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HYMONS Song.
Thou Hebe sweet which in the heauens doest stay,
And to the gods doest heauenly Manna bring,
Fly from the skyes, packe hence with speed away:
In earth below there is a fairer thing,
A Nymph it is, the fayrest of all fayre,
Who (thou being gone) must where thou art repayre.
And to the gods doest heauenly Manna bring,
Fly from the skyes, packe hence with speed away:
In earth below there is a fairer thing,
A Nymph it is, the fayrest of all fayre,
Who (thou being gone) must where thou art repayre.
For Iupiter being moou'd with her good grace,
Will thee despise, and her in stead prefer:
With enuie burst to be in such disgrace,
And dye for griefe. The goddes sometimes do erre,
Sith they so fickle seeme, and chuse to change,
When fancie stirres their wauering mindes to range.
Will thee despise, and her in stead prefer:
With enuie burst to be in such disgrace,
And dye for griefe. The goddes sometimes do erre,
Sith they so fickle seeme, and chuse to change,
When fancie stirres their wauering mindes to range.
Depatt not yet, from heauen thou shalt not wend,
Vse diligence the goddes againe to please.
Let Mersa rest: sweet Mersa on earth attend,
My troubled thoughtes and pensiue cares to ease.
Without whose grace nothing can pleasant be,
Nor ought remaine a hearts rest vnto me.
Vse diligence the goddes againe to please.
Let Mersa rest: sweet Mersa on earth attend,
My troubled thoughtes and pensiue cares to ease.
Without whose grace nothing can pleasant be,
Nor ought remaine a hearts rest vnto me.
How oft tuckt vp like Amazonian Dame,
With bowe and quiuer tracing these groues among,
Following the Deare, or els some other game,
And killing oft the fayrest in the throng.
The goddes them-selues being mooued with her loue,
To winne the same in vaine full oft did prooue,
With bowe and quiuer tracing these groues among,
Following the Deare, or els some other game,
And killing oft the fayrest in the throng.
The goddes them-selues being mooued with her loue,
To winne the same in vaine full oft did prooue,
They proffer kisses sweet and giftes in vaine,
They garlands make of choyce and finest flowers,
They bring her fruit, but nought of her they gaine,
They smyle and sing, she looketh coy and lowres.
Full of disdaine her tramels she doth shake,
Which makes the stowtest of vs all to quake.
They garlands make of choyce and finest flowers,
They bring her fruit, but nought of her they gaine,
They smyle and sing, she looketh coy and lowres.
Full of disdaine her tramels she doth shake,
Which makes the stowtest of vs all to quake.
O would she were not so hard to be pleas'd,
O would she shewed more gentle fauour to me.
Happier then I, could nothing then be prais'd,
But she reiect'th my louing lasse to be.
She doth despise my prayers, and griefs disdaynes,
She flies from me, which still my poore heart paynes.
O would she shewed more gentle fauour to me.
Happier then I, could nothing then be prais'd,
But she reiect'th my louing lasse to be.
She doth despise my prayers, and griefs disdaynes,
She flies from me, which still my poore heart paynes.
O Mersa stay, flye not so fast from me,
Faire Mersa stay, no Lestrigonian bruit,
Doth make pursuit to feed his lust on thee:
But one, if thou him knew, whose honest suit,
Is worthy of the same he doth desire,
And burnes for thee with chast and holy fire.
Faire Mersa stay, no Lestrigonian bruit,
Doth make pursuit to feed his lust on thee:
But one, if thou him knew, whose honest suit,
Is worthy of the same he doth desire,
And burnes for thee with chast and holy fire.
And though my corps doth sauage seeme with haire,
And beard vnkempt an vgly thing to see:
Yet am not I deform'd, for beard is faire,
And hayres decent for such as valiant be.
When strong men fight nyce meacocks they do feare,
And Schools to daunce, and not to fence they reare.
And beard vnkempt an vgly thing to see:
Yet am not I deform'd, for beard is faire,
And hayres decent for such as valiant be.
When strong men fight nyce meacocks they do feare,
And Schools to daunce, and not to fence they reare.
If ought for wealth thou likest, a shepheards stocke
I haue, and few doth more then I possesse:
For heards I keepe, and eake full many a flocke,
A thousand kine do feed on finest grasse,
Of swine great store, and cattell fat withall,
And goates in rockes their bleating kiddes to call.
I haue, and few doth more then I possesse:
For heards I keepe, and eake full many a flocke,
A thousand kine do feed on finest grasse,
Of swine great store, and cattell fat withall,
And goates in rockes their bleating kiddes to call.
Store of throme milke in season still I haue,
My chest is full of cheeses new and olde,
Take what thou wilt, thou need'st not ought to craue,
For all I haue is thine, whereof be bolde.
My selfe also (though thou the same refuse)
Is at thy becke, thereof to take the vse.
Take what thou wilt, thou need'st not ought to craue,
For all I haue is thine, whereof be bolde.
