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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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Looke as a well-growne stately headed Bucke
But lately by the Wood-mans arrow strucke,
Runs gadding o're the Lawnes, or nimbly straies
Among the combrous Brakes a thousand wayes,
Now through the high-wood scowres, then by the brooks,
On euery hill side, and each vale he lookes,
If 'mongst their store of simples may be found
An hearbe to draw and heale his smarting wound,
But when he long hath sought, and all in vaine,
Steales to the Couert closely backe againe,
Where round ingirt with Ferne more highly sprung,
Striues to appease the raging with his tongue,
And from the speckled Heard absents him till
He be recouer'd somewhat of his ill:
So wounded Pan turnes in his restlesse bed,
But finding thence all ease abandoned,
He rose, and through the wood distracted runs:
Yet carries with him what in vaine he shuns.
Now he exclaim'd on Fate: and wisht he ne're
Had mortall lou'd, or that he mortall were.
And sitting lastly on an Oakes bare trunke
(Where raine in Winter stood long time vnsunke)
His plaints he gan renew, but then the light
That through the boughes flew from the Queene of night,
(As giuing him occasion to repine)
Bewraid an Elme imbraced by a Vine,
Clipping so strictly that they seem'd to be
One in their growth, one shade, one fruit, one tree,
Her boughes his armes, his leaues so mixt with hers,
That with no winde he mou'd, but streight she stirs.

82

As shewing all should be, whom loue combinde:
In motion one, and onely two in kinde.
This more afflicts him while he thinketh most
Not on his losse, but on the substance lost.
O haplesse Pan, had there but beene one by,
To tell thee (though as poore a Swaine as I)
Though (whether casuall meanes or death doe moue)
“We part not without griefe things held with loue:
“Yet in their losse some comfort may be got
“If we doe minde the time we had them not.
This might haue lessen'd somewhat of thy paine,
Or made thee loue as thou mightst loose againe.
If thou the best of women didst forgoe,
Weigh if thou foundst her, or did'st make her so;
If she were found so, know there's more then one;
If made, the Worke-man liues, though she be gone.
Should from mine eyes the light be tane away,
Yet night her pleasures hath as well as day;
And my desires to heauen yeeld lesse offence,
Since blindnesse is a part of Innocence.
So though thy Loue sleepe in eternall night,
Yet there's in loannesse somewhat may delight.
Instead of dalliance, partnership in woes
It wants, the care to keepe, and feare to lose.
For iealousies and fortunes baser pelfe,
He rest inioyes that well inioyes himselfe.