riuers diue,
Began to leape, and catch the drowned Flie,
I rose from rest, not in felicitie.
Seeking the place of Charities resort,
Vnware I hapned on a Princes Court;
Where meeting Greatnesse, I requir'd reliefe,
(O happy vndelay'd) she said in briefe,
To small effect thine oratorie tends,
How can I keepe thee and so many friends?
If of my houshold I should make thee one,
Farewell my seruant Adulation:
I know she will not stay when thou art there:
But seeke some Great mans seruice other-where.
Darknesse and light, summer and winters weather
May be at once, ere you two liue together.
Thus with a nod she left me cloath'd in woe.
Thence to the Citie once I thought to goe,
But somewhat in my mind this thought had thrown,
It was a place wherein I was not knowne.
And therefore went vnto these homely townes,
Sweetly enuiron'd with the Dazied Downes.
But somewhat in my mind this thought had thrown,
It was a place wherein I was not knowne.
And therefore went vnto these homely townes,
Sweetly enuiron'd with the Dazied Downes.
Vpon a streame washing a village end
A Mill is plac'd, that neuer difference kend
Twixt dayes for worke, and holy-tides for rest,
But alwaies wrought & ground the neighbors grest.
Before the doore I saw the Miller walking,
And other two (his neighbours) with him talking:
One of them was a Weauer, and the other
The Village Tayler, and his trusty brother;
To them I came, and thus my suit began:
Content, the riches of a Country-man,
Attend your Actions, be more happy still,
Then I am haplesse! and as yonder Mill,
Though in his turning it obey the streame,
Yet by the head-strong torrent from his beame
Is vnremou'd, and till the wheele be tore,
It daily toyles; then rests, and workes no more:
So in lifes motion may you neuer be
(Though swayd with griefes) o'er-borne with misery.
A Mill is plac'd, that neuer difference kend
116
But alwaies wrought & ground the neighbors grest.
Before the doore I saw the Miller walking,
And other two (his neighbours) with him talking:
One of them was a Weauer, and the other
The Village Tayler, and his trusty brother;
To them I came, and thus my suit began:
Content, the riches of a Country-man,
Attend your Actions, be more happy still,
Then I am haplesse! and as yonder Mill,
Though in his turning it obey the streame,
Yet by the head-strong torrent from his beame
Is vnremou'd, and till the wheele be tore,
It daily toyles; then rests, and workes no more:
So in lifes motion may you neuer be
(Though swayd with griefes) o'er-borne with misery.
With that the Miller laughing, brush'd his cloathes,
Then swore by Cocke and other dung-hill oathes,
I greatly was to blame, that durst so wade
Into the knowledge of the Wheel-wrights trade.
I, neighbour, quoth the Tayler (then he bent
His pace to me, spruce like a Iacke of Lent)
Your iudgement is not seame-rent when you spend it,
Nor is it botching, for I cannot mend it.
And Maiden, let me tell you in displeasure,
You must not presse the cloth you cannot measure:
But let your steps be stitcht to wisdomes chalking,
And cast presumptuous shreds out of your walking.
The Weauer said, Fie wench, your selfe you wrong,
Thus to let slip the shuttle of your rong:
For marke me well, yea, marke me well, I say,
I see you worke your speeches Web astray.
Then swore by Cocke and other dung-hill oathes,
I greatly was to blame, that durst so wade
Into the knowledge of the Wheel-wrights trade.
I, neighbour, quoth the Tayler (then he bent
His pace to me, spruce like a Iacke of Lent)
Your iudgement is not seame-rent when you spend it,
Nor is it botching, for I cannot mend it.
And Maiden, let me tell you in displeasure,
You must not presse the cloth you cannot measure:
But let your steps be stitcht to wisdomes chalking,
And cast presumptuous shreds out of your walking.
The Weauer said, Fie wench, your selfe you wrong,
Thus to let slip the shuttle of your rong:
For marke me well, yea, marke me well, I say,
I see you worke your speeches Web astray.
Sad to the Soule, o'er laid with idle words,
O heauen, quoth I, where is the place affords
A friend to helpe, or any heart that ruth
The most deiected hopes of wronged Truth?
Truth! quoth the Miller, plainly for our parts,
I and the Weauer hate thee with our hearts:
The strifes you raise I will not now discusse,
Betweene our honest Customers and vs:
But get you gone, for sure you may despaire
Of comfort here, seeke it some other-where.
Maid (quoth the Tayler) we no succour owe you,
For as I guesse her's none of vs doth know you:
Nor my remembrance any thought can seize
That I haue euer seene you in my dayes.
Seene you? nay, therein confident I am;
Nay, till this time I neuer heard your name,
Excepting once, and by this token chiefe,
My neighbour at that instant cald me thiefe,
By this you see you are vnknowne among vs,
We cannot help you, though your stay may wrong vs.
O heauen, quoth I, where is the place affords
A friend to helpe, or any heart that ruth
The most deiected hopes of wronged Truth?
117
I and the Weauer hate thee with our hearts:
The strifes you raise I will not now discusse,
Betweene our honest Customers and vs:
But get you gone, for sure you may despaire
Of comfort here, seeke it some other-where.
Maid (quoth the Tayler) we no succour owe you,
For as I guesse her's none of vs doth know you:
Nor my remembrance any thought can seize
That I haue euer seene you in my dayes.
Seene you? nay, therein confident I am;
Nay, till this time I neuer heard your name,
Excepting once, and by this token chiefe,
My neighbour at that instant cald me thiefe,
By this you see you are vnknowne among vs,
We cannot help you, though your stay may wrong vs.
Thus went I on, and further went in woe:
For as shrill sounding Fame, that's neuer slow,
Growes in her going, and increaseth more,
Where she is now, then where she was before:
So Griefe (that neuer healthy, euer sicke,
That froward Scholler to Arethmeticke,
Who doth Diuision and Substraction flie,
And chiefly learnes to adde and multiply)
In longest iourneys hath the strongest strength,
And is at hand, supprest, vnquaild at length.
For as shrill sounding Fame, that's neuer slow,
Growes in her going, and increaseth more,
Where she is now, then where she was before:
So Griefe (that neuer healthy, euer sicke,
That froward Scholler to Arethmeticke,
Who doth Diuision and Substraction flie,
And chiefly learnes to adde and multiply)
In longest iourneys hath the strongest strength,
And is at hand, supprest, vnquaild at length.
Betweene two hils, the highest Phœbus sees
Gallantly crownd with large Skie-kissing trees,
Vnder whose shade the humble vallies lay;
And Wilde-Bores from their dens their gambols play:
There lay a graueld walke ore-growne with greene,
Where neither tract of man nor beast was seene.
And as the Plow-man when the land he tils,
Throwes vp the fruitfull earth in ridged hils,
Betweene whose Cheuron forme he leaues a balke;
So twixt those hils had Nature fram'd this walke,
Not ouer-darke, nor light, in angles bending,
And like the gliding of a Snake descending:
All husht and silent as the mid of night:
No chattring Pie, nor Crow appear'd in sight;
But further in I heard the Turtle-Doue,
Singing sad Dirges on her lifelesse Loue.
Birds that compassion from the rocks could bring,
Had onely license in that place to sing:
Whose dolefull noates the melancholly Cat
Close in a hollow tree sate wondring at.
And Trees that on the hill-side comely grew,
When any little blast of Æol blew,
Did nod their curled heads, as they would be
The Iudges to approue their melody.
Gallantly crownd with large Skie-kissing trees,
Vnder whose shade the humble vallies lay;
And Wilde-Bores from their dens their gambols play:
There lay a graueld walke ore-growne with greene,
Where neither tract of man nor beast was seene.
And as the Plow-man when the land he tils,
Throwes vp the fruitfull earth in ridged hils,
Betweene whose Cheuron forme he leaues a balke;
So twixt those hils had Nature fram'd this walke,
118
And like the gliding of a Snake descending:
All husht and silent as the mid of night:
No chattring Pie, nor Crow appear'd in sight;
But further in I heard the Turtle-Doue,
Singing sad Dirges on her lifelesse Loue.
Birds that compassion from the rocks could bring,
Had onely license in that place to sing:
Whose dolefull noates the melancholly Cat
Close in a hollow tree sate wondring at.
And Trees that on the hill-side comely grew,
When any little blast of Æol blew,
Did nod their curled heads, as they would be
The Iudges to approue their melody.
Iust halfe the way this solitary Groue,
A Crystall Spring from either hill-side stroue,
Which of them first should wooe the meeker ground,
And make the Pibbles dance vnto their sound.
But as when children hauing leaue to play,
And neare their Masters eye sport out the day,
(Beyond condition) in their childish toyes
Oft vex their Tutor with too great a noyse,
And make him send some seruant out of doore,
To cease their clamour, lest they play no more:
So when the prettie Rill a place espies,
Where with the Pibbles she would wantonize;
And that her vpper streame so much doth wrong her
To driue her thence, and let her play no longer;
If she with too loud mutt'ring ran away,
As being [too] much incens'd to leaue her play;
A westerne milde, and pretty whispering gale,
Came dallying with the leaues along the dale,
And seem'd as with the water it did chide,
Because it ran so long vnpacifide:
Yea, and me thought it bade her leaue that coyle,
Or he would choake her vp with leaues and soyle:
Whereat the riuelet in my minde did weepe,
And hurl'd her head into a silent deepe.
A Crystall Spring from either hill-side stroue,
Which of them first should wooe the meeker ground,
And make the Pibbles dance vnto their sound.
But as when children hauing leaue to play,
And neare their Masters eye sport out the day,
(Beyond condition) in their childish toyes
Oft vex their Tutor with too great a noyse,
And make him send some seruant out of doore,
To cease their clamour, lest they play no more:
So when the prettie Rill a place espies,
Where with the Pibbles she would wantonize;
And that her vpper streame so much doth wrong her
To driue her thence, and let her play no longer;
If she with too loud mutt'ring ran away,
As being [too] much incens'd to leaue her play;
A westerne milde, and pretty whispering gale,
Came dallying with the leaues along the dale,
And seem'd as with the water it did chide,
Because it ran so long vnpacifide:
Yea, and me thought it bade her leaue that coyle,
Or he would choake her vp with leaues and soyle:
119
And hurl'd her head into a silent deepe.
Now he that guides the Chariot of the Sunne,
Vpon th' Eclipticke Circle had so runne,
That his brasse-hoof'd fire-breathing horses wan
The stately height of the Meridian:
And the day-lab'ring man (who all the morne
Had from the quarry with his Pick-axe torne
A large well squared stone, which he would cut
To serue his stile, or for some water-shut)
Seeing the Sunne preparing to decline,
Tooke out his Bag, and sate him downe to dine.
When by a sliding, yet not steepe descent,
I gain'd a place, ne'er Poet did inuent
The like for sorrow: not in all this Round
A fitter seat for passion can be found.
Vpon th' Eclipticke Circle had so runne,
That his brasse-hoof'd fire-breathing horses wan
The stately height of the Meridian:
And the day-lab'ring man (who all the morne
Had from the quarry with his Pick-axe torne
A large well squared stone, which he would cut
To serue his stile, or for some water-shut)
Seeing the Sunne preparing to decline,
Tooke out his Bag, and sate him downe to dine.
When by a sliding, yet not steepe descent,
I gain'd a place, ne'er Poet did inuent
The like for sorrow: not in all this Round
A fitter seat for passion can be found.
As when a dainty Fount, and Crystall Spring,
Got newly from the earths imprisoning,
And ready prest some channell cleere to win,
Is round his rise by Rockes immured in,
And from the thirsty earth would be with-held,
Till to the Cesterne top the waues haue swell'd:
But that a carefull Hinde the Well hath found,
As he walkes sadly through his parched ground;
Whose patience suffring not his land to stay
Vntill the water o'er the Cesterne play,
He gets a Picke-axe and with blowes so stout,
Digs on the Rocke, that all the groues about
Resound his stroke, and still the rocke doth charge,
Till he hath made a hole both long and large,
Whereby the waters from their prison run,
To close earths gaping wounds made by the Sun:
So through these high rais'd hils, embracing round
This shady, sad, and solitary ground,
Some power (respecting one whose heauy mone
Requir'd a place to sit and weepe alone)
Had cut a path, whereby the grieued wight
Might freely take the comfort of this Scyte.
About the edges of whose roundly forme,
In order grew such Trees as doe adorne
The sable hearse, and sad forsaken mate;
And Trees whose teares their losse commiserate,
Such are the Cypresse, and the weeping Myrrhe,
The dropping Amber, and the refin'd Fyrrhe,
The bleeding Vine, the watry Sicamour,
And Willough for the forlorne Paramour;
In comely distance: vnderneath whose shade
Most neat in rudenesse Nature arbors made:
Some had a light; some so obscure a seat,
Would entertaine a sufferance ne'er so great:
Where grieued wights sate (as I after found,
Whose heauy hearts the height of sorrow crown'd)
Wailing in saddest tunes the doomes of Fate
On men by vertue cleeped fortunate.
Got newly from the earths imprisoning,
And ready prest some channell cleere to win,
Is round his rise by Rockes immured in,
And from the thirsty earth would be with-held,
Till to the Cesterne top the waues haue swell'd:
But that a carefull Hinde the Well hath found,
As he walkes sadly through his parched ground;
Whose patience suffring not his land to stay
Vntill the water o'er the Cesterne play,
He gets a Picke-axe and with blowes so stout,
Digs on the Rocke, that all the groues about
Resound his stroke, and still the rocke doth charge,
Till he hath made a hole both long and large,
Whereby the waters from their prison run,
To close earths gaping wounds made by the Sun:
So through these high rais'd hils, embracing round
This shady, sad, and solitary ground,
Some power (respecting one whose heauy mone
Requir'd a place to sit and weepe alone)
120
Might freely take the comfort of this Scyte.
About the edges of whose roundly forme,
In order grew such Trees as doe adorne
The sable hearse, and sad forsaken mate;
And Trees whose teares their losse commiserate,
Such are the Cypresse, and the weeping Myrrhe,
The dropping Amber, and the refin'd Fyrrhe,
The bleeding Vine, the watry Sicamour,
And Willough for the forlorne Paramour;
In comely distance: vnderneath whose shade
Most neat in rudenesse Nature arbors made:
Some had a light; some so obscure a seat,
Would entertaine a sufferance ne'er so great:
Where grieued wights sate (as I after found,
Whose heauy hearts the height of sorrow crown'd)
Wailing in saddest tunes the doomes of Fate
On men by vertue cleeped fortunate.
The first note that I heard I soone was won,
To thinke the sighes of faire Endymion;
The subiect of whose mournfull heauy lay
Was his declining with faire Cynthia.
To thinke the sighes of faire Endymion;
The subiect of whose mournfull heauy lay
Was his declining with faire Cynthia.
Next him a great man sate, in woe no lesse;
Teares were but barren shadowes to expresse
The substance of his griefe, and therefore stood
Distilling from his heart red streames of blood:
He was a Swaine whom all the Graces kist,
A braue, heroicke, worthy Martialist:
Yet on the Downes he oftentimes was seene
To draw the merry Maidens of the Greene
With his sweet voyce: Once, as he sate alone,
He sung the outrage of the lazy Drone,
Vpon the lab'ring Bee, in straines so rare,
That all the flitting Pinnionists of ayre
Attentiue sate, and in their kindes did long
To learne some Noat from his well-timed Song.
Teares were but barren shadowes to expresse
The substance of his griefe, and therefore stood
Distilling from his heart red streames of blood:
He was a Swaine whom all the Graces kist,
A braue, heroicke, worthy Martialist:
Yet on the Downes he oftentimes was seene
To draw the merry Maidens of the Greene
With his sweet voyce: Once, as he sate alone,
He sung the outrage of the lazy Drone,
Vpon the lab'ring Bee, in straines so rare,
That all the flitting Pinnionists of ayre
Attentiue sate, and in their kindes did long
To learne some Noat from his well-timed Song.
121
Exiled Naso (from whose golden pen
The Muses did distill delights for men)
Thus sang of Cepalus (whose name was worne
Within the bosome of the blushing Morn:)
He had a dart was neuer set on wing,
But death flew with it: he could neuer fling,
But life fled from the place where stucke the head.
A Hunters frolicke life in Woods he lead
In separation from his yoaked Mate,
Whose beauty, once, he valued at a rate
Beyond Aurora's cheeke, when she (in pride)
Promis'd their off-spring should be Deifide:
Procris she hight; who (seeking to restore
Her selfe that happinesse she had before)
Vnto the greene wood wends, omits no paine
Might bring her to her Lords embrace againe:
But Fate thus crost her, comming where he lay
Wearied with hunting all a Summers day,
He somewhat heard within the thicket rush,
And deeming it some Beast, hid in a bush,
Raised himselfe, then set on wing a dart,
Which tooke a sad rest in the restlesse heart
Of his chaste wife; who with a bleeding brest
Left loue and life, and slept in endlesse rest.
With Procris heauie Fate this Shepherds wrong
Might be compar'd, and aske as sad a song.
The Muses did distill delights for men)
Thus sang of Cepalus (whose name was worne
Within the bosome of the blushing Morn:)
He had a dart was neuer set on wing,
But death flew with it: he could neuer fling,
But life fled from the place where stucke the head.
A Hunters frolicke life in Woods he lead
In separation from his yoaked Mate,
Whose beauty, once, he valued at a rate
Beyond Aurora's cheeke, when she (in pride)
Promis'd their off-spring should be Deifide:
Procris she hight; who (seeking to restore
Her selfe that happinesse she had before)
Vnto the greene wood wends, omits no paine
Might bring her to her Lords embrace againe:
But Fate thus crost her, comming where he lay
Wearied with hunting all a Summers day,
He somewhat heard within the thicket rush,
And deeming it some Beast, hid in a bush,
Raised himselfe, then set on wing a dart,
Which tooke a sad rest in the restlesse heart
Of his chaste wife; who with a bleeding brest
Left loue and life, and slept in endlesse rest.
With Procris heauie Fate this Shepherds wrong
Might be compar'd, and aske as sad a song.
In th' Autumne of his youth, and manhoods Spring,
Desert (growne now a most deiected thing)
Won him the fauour of a Royall Maid,
Who with Diana's Nymphs in forests stray'd,
And liu'd a Huntresse life exempt from feare.
She once encountred with a surly Beare,
Neare to a Crystall Fountaines flowery brink
Heat brought them thither both, and both would drinke,
When from her golden quiuer she tooke forth
A Dart, aboue the rest esteem'd for worth,
And sent it to his side: the gaping wound
Gaue purple streames to coole the parched ground.
Whereat he gnasht his teeth, storm'd his hurt lym,
Yeelded the earth what it denied him:
Yet sunke not there, but (wrapt in horror) hy'd
Vnto his hellish caue, despair'd and dy'd.
Desert (growne now a most deiected thing)
Won him the fauour of a Royall Maid,
Who with Diana's Nymphs in forests stray'd,
And liu'd a Huntresse life exempt from feare.
She once encountred with a surly Beare,
Neare to a Crystall Fountaines flowery brink
Heat brought them thither both, and both would drinke,
When from her golden quiuer she tooke forth
A Dart, aboue the rest esteem'd for worth,
122
Gaue purple streames to coole the parched ground.
Whereat he gnasht his teeth, storm'd his hurt lym,
Yeelded the earth what it denied him:
Yet sunke not there, but (wrapt in horror) hy'd
Vnto his hellish caue, despair'd and dy'd.