My selfe also (though thou the same refuse)
Is at thy becke, thereof to take the vse.
If thou would'st daine to walke sometimes with me,
Gather I would the Apples mello we fine,
And clustring grapes with full ripe figges for thee,
And Filberds kernels eake if thou were mine:
With these I would thee eramme my prettie peate,
For whome great store of bloody droppes I sweate.
Gather I would the Apples mello we fine,
And clustring grapes with full ripe figges for thee,
And Filberds kernels eake if thou were mine:
With these I would thee eramme my prettie peate,
For whome great store of bloody droppes I sweate.
Howe oft would I thy tender corpes then clippe,
And eke the same in folded armes combine,
With thousand kisses would I presse thy lippe:
Doubt not of these: to pittie eke incline,
And come with me (least that my paine increase)
To cure my care, and thraldome to release.
And eke the same in folded armes combine,
With thousand kisses would I presse thy lippe:
Doubt not of these: to pittie eke incline,
And come with me (least that my paine increase)
To cure my care, and thraldome to release.
By pleasant springs our ease then we will take,
Embracing there sweete sleepe will vs depriue
Of wanton sport: when semblance we do make,
Not howe with gaine and lucre for to thriue,
(In silent shades) but of meane mirth and ioye,
When greatest minde we haue to wanton toye.
Embracing there sweete sleepe will vs depriue
Of wanton sport: when semblance we do make,
Not howe with gaine and lucre for to thriue,
(In silent shades) but of meane mirth and ioye,
When greatest minde we haue to wanton toye.
The hanging boughes and murmuring streame will striue,
Who best may please and worke our sweete content,
While raging force of Summers heate doeth driue.
Howe deare to me would be thy sweet consent:
Alas thou nought doest weigh my giftes, nor loue,
Whose heart faire speach, nor weeping teares may mooue.
Who best may please and worke our sweete content,
While raging force of Summers heate doeth driue.
Howe deare to me would be thy sweet consent:
Alas thou nought doest weigh my giftes, nor loue,
Whose heart faire speach, nor weeping teares may mooue.
More cruell then the Hircan Tigre fierce,
More deafe then th' Images of Marble made,
More hard than stones that engines none can pierce,
Art thou:in fine whose beautie sure will fade.
Though nature did the same to thee ordaine,
But not true Louers sute for to disdaine.
More deafe then th' Images of Marble made,
Art thou:in fine whose beautie sure will fade.
Though nature did the same to thee ordaine,
But not true Louers sute for to disdaine.
So vnder freshest flowers the Adder lay,
So Hyble hath honie commixt with galle:
Trust not to forme, which with ripe flowers decay,
Forsake thy pride, for pride wil haue a fall.
And while the same in prime doth flourish most,
Loose not the time in vaine, thou crau'st being lost.
So Hyble hath honie commixt with galle:
Trust not to forme, which with ripe flowers decay,
Forsake thy pride, for pride wil haue a fall.
And while the same in prime doth flourish most,
Loose not the time in vaine, thou crau'st being lost.
Vse thy good giftes while thou hast time (each thing
By reason of his vse commended is)
For withered age deformity will bring,
Too late thou wailest when thou doest find the mis
Of thy faire face to wrinkled furrowes turnde,
And thy bright hew with Phœbus beames being burnde.
By reason of his vse commended is)
For withered age deformity will bring,
Too late thou wailest when thou doest find the mis
Of thy faire face to wrinkled furrowes turnde,
And thy bright hew with Phœbus beames being burnde.
How oft in glasse wilt thou behold the same,
And then condemne the follie of thy youth:
That would not hunt, while time affoorded game,
Then shalt thou find the prouerb old a truth,
Which euer was, is, and so will be alwayes,
That time and tyde for no mans pleasure stayes.
And then condemne the follie of thy youth:
That would not hunt, while time affoorded game,
Then shalt thou find the prouerb old a truth,
Which euer was, is, and so will be alwayes,
That time and tyde for no mans pleasure stayes.
But why poure I my plaintes vnto the wind:
Why doe I throwe my seed to barren sande:
I striue in vaine, of fate some fauor to find,
That cruel is my hap for to withstand
Fate, more than gold or gentry doth loue haile,
This scornes the Prince, when subiects do preuaile.
Why doe I throwe my seed to barren sande:
I striue in vaine, of fate some fauor to find,
That cruel is my hap for to withstand
Fate, more than gold or gentry doth loue haile,
This scornes the Prince, when subiects do preuaile.
And though more fyence then serpent thou be set,
Me to annoy that am thy carefull thrall:
For with thy frownes my inward soule doth fret,
Yet will I wait, and eke attend thy call,
And loue thee still, which in my heart shalt rest,
For Mersa alone in mind and mouth is prest.
Me to annoy that am thy carefull thrall:
For with thy frownes my inward soule doth fret,
And loue thee still, which in my heart shalt rest,
For Mersa alone in mind and mouth is prest.
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