University of Virginia Library

THE CVCKOE, AND PHILOMEL.

CRAIGE to his Riuall.

The Cucko once (some say) would Philomel assaile,
Arachne-like, if shee or shee in singing should preuaile:
The garrient Goke would needs with Prognes sister striue,
And proudly prease poore Philomel of dew praise to depriue
Then was the long eard Asse made Iudge vnto their Song,
Who with the Cucko sentence gaue, & wrought the other wrong.
O Arbiter vnfit to such discording tunes,
Yet iarring notes from Layis diuine rude Nature still seiuns.
This mak's poore Philomel repent, and oft repeit,
In thornie braiks by sabill night th' Arcadian beasts decreit.
Such is my carefull case, my riuall foe I see,
For all these charming Songs of mine is farr preferd to mee:
For al the Sonnets sweet that I can sing or say,
Or send to her, I cum no speid, the Cucko is my stay:
And shee whom still I serue, most like that long eard beast,
Maks mee by her decreit to leue inglorious and disgrac't.
But what remeid I rest, content to want reward,
Since Cuckoes are in such accompt, and Philomel debard.
Since Phœbus stoops to Pan, and Minerue glad to yeild
Vnto th' inuennomd Spiders webb, I gladly loose the feild,
Yet shall I still complaine, nay shall shee heir mee cry,
The Philomel sings to her selfe, and hencefoorth so shall I.

APOLOGIE FOR HIS RIVAL.

The Cucko once (tis trew) in singing, did compare
With Prognes sister Philomel, Pandions daughter faire:
And then the Asine graue, pronounc'd a sentence trew,
For many arguments, of which fond Riual read those few.
The Cucko with sweet songs saluts the yeerly Spring,
Poore Philomel in tragic tunes of Terens wrongs doth sing.
Through tops of tallest trees the soaring Cucko flies,
While Philomel in lowest shrubs complains, dispairs, & dies.
The Cuckoes not's declare of humane life the date,
While hart-broke Philomel must still her painefull plaints repeate.
The Cucko sings her name, no borrowed note nor strange,
While Philomel for Itis blood, a thousand tunes must change.
The Titling doth attend the Cucko late and aire,
And of her egs and Plumeles birds she taks continuall care,
None tends poore Philomel, for all her charms and chrils,
Yea if she fleip, the poynted thorne out-through her breist-bone thrils
The Cucko spends the Spring in mirth both eue and morne,
And to the ielus heirar still portends the forked Horne.
At Iunoes sute great Ioue became a Cucko faire:
Why shuld the brood of Grecian Kings, with Gods aboue compaire?
Then Phœbus stoope to Pan, be Minerue glad to yeeild
Vnto th' inuennomd Spiders web, for thou must loose the feild:
And thou must be content to weepe, and want reward,
Since Cuckoes are in such accompt, and Philomel debard.
Thou to thy selfe complains, alone thou weepes and murns,
Do so poore soule till fortune change, whose sauour goes by turns.

APPELLATION TO THE LION.

The Lion some time went abraode to spy his pray,
And with the Fox he made the Asse cōpanions of his way,
Through wildsome wayles wayes & foraine fells they fare,
To find some food, which sound, the Asse wold needs diuide & share,
And thus triparts the pray, and sets his terce aside:
Yet died therefore; iust punishment of ignorance and pride.
But lo the fraudfull Fox did greeid and greife disgyse,
And by the Asins miserie with wealth of wils was wyse,
Now neither perrils past, nor no examples new,
Can mooue the Asins of this age; O damn'd iudocil crew:
That long eaird beast my Iudge hath made my riuall sleepe,
Fools concolor in fauours lap, while I poore wretch must weepe.
Then Lion great of Kings, and King of Lions all,
To thee my Soueraigne and my Iudge, I do appeale and call:
Thou heares and sees my wrongs, thou must dread Leige alone
Correct the Cucko, and detrude the Asine from his throne.
I like Xantippus Dogg, haue faund and followed thee,
And will thou suffer mee in sight of Salamin to die.
It greeues my heart to see those Cuckoes of the Spring,
Those tamed beasts, whom Bion haits, what flattering tunes they sing.
I burst when I behold braue Homers Cloake so bare,
When eu'ry foole & simple sheepe the golden fleece doth weare
To thee alone I flie, in hope to find refuge:
Why should the leaud and lasie Asse to numered lyus be Iuge?
My Fortune and my Fate do both depend on thee,
My Spring expireth, shall I sing, or shall I silent bee?
Set downe thy sentence heir, and quickly cure my care,
Or let my wretched life take end twixt silence and dispare.