Pans Pipe, Three Pastorall Eglogues, in English Hexameter With Other Poetical Verses delightfull. For the further delight of the Reader, the Printer hath annexed hereunto the delectable Poeme of the Fisher-mans Tale [by Francis Sabie] |
 |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
Coridons Sonet.
|
 | Pans Pipe, Three Pastorall Eglogues, in English Hexameter |  |
Coridons Sonet.
Cvpid
took wings, and through the fielde did flie,
A bow in hand, and quiuer at his backe:
And by chance proud Amintas did espie,
As all alone he sate by his flocke.
This sillie swain so statlie minded was,
All other heards he thought he did surpasse.
A bow in hand, and quiuer at his backe:
And by chance proud Amintas did espie,
As all alone he sate by his flocke.
This sillie swain so statlie minded was,
All other heards he thought he did surpasse.
He hated Loue, he hated sweet desire,
Equall to him no wight he esteemed:
Manie a Lasse on him were set on fire,
Worthy of his loue, yet none he deemed.
Out from his sheath he pluckt a leaden dart,
Wherewith he smote the swain vpon the hart.
Equall to him no wight he esteemed:
Manie a Lasse on him were set on fire,
Worthy of his loue, yet none he deemed.
Out from his sheath he pluckt a leaden dart,
Wherewith he smote the swain vpon the hart.
Forthwith he rose, and went a little by,
Leauing his heard, for so wold Cupid haue:
Faire Galatea then he did espie,
Vnder a shade with garland verie braue.
Straitwaies he lou'd, and burn'd in her desire,
No ease he found, the wag had made a fire.
Leauing his heard, for so wold Cupid haue:
Faire Galatea then he did espie,
Vnder a shade with garland verie braue.
Straitwaies he lou'd, and burn'd in her desire,
No ease he found, the wag had made a fire.
He sigh'd, he burn'd, and fryed in this flame,
Yet sillie wretch, her loue he neuer sought,
But pinde away, because he did disdaine,
Cupid him stroke with that vnlucky shaft
Long time he liu'd thus pining in dispair,
Til's life at length flew into th' open aire.
Yet sillie wretch, her loue he neuer sought,
But pinde away, because he did disdaine,
Cupid him stroke with that vnlucky shaft
Til's life at length flew into th' open aire.
Cupid abroad through shadie fieldes did flie,
Now hauing stroke proud Amintas with his shaft:
Poore Coridon by chance he passed by,
As by his heard he sate of ioy bereft.
Sicke, very sick was this lowly swain,
Many that he lik'd, all did him disdaine.
Now hauing stroke proud Amintas with his shaft:
Poore Coridon by chance he passed by,
As by his heard he sate of ioy bereft.
Sicke, very sick was this lowly swain,
Many that he lik'd, all did him disdaine.
Cupid him saw, and pittied him foorthwith,
Chose out a dart among a thousand moe:
Than which a luckier was not in his sheath,
Wherewith he gaue the swaine a mightie blow.
Strait rising vp, Galatea he espide,
Foorthwith he lou'd, and in desier fride.
Chose out a dart among a thousand moe:
Than which a luckier was not in his sheath,
Wherewith he gaue the swaine a mightie blow.
Strait rising vp, Galatea he espide,
Foorthwith he lou'd, and in desier fride.
Ah how she pleasde, pale and red was her face,
Rose-cheek'd as Aurora you haue seene:
A wreath of flowers her seemly head did grace,
Like Flora faire, of shepheards she was Queene.
He passed by, and deemed that she laught,
Her verie lookes did fauour shew, he thought.
Rose-cheek'd as Aurora you haue seene:
A wreath of flowers her seemly head did grace,
Like Flora faire, of shepheards she was Queene.
He passed by, and deemed that she laught,
Her verie lookes did fauour shew, he thought.
Therefore in hast with rude and homelie tearmes,
He did her woo, her hoping to obtaine:
First she denide, at length she did affirme,
She would him loue, she could him not disdaine.
Thus di'd Amintas because he was so coy,
Poore Coridon his loue did thus inioy.
Fa.He did her woo, her hoping to obtaine:
First she denide, at length she did affirme,
She would him loue, she could him not disdaine.
Thus di'd Amintas because he was so coy,
Poore Coridon his loue did thus inioy.
Wel, Coridon hath done, lets heare your melody Damon.
Da.
Help me my chearful Muse, O Pan melodious helpe me,
And wise Apollo to tune the stately progeny of heardsmen.
| Pans Pipe, Three Pastorall Eglogues, in English Hexameter | |