After the Beares just death, the quickning Sunne
Had twice six times about the Zodiacke run,
And (as respectlesse) neuer cast an eye,
Vpon the night-inuail'd Cymmerij,
When this braue Swaine (approued valorous)
In opposition, of a tyrannous
And bloody Sauage being long time gone
Quelling his rage with faithlesse Gerion
Returned from the stratagems of warres,
(Inriched with his quail'd foes bootlesse scarres)
To see the cleare eyes of his dearest Loue,
And that her skill in hearbs might helpe remoue
The freshing of a wound which he had got
In her defence, by Enuies poyson'd shot,
And comming through a Groue wherein his faire
Lay with her brests displai'd to take the aire,
His rushing through the boughes made her arise,
And dreading some wilde beasts rude enterprize,
Directs towards the noyse a sharpned dart,
That reach'd the life of his vndaunted heart,
Which when shee knew, twice twenty Moones nie spent
In teares for him, and dy'd in languishment.
Had twice six times about the Zodiacke run,
And (as respectlesse) neuer cast an eye,
Vpon the night-inuail'd Cymmerij,
When this braue Swaine (approued valorous)
In opposition, of a tyrannous
And bloody Sauage being long time gone
Quelling his rage with faithlesse Gerion
Returned from the stratagems of warres,
(Inriched with his quail'd foes bootlesse scarres)
To see the cleare eyes of his dearest Loue,
And that her skill in hearbs might helpe remoue
The freshing of a wound which he had got
In her defence, by Enuies poyson'd shot,
And comming through a Groue wherein his faire
Lay with her brests displai'd to take the aire,
His rushing through the boughes made her arise,
And dreading some wilde beasts rude enterprize,
Directs towards the noyse a sharpned dart,
That reach'd the life of his vndaunted heart,
Which when shee knew, twice twenty Moones nie spent
In teares for him, and dy'd in languishment.
Within an arbour shadow'd with a Vine,
Mixed with Rosemary and Eglantine,
A Shepherdesse was set, as faire as young,
Whose praise full many a Shepherd whilome sung,
Who on an Altar faire had to her Name,
In consecration many an Anagram:
And when with sugred straines they stroue to raise
Worth, to a garland of immortall Bayes;
She as the learnedst Maid was chose by them,
(Her flaxen haire crown'd with an Anadem)
To iudge who best deseru'd, for she could fit
The height of praise vnto the height of wit.
But well-a-day those happy times were gone,
(Millions admit a small subtraction.)
Mixed with Rosemary and Eglantine,
A Shepherdesse was set, as faire as young,
Whose praise full many a Shepherd whilome sung,
Who on an Altar faire had to her Name,
In consecration many an Anagram:
And when with sugred straines they stroue to raise
Worth, to a garland of immortall Bayes;
123
(Her flaxen haire crown'd with an Anadem)
To iudge who best deseru'd, for she could fit
The height of praise vnto the height of wit.
But well-a-day those happy times were gone,
(Millions admit a small subtraction.)
And as the Yeere hath first his iocund Spring,
Wherein the Leaues, to Birds sweet carrolling,
Dance with the winde: then sees, the Summers day
Perfect the Embrion Blossome of each spray:
Next commeth Autumne, when the threshed sheafe
Loseth his graine, and every tree his leafe:
Lastly, cold Winters rage, with many a storme,
Threats the proud Pines which Ida's top adorne,
And makes the sap leaue succourlesse the shoot,
Shrinking to comfort his decaying root.
Or as a quaint Musitian being won,
To run a point of sweet Diuision,
Gets by degrees vnto the highest Key;
Then, with like order falleth in his play
Into a deeper Tone; and lastly, throwes
His Period in a Diapazon Close:
So euery humane thing terrestriall,
His vtmost height attain'd, bends to his fall.
