University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Pandora

The Musyque of the beautie of his Mistresse Diana. Composed by John Soowthern ... and dedicated to the right Honorable, Edward Deuer, Earle of Oxenford, &c
  
  

collapse section 
collapse section1. 
 1. 
  
  
 2. 
  
  
 3. 
  
  
collapse section 
  
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
collapse section 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 8. 
 9. 
 10. 
collapse section 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 11. 
 12. 
 13. 
 2. 
Ode. 2. to his Diana.
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  

Ode. 2. to his Diana.

Strophe

As the little Melisset flyes,
(Wanton enfantines of the Skyes)


With their theeuishe pretie tongettes,
Take the best of the fayrest blomes,
Masoning it on their thyettes,
And therewith build their honny commes.
Euenso with a sprite vigelant,
I robbe heere, the most excellant
Blossomes: in the garden Tbebêin.
And will that through the vniuerce,
The honny destyld in my verce:
Beare out these fayre greene eies of thine.
And I will that our England see,
By this Nectar, that I let fall
On thee to annoint thee with all,
What kinde of beauties are in thee.

Antistrophe.

All the superbus frontispisses,
And all the threatning ediffices,
And all the high buildinges are lost,
Of Corinthia, in pride extreeme.
But that which their Poets did bost,
will euer triumph ouer tyme.
I I golde is Eliths Palase:
And golde is the Church of Parnasse:
And these that can enter therein,
Happy are they, and euer shall
Treade on the blacke roofe enfernall,
Liuing with the enfant Troyen,
That fylles the Nectar Olympien,
Into the great coope of the God,
That thondred the menacing head,
Of the high Orgullus Phlegren,


What, what, my too cruell Diana,
A number haue excelde in Beautæ:
And yet it is onelie Hellina,
That lyues: and where in saue in Poisæ.

Epode.

But thou for whome I writ so well:
And that I wyll make eternell.
And thou for whome my holie paines,
Dooth chase ignoraunce held so long:
Conioyning in a vulgar song:
The secretes, both Greekes, and Lataines.
Think'st thou it is nothing, to haue
The penne of Soothern for thy trompet.
Yes, yes, to whome Soothern is Poëte,
The honour goes not to the graue.
And Iuno, it's an other thing,
To heare a well learned voice sing,
Or to see workes of a wise hand:
Then it's to heare our doting rimors,
Whose labours doo bring both dishonors,
To themselues, and to our England.