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 Whole Works of William Browne |  |
For as with hanging head I haue beheld
A widow Vine stand in a naked field,
Vnhusbanded, neglected, all-forlorne,
Brouz'd on by Deere, by Cattle cropt and torne:
Vnpropt, vnsuccoured by stake or tree
From wreakfull stormes impetuous tyrannie,
When, had a willing hand lent kinde redresse,
Her pregnant bunches might from out the Presse
Haue sent a liquour both for taste and show
No lesse diuine then those of Malligo:
Such was this wight, and such she might haue beene.
She both th' extremes hath felt of Fortunes teene,
For neuer haue we heard from times of yore,
One sometime enuy'd and now pitti'd more.
Her obiect, as her state, is low as earth;
Priuation her companion; thoughts of mirth
Irkesome; and in one selfe-same circle turning,
With sodaine sports brought to a house of mourning.
Of others good her best beliefe is still
And constant to her owne in nought but ill.
The onely enemy and friend she knowes
Is Death who, though defers, must end her woes;
Her contemplation frightfull as the night;
She neuer lookes on any liuing wight
Without comparison; and as the day
Giues vs, but takes the Glowormes light away:
So the least ray of Blisse on others throwne
Depriues and blinds all knowledge of her owne.
Her comfort is (if for her any be)
That none can shew more cause of griefe then she.
Yet somewhat she of aduerse Fate hath won,
Who had vndone her were she not vndone.
For those that on the Sea of Greatnesse ride
Farre from the quiet shore, and where the tide
In ebbs and floods is ghess'd, not truly knowne;
Expert of all estates except their owne:
Keeping their station at the Helme of State
Not by their Vertues but auspicious Fate:
Subiect to calmes of fauour, stormes of rage,
Their actions noted as the common Stage:
Who, like a man borne blinde that cannot be
By demonstration shewne what 'tis to see,
Liue still in Ignorance of what they want,
Till Misery become the Adamant,
And touch them for that point, to which with speed
None comes so sure as by the hand of Need.
A Mirrour strange she in her right hand bore,
By which her friends from flatterers heretofore
She could distinguish well; and by her side
(As in her full of happinesse) vntide,
Vnforc'd and vncompell'd did sadly goe
(As if partaker of his Mistresse woe)
A louing Spaniell, from whose rugged backe
(The onely thing but death she moanes to lacke).
She plucks the haire, and working them in pleats
Furthers the suit which Modestie intreats.
Men call her Athliot: who cannot be
More wretched made by infelicitie,
Vnlesse she here had an immortall breath,
Or liuing thus, liu'd timorous of death.
A widow Vine stand in a naked field,
Vnhusbanded, neglected, all-forlorne,
Brouz'd on by Deere, by Cattle cropt and torne:
Vnpropt, vnsuccoured by stake or tree
From wreakfull stormes impetuous tyrannie,
When, had a willing hand lent kinde redresse,
Her pregnant bunches might from out the Presse
Haue sent a liquour both for taste and show
No lesse diuine then those of Malligo:
Such was this wight, and such she might haue beene.
She both th' extremes hath felt of Fortunes teene,
For neuer haue we heard from times of yore,
One sometime enuy'd and now pitti'd more.
Her obiect, as her state, is low as earth;
Priuation her companion; thoughts of mirth
Irkesome; and in one selfe-same circle turning,
With sodaine sports brought to a house of mourning.
102
And constant to her owne in nought but ill.
The onely enemy and friend she knowes
Is Death who, though defers, must end her woes;
Her contemplation frightfull as the night;
She neuer lookes on any liuing wight
Without comparison; and as the day
Giues vs, but takes the Glowormes light away:
So the least ray of Blisse on others throwne
Depriues and blinds all knowledge of her owne.
Her comfort is (if for her any be)
That none can shew more cause of griefe then she.
Yet somewhat she of aduerse Fate hath won,
Who had vndone her were she not vndone.
For those that on the Sea of Greatnesse ride
Farre from the quiet shore, and where the tide
In ebbs and floods is ghess'd, not truly knowne;
Expert of all estates except their owne:
Keeping their station at the Helme of State
Not by their Vertues but auspicious Fate:
Subiect to calmes of fauour, stormes of rage,
Their actions noted as the common Stage:
Who, like a man borne blinde that cannot be
By demonstration shewne what 'tis to see,
Liue still in Ignorance of what they want,
Till Misery become the Adamant,
And touch them for that point, to which with speed
None comes so sure as by the hand of Need.
A Mirrour strange she in her right hand bore,
By which her friends from flatterers heretofore
She could distinguish well; and by her side
(As in her full of happinesse) vntide,
Vnforc'd and vncompell'd did sadly goe
(As if partaker of his Mistresse woe)
A louing Spaniell, from whose rugged backe
(The onely thing but death she moanes to lacke).
103
Furthers the suit which Modestie intreats.
Men call her Athliot: who cannot be
More wretched made by infelicitie,
Vnlesse she here had an immortall breath,
Or liuing thus, liu'd timorous of death.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |