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 | Poems from Englands Helicon (1600) |  |
To his very louing friends, M.Nicholas VVanton, and M. George Faucet.
TO HIS LOVING KINDE FRIEND, Maister Iohn Bodenham.
Wits Common-wealth, the first fruites of thy paines,Drew on Wits Theater, thy second Sonne:
By both of which, I cannot count the gaines,
And wondrous profit that the world hath wonne.
Next, in the Muses Garden, gathering flowres,
Thou mad'st a Nosegay as was neuer sweeter:
Whose sent will sauour to Times latest howres,
And for the greatest Prince no Poesie meeter.
Now comes thy Helicon, to make compleate
And furnish vp thy last impos'd designe:
My paines heerein, I cannot terme it great,
But what-so-ere, my loue (and all) is thine.
Take loue, take paines, take all remaines in me:
And where thou art, my hart still liues with thee.
A. B.
To Colin Cloute.
Beautie sate bathing by a Spring,
where fayrest shades did hide her.
The winds blew calme, the birds did sing,
the coole streames ranne beside her.
My wanton thoughts entic'd mine eye,
to see what was forbidden:
But better Memory said, fie,
so, vaine Desire was chidden.
hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.
where fayrest shades did hide her.
The winds blew calme, the birds did sing,
the coole streames ranne beside her.
My wanton thoughts entic'd mine eye,
to see what was forbidden:
But better Memory said, fie,
so, vaine Desire was chidden.
hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.
Into a slumber then I fell
when fond imagination:
Seemed to see, but could not tell
her feature or her fashion.
But euen as Babes in dreames doo smile,
and sometime fall a weeping:
So I awakt, as wise this while,
as when I fell a sleeping.
hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.
when fond imagination:
her feature or her fashion.
But euen as Babes in dreames doo smile,
and sometime fall a weeping:
So I awakt, as wise this while,
as when I fell a sleeping.
hey nonnie, nonnie, &c.
FINIS.
Sheepheard Tonie.
An other of the same subiect, but made as it were in aunswere.
On a goodly Sommers day,
Harpalus and Phillida,
He a true harted Swaine,
Shee full of coy disdaine,
droue their flocks to field:
Harpalus and Phillida,
He a true harted Swaine,
Shee full of coy disdaine,
droue their flocks to field:
He to see his Sheepheardesse,
She did dreame on nothing lesse,
Then his continuall care,
Which to grim-fac'd Dispaire,
wholely did him yield.
She did dreame on nothing lesse,
Then his continuall care,
Which to grim-fac'd Dispaire,
wholely did him yield.
Corin she affected still,
All the more thy hart to kill.
Thy case dooth make me rue,
That thou should'st loue so true,
and be thus disdain'd:
All the more thy hart to kill.
Thy case dooth make me rue,
That thou should'st loue so true,
and be thus disdain'd:
While their flocks a feeding were,
They did meete together there.
Then with a curtsie lowe,
And sighs that told his woe,
thus to her he plain'd.
They did meete together there.
Then with a curtsie lowe,
And sighs that told his woe,
thus to her he plain'd.
Bide a while faire Phillida,
List what Harpalus will say
Onely in loue to thee,
Though thou respect not mee,
yet vouchsafe an eare:
List what Harpalus will say
Onely in loue to thee,
Though thou respect not mee,
yet vouchsafe an eare:
To preuent ensuing ill,
Which no doubt betide thee will,
If thou doo not fore-see,
To shunne it presentlie,
then thy harme I feare.
Which no doubt betide thee will,
If thou doo not fore-see,
To shunne it presentlie,
then thy harme I feare.
Firme thy loue is, well I wot,
To the man that loues thee not.
Louely and gentle mayde,
Thy hope is quite betrayde,
which my hart doth greeue:
To the man that loues thee not.
Louely and gentle mayde,
Thy hope is quite betrayde,
which my hart doth greeue:
Corin is vnkind to thee,
Though thou thinke contrarie.
His loue is growne as light,
As is his Faulcons flight,
this sweet Nimph beleeue.
Though thou thinke contrarie.
His loue is growne as light,
As is his Faulcons flight,
this sweet Nimph beleeue.
Mopsus daughter, that young mayde,
Her bright eyes his hart hath strayde
From his affecting thee,
Now there is none but shee
that is Corins blisse:
Her bright eyes his hart hath strayde
From his affecting thee,
Now there is none but shee
that is Corins blisse:
Phillis men the Virgin call,
She is Buxome, faire and tall,
Yet not like Phillida:
If I my mind might say,
eyes oft deeme amisse.
She is Buxome, faire and tall,
Yet not like Phillida:
If I my mind might say,
eyes oft deeme amisse.
He commends her beauty rare,
Which with thine may not compare.
He dooth extoll her eye,
Silly thing, if thine were by,
thus conceite can erre:
Which with thine may not compare.
He dooth extoll her eye,
Silly thing, if thine were by,
thus conceite can erre:
He is rauish'd with her breath,
Thine can quicken life in death.
He prayseth all her parts,
Thine, winnes a world of harts,
more, if more there were.
Thine can quicken life in death.
He prayseth all her parts,
Thine, winnes a world of harts,
more, if more there were.
Looke sweet Nimph vpon thy flock,
They stand still, and now feede not,
As if they shar'd with thee:
Greefe for this iniurie,
offred to true loue.
As if they shar'd with thee:
Greefe for this iniurie,
offred to true loue.
Pretty Lambkins, how they moane,
And in bleating seeme to groane,
That any Sheepheards Swaine,
Should cause their Mistres paine:
by affects remoue.
And in bleating seeme to groane,
That any Sheepheards Swaine,
Should cause their Mistres paine:
by affects remoue.
If you looke but on the grasse,
It's not halfe so greene as 'twas:
When I began my tale,
But it is witherd pale,
all in meere remorce.
It's not halfe so greene as 'twas:
When I began my tale,
But it is witherd pale,
all in meere remorce.
Marke the Trees that brag'd euen now,
Of each goodly greene-leau'd-bow,
They seeme as blasted all,
Ready for Winters fall,
such is true loues force.
Of each goodly greene-leau'd-bow,
They seeme as blasted all,
Ready for Winters fall,
such is true loues force.
The gentle murmur of the Springs,
Are become contrary things,
They haue forgot their pride,
And quite forsake their glide,
as if charm'd they stand.
Are become contrary things,
They haue forgot their pride,
And quite forsake their glide,
as if charm'd they stand.
And the flowers growing by,
Late so fresh in euery eye,
See how they hang the head,
As on a suddaine dead,
dropping on the sand.
Late so fresh in euery eye,
See how they hang the head,
As on a suddaine dead,
dropping on the sand.
The birds that chaunted it yer-while,
Ere they hear'd of Corins guile,
Sit as they were afraide,
Or by some hap dismaide,
for this wrong to thee:
Ere they hear'd of Corins guile,
Sit as they were afraide,
Or by some hap dismaide,
for this wrong to thee:
Harke sweet Phil, how Philomell,
That was wont to sing so well,
Iargles now in yonder bush,
Worser then the rudest Trush,
as it were not shee.
That was wont to sing so well,
Iargles now in yonder bush,
as it were not shee.
Phillida, who all this while
Neither gaue a sigh or smile:
Round about the field did gaze,
As her wits were in a maze,
poore despised mayd.
Neither gaue a sigh or smile:
Round about the field did gaze,
As her wits were in a maze,
poore despised mayd.
And reuiued at the last,
After streames of teares were past,
Leaning on her Sheepheards hooke,
With a sad and heauie looke,
thus poore soule she sayd.
After streames of teares were past,
Leaning on her Sheepheards hooke,
With a sad and heauie looke,
thus poore soule she sayd.
Harpalus, I thanke not thee,
For this sorry tale to mee.
Meete me heere againe to morrow,
Then I will conclude my sorrow
mildly, if may be:
For this sorry tale to mee.
Meete me heere againe to morrow,
Then I will conclude my sorrow
mildly, if may be:
With their flocks they home doo fare,
Eythers hart too full of care,
If they doo meete againe,
Then what they furder fayne,
you shall heare from me.
Eythers hart too full of care,
If they doo meete againe,
Then what they furder fayne,
you shall heare from me.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
An excellent Pastorall Dittie.
A carefull Nimph, with carelesse greefe opprest,
vnder the shaddow of an Ashen tree:
With Lute in hand did paint out her vnrest,
vnto a Nimph that bare her companie.
No sooner had she tuned euery string:
But sob'd and sigh'd, and thus began to sing.
vnder the shaddow of an Ashen tree:
With Lute in hand did paint out her vnrest,
vnto a Nimph that bare her companie.
No sooner had she tuned euery string:
But sob'd and sigh'd, and thus began to sing.
Ladies and Nimphs, come listen to my plaint,
on whom the cheerefull Sunne did neuer rise:
If pitties stroakes your tender breasts may taint,
come learne of me to wet your wanton eyes.
For Loue in vaine the name of pleasure beares:
His sweet delights are turned into feares.
on whom the cheerefull Sunne did neuer rise:
If pitties stroakes your tender breasts may taint,
come learne of me to wet your wanton eyes.
For Loue in vaine the name of pleasure beares:
His sweet delights are turned into feares.
The trustlesse shewes, the frights, the feeble ioyes,
the freezing doubts, the guilefull promises:
The feigned lookes, the shifts, the subtill toyes,
the brittle hope, the stedfast heauines.
The wished warre in such vncertaine peace:
These with my woe, my woes with these increase.
the freezing doubts, the guilefull promises:
The feigned lookes, the shifts, the subtill toyes,
the brittle hope, the stedfast heauines.
The wished warre in such vncertaine peace:
These with my woe, my woes with these increase.
Thou dreadfull God, that in thy Mothers lap,
doo'st lye and heare the crie of my complaint,
And seest, and smilest at my sore mishap,
that lacke but skill my sorrowes heere to paint:
Thy fire from heauen before the hurt I spide,
Quite through mine eyes into my brest did glide.
doo'st lye and heare the crie of my complaint,
And seest, and smilest at my sore mishap,
that lacke but skill my sorrowes heere to paint:
Thy fire from heauen before the hurt I spide,
Quite through mine eyes into my brest did glide.
My life was light, my blood did spirt and spring,
my body quicke, my hart began to leape:
And euery thornie thought did prick and sting,
the fruite of my desired ioyes to reape.
But he on whom to thinke, my soule still tyers:
In bale forsooke, and left me in the bryers.
my body quicke, my hart began to leape:
And euery thornie thought did prick and sting,
the fruite of my desired ioyes to reape.
But he on whom to thinke, my soule still tyers:
In bale forsooke, and left me in the bryers.
Thus Fancie strung my Lute to Layes of Loue,
and Loue hath rock'd my wearie Muse a-sleepe:
And sleepe is broken by the paines I proue,
and euery paine I feele dooth force me weepe.
Then farewell fancie, loue, sleepe, paine, and sore:
And farewell weeping, I can waile no more.
and Loue hath rock'd my wearie Muse a-sleepe:
And sleepe is broken by the paines I proue,
and euery paine I feele dooth force me weepe.
Then farewell fancie, loue, sleepe, paine, and sore:
And farewell weeping, I can waile no more.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
Montana the Sheepheard, his loue to Aminta.
I serue
Aminta, whiter then the snowe,
Straighter then Cedar, brighter then the glasse:
More fine in trip, then foote of running Roe,
More pleasant then the field of flowring grasse.
More gladsome to my withering ioyes that fade:
Then Winters Sunne, or Sommers cooling shade.
Straighter then Cedar, brighter then the glasse:
More fine in trip, then foote of running Roe,
More pleasant then the field of flowring grasse.
More gladsome to my withering ioyes that fade:
Then Winters Sunne, or Sommers cooling shade.
Sweeter then swelling Grape of ripest vvine,
Softer then feathers of the fairest Swan:
Smoother then Iet, more stately then the Pine,
Fresher then Poplar, smaller then my span.
Clearer then Phœbus fierie pointed beame:
Or Icie crust of Christalls frozen streame.
Softer then feathers of the fairest Swan:
Smoother then Iet, more stately then the Pine,
Fresher then Poplar, smaller then my span.
Clearer then Phœbus fierie pointed beame:
Or Icie crust of Christalls frozen streame.
Yet is she curster then the Beare by kind,
And harder harted then the aged Oake:
More glib then Oyle, more fickle then the wind,
More stiffe then steele, no sooner bent but broake.
Loe thus my seruice is a lasting sore:
Yet will I serue, although I die therefore.
And harder harted then the aged Oake:
More glib then Oyle, more fickle then the wind,
More stiffe then steele, no sooner bent but broake.
Loe thus my seruice is a lasting sore:
Yet will I serue, although I die therefore.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
The Countesse of Pembrookes Pastorall.
A Sheepheard and a Sheepheardesse,
sate keeping sheepe vpon the downes:
His lookes did gentle blood expresse,
her beauty was no foode for clownes.
Sweet louely twaine, what might you be:
sate keeping sheepe vpon the downes:
His lookes did gentle blood expresse,
her beauty was no foode for clownes.
Sweet louely twaine, what might you be:
Two fronting hills bedect with flowers,
they chose to be each others seate:
And there they stole theyr amorous houres,
with sighes and teares, poore louers meate,
Fond Loue that feed'st thy seruants so.
they chose to be each others seate:
And there they stole theyr amorous houres,
with sighes and teares, poore louers meate,
Fond Loue that feed'st thy seruants so.
Faire freend, quoth he, when shall I liue,
That am halfe dead, yet cannot die?
Can beautie such sharpe guerdon giue,
to him whose life hangs in your eye?
Beautie is milde, and will not kill.
That am halfe dead, yet cannot die?
Can beautie such sharpe guerdon giue,
to him whose life hangs in your eye?
Beautie is milde, and will not kill.
Sweet Swaine, quoth shee, accuse not mee,
that long haue been thy humble thrall:
But blame the angry destinie,
whose kinde consent might finish all,
Vngentle Fate, to crosse true loue.
that long haue been thy humble thrall:
But blame the angry destinie,
whose kinde consent might finish all,
Vngentle Fate, to crosse true loue.
Quoth hee, let not our Parents hate,
disioyne what heauen hath linckt in one:
They may repent, and all too late
if chyldlesse they be left alone.
Father nor freend, should wrong true loue.
disioyne what heauen hath linckt in one:
They may repent, and all too late
if chyldlesse they be left alone.
Father nor freend, should wrong true loue.
The Parents frowne, said shee, is death,
to children that are held in awe:
From them we drew our vitall breath,
they challenge dutie then by law,
Such dutie as kills not true loue.
to children that are held in awe:
From them we drew our vitall breath,
they challenge dutie then by law,
Such dutie as kills not true loue.
They haue, quoth hee, a kinde of sway,
on these our earthly bodies heere:
But with our soules deale not they may,
the God of loue doth hold them deere.
Hee is most meet to rule true loue.
on these our earthly bodies heere:
But with our soules deale not they may,
the God of loue doth hold them deere.
Hee is most meet to rule true loue.
I know, said shee, tis worse then hell,
when Parents choyse must please our eyes:
Great hurt comes thereby, I can tell,
forc'd loue in desperate danger dies.
Fayre mayde, then fancie thy true loue.
when Parents choyse must please our eyes:
Great hurt comes thereby, I can tell,
forc'd loue in desperate danger dies.
Fayre mayde, then fancie thy true loue.
If wee, quoth hee, might see the houre,
of that sweet state which neuer ends,
Our heauenly gree might haue the power,
to make our Parents as deere freends.
All rancour yeelds to soueraine loue.
of that sweet state which neuer ends,
Our heauenly gree might haue the power,
to make our Parents as deere freends.
All rancour yeelds to soueraine loue.
Then God of loue, sayd shee, consent,
and shew some wonder of thy power:
Our Parents, and our owne content,
may be confirmde by such an houre,
Graunt greatest God to further loue.
and shew some wonder of thy power:
Our Parents, and our owne content,
may be confirmde by such an houre,
Graunt greatest God to further loue.
The Fathers, who did alwayes tend,
when thus they got theyr priuate walke,
As happy fortune chaunc'd to send,
vnknowne to each, heard all this talke.
Poore soules to be so crost in loue.
when thus they got theyr priuate walke,
As happy fortune chaunc'd to send,
vnknowne to each, heard all this talke.
Poore soules to be so crost in loue.
Behind the hills whereon they sate,
they lay this while and listned all:
And were so mooued both thereat,
that hate in each began to fall.
Such is the power of sacred loue.
they lay this while and listned all:
And were so mooued both thereat,
that hate in each began to fall.
Such is the power of sacred loue.
They shewed themselues in open sight,
poore Louers, Lord how they were mazde?
And hand in hand the Fathers plight,
whereat (poore harts) they gladly gazde.
Hope now begins to further loue.
poore Louers, Lord how they were mazde?
And hand in hand the Fathers plight,
whereat (poore harts) they gladly gazde.
Hope now begins to further loue.
And to confirme a mutuall band
of loue, that at no time should ceasse:
They likewise ioyned hand in hand,
the Sheepheard and the Sheepheardesse.
Like fortune still befall true loue.
of loue, that at no time should ceasse:
They likewise ioyned hand in hand,
the Sheepheard and the Sheepheardesse.
Like fortune still befall true loue.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
The Wood-mans walke.
Through a faire Forrest as I wentvpon a Sommers day,
I met a Wood-man queint and gent,
yet in strange aray.
I meruail'd much at his disguise,
whom I did know so well:
But thus in tearmes both graue and wise,
his minde he gan to tell.
Friend, muse not at this fond aray,
but list a while to me:
For it hath holpe me to suruay
what I shall shew to thee.
Long liu'd I in this Forrest faire,
till wearie of my weale:
Abroade in walks I would repaire,
as now I will reueale.
My first dayes walke was to the Court,
where Beautie fed mine eyes:
Yet sound I that the Courtly sport,
did maske in she disguise.
For falshood sate in fairest lookes,
and friend to friend was coy:
Court-fauour fill'd but empty bookes,
and there I found no ioy.
Desert went naked in the cold,
when crouching craft was fed:
Sweet words were cheapely bought and sold,
but none that stood in sted,
Wit was imployed for each mans owne,
plaine meaning came too short:
made me forsake the Court.
Vnto the Citty next I went,
in hope of better hap:
Where liberally I launch'd and spent,
as set on Fortunes lap.
The little stock I had in store,
me thought would nere be done:
Friends slockt about me more and more,
as quickly lost as wone.
For when I spent, they then were kinde,
but when my purse did faile:
The formost man came last behinde,
thus loue with wealth doth quaile.
Once more for footing yet I stroue,
although the world did frowne:
But they before that held me vp,
together troad me downe.
And least once more I should arise,
they sought my quite decay:
Then got I into this disguise,
and thence I stole away.
And in my minde (me thought) I saide,
Lord blesse me from the Cittie:
Where simplenes is thus betraide,
and no remorce or pittie.
Yet would I not giue ouer so,
but once more trie my fate:
And to the Country then I goe,
to liue in quiet state.
There did appeare no subtile showes,
but yea and nay went smoothly:
But Lord how Country-folks can glose,
when they speake most soothly.
More craft was in a buttond cap,
and in an old wiues rayle:
Then in my life it was my hap,
to see on Downe or Dale.
but vnder-handed gleaning:
Which they call Country pollicie,
but hath a worser meaning.
Some good bold-face beares out the wrong,
because he gaines thereby:
The poore mans back is crackt ere long,
yet there he lets him lye.
And no degree among them all,
but had such close intending:
That I vpon my knees did fall,
and prayed for their amending.
Back to the vvoods I got againe,
in minde perplexed sore:
Where I found ease of all this paine,
and meane to stray no more.
There, Citty, Court, nor Country too,
can any way annoy me:
But as a vvood-man ought to doo,
I freely may imploy me.
There liue I quietly alone,
and none to trip my talke:
Wherefore when I am dead and gone,
think on the Wood-mans walke.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
The Sheepheards Sunne.
Faire Nimphs, sit ye heere by me,
on this flowrie greene:
While we this merrie day doo see,
some things but sildome seene.
Sheepheards all, now come sit a-round,
on yond checquerd plaine:
While from the vvoods we heere resound,
some come for Loues paine.
Euery bird sits on his bowe,
As brag as he that is the best:
Then sweet Loue, reueale howe
our minds may be acrest?
Eccho thus replyed to mee,
Sit vnder yonder Beechen tree,
And there Loue shall shew thee
how all may be redrest.
on this flowrie greene:
While we this merrie day doo see,
some things but sildome seene.
Sheepheards all, now come sit a-round,
on yond checquerd plaine:
While from the vvoods we heere resound,
some come for Loues paine.
Euery bird sits on his bowe,
As brag as he that is the best:
Then sweet Loue, reueale howe
our minds may be acrest?
Sit vnder yonder Beechen tree,
And there Loue shall shew thee
how all may be redrest.
Harke, harke, harke the Nightingale,
in her mourning lay:
Shee tells her stories wofull tale,
to warne yee if shee may.
Faire maydes, take yee heede of loue,
it is a perlous thing:
As Philomele her selfe did proue,
abused by a King.
If Kings play false, beleeue no men,
That make a seemely outward show:
But caught once, beware then,
for then begins your woe.
They will looke babies in your eyes,
And speake so faire as faire may be:
But trust them in no wise,
example take by mee.
in her mourning lay:
Shee tells her stories wofull tale,
to warne yee if shee may.
Faire maydes, take yee heede of loue,
it is a perlous thing:
As Philomele her selfe did proue,
abused by a King.
If Kings play false, beleeue no men,
That make a seemely outward show:
But caught once, beware then,
for then begins your woe.
They will looke babies in your eyes,
And speake so faire as faire may be:
But trust them in no wise,
example take by mee.
Fie, fie, said the Threstle-cocke,
you are much too blame:
For one mans fault, all men to blot,
impayring theyr good name.
Admit you were vsde amisse,
by that vngentle King,
It followes not that you for this,
should all mens honours wring.
There be good, and there be bad,
And some are false, and some are true:
As good choyse is still had
amongst vs men, as you.
Women haue faultes as well as wee,
Some say for our one, they haue three.
Then smite not, no bite not,
when you as faultie be.
you are much too blame:
For one mans fault, all men to blot,
impayring theyr good name.
Admit you were vsde amisse,
by that vngentle King,
It followes not that you for this,
should all mens honours wring.
There be good, and there be bad,
And some are false, and some are true:
As good choyse is still had
amongst vs men, as you.
Women haue faultes as well as wee,
Some say for our one, they haue three.
Then smite not, no bite not,
when you as faultie be.
Peace, peace, quoth Madge-Howlet then,
sitting out of sight:
For women are as good as men,
and both are good alike.
Not so, said the little Wrenne,
difference there may be:
The Cocke alway commaunds the Henne
then men shall goe for mee.
Then Robbin-Redbrest stepping in,
Would needs take vp this tedious strife,
Protesting, true-louing,
In eyther lengthened life.
If I loue you, and you loue mee,
Can there be better harmonie?
Thus ending, contending,
Loue must the vmpiere be.
sitting out of sight:
For women are as good as men,
and both are good alike.
Not so, said the little Wrenne,
difference there may be:
The Cocke alway commaunds the Henne
then men shall goe for mee.
Then Robbin-Redbrest stepping in,
Would needs take vp this tedious strife,
Protesting, true-louing,
In eyther lengthened life.
If I loue you, and you loue mee,
Can there be better harmonie?
Thus ending, contending,
Loue must the vmpiere be.
Faire Nimphs, Loue must be your guide,
chast, vnspotted loue:
To such as doe your thralles betyde,
resolu'de without remoue.
Likewise iolly Sheepheard Swaines
if you doe respect,
The happy issue of your paines,
true loue must you direct.
You heare the birds contend for loue.
The bubling springs do sing sweet loue,
The Mountaines and Fountaines
do Eccho nought but loue.
Take hands then Nimphes & Sheepheards all,
And to this Riuers musiques fall
Sing true loue, and chast loue
begins our Festiuall.
chast, vnspotted loue:
To such as doe your thralles betyde,
resolu'de without remoue.
Likewise iolly Sheepheard Swaines
if you doe respect,
The happy issue of your paines,
true loue must you direct.
You heare the birds contend for loue.
The bubling springs do sing sweet loue,
The Mountaines and Fountaines
do Eccho nought but loue.
Take hands then Nimphes & Sheepheards all,
And to this Riuers musiques fall
Sing true loue, and chast loue
begins our Festiuall.
FINIS.
Shep. Tonie.
| Poems from Englands Helicon (1600) | |