And as a comely youth, in fairest age,
Enamour'd on a Maid (whose parentage
Had Fate adorn'd, as Nature deckt her eye,
Might at a becke command a Monarchie)
But poore and faire could neuer yet bewitch
A misers minde, preferring foule and rich,
And therefore (as a Kings heart left behinde,
When as his corps are borne to be enshrin'd)
(His Parents will, a Law) like that dead corse,
Leauing his heart, is brought vnto his Horse,
Carried vnto a place that can impart
No secret Embassie vnto his heart,
Climbes some proud hill, whose stately eminence
Vassals the fruitfull vales circumference:
From whence, no sooner can his lights descry
The place enriched by his Mistresse eye:
But some thicke cloud his happy prospect blends,
And he in sorrow rais'd, in teares descends:
So this sad Nymph (whom all commiserate)
Once pac'd the hill of Greatnesse and of State,
And got the top; but when she gan addresse
Her sight, from thence to see true happinesse,
Fate interpos'd an enuious cloud of feares,
And she with-drew into this vale of teares,
Where Sorrow so enthral'd best Vertues Iewell,
Stones check'd griefs hardnes, call'd her too-too cruel,
A streame of teares vpon her faire cheekes flowes,
As morning dew vpon the Damaske-Rose,
Or Crystall-glasse vailing Vermilion;
Or drops of Milke on the Carnation:
She sang and wept (ô yee Sea-binding Cleeues,
Yeeld Tributary drops, for Vertue grieues!)
And to the Period of her sad sweet Key
Intwinn'd her case with chaste Penelope:
But see the drisling South, my mournfull straine
Answers, in weeping drops of quickning raine,
And since this day we can no further goe,
Restlesse I rest within this Vale of Woe,
Vntill the modest morne on earths vast Zone,
The euer gladsome day shall re-inthrone.
Wherein the Leaues, to Birds sweet carrolling,
Dance with the winde: then sees, the Summers day
Perfect the Embrion Blossome of each spray:
Next commeth Autumne, when the threshed sheafe
Loseth his graine, and every tree his leafe:
Lastly, cold Winters rage, with many a storme,
Threats the proud Pines which Ida's top adorne,
And makes the sap leaue succourlesse the shoot,
Shrinking to comfort his decaying root.
Or as a quaint Musitian being won,
To run a point of sweet Diuision,
Gets by degrees vnto the highest Key;
Then, with like order falleth in his play
Into a deeper Tone; and lastly, throwes
His Period in a Diapazon Close:
So euery humane thing terrestriall,
His vtmost height attain'd, bends to his fall.
And as a comely youth, in fairest age,
Enamour'd on a Maid (whose parentage
Had Fate adorn'd, as Nature deckt her eye,
Might at a becke command a Monarchie)
But poore and faire could neuer yet bewitch
A misers minde, preferring foule and rich,
And therefore (as a Kings heart left behinde,
When as his corps are borne to be enshrin'd)
(His Parents will, a Law) like that dead corse,
Leauing his heart, is brought vnto his Horse,
Carried vnto a place that can impart
No secret Embassie vnto his heart,
124
Vassals the fruitfull vales circumference:
From whence, no sooner can his lights descry
The place enriched by his Mistresse eye:
But some thicke cloud his happy prospect blends,
And he in sorrow rais'd, in teares descends:
So this sad Nymph (whom all commiserate)
Once pac'd the hill of Greatnesse and of State,
And got the top; but when she gan addresse
Her sight, from thence to see true happinesse,
Fate interpos'd an enuious cloud of feares,
And she with-drew into this vale of teares,
Where Sorrow so enthral'd best Vertues Iewell,
Stones check'd griefs hardnes, call'd her too-too cruel,
A streame of teares vpon her faire cheekes flowes,
As morning dew vpon the Damaske-Rose,
Or Crystall-glasse vailing Vermilion;
Or drops of Milke on the Carnation:
She sang and wept (ô yee Sea-binding Cleeues,
Yeeld Tributary drops, for Vertue grieues!)
And to the Period of her sad sweet Key
Intwinn'd her case with chaste Penelope:
But see the drisling South, my mournfull straine
Answers, in weeping drops of quickning raine,
And since this day we can no further goe,
Restlesse I rest within this Vale of Woe,
Vntill the modest morne on earths vast Zone,
The euer gladsome day shall re-inthrone.
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