The Poetry of George Wither Edited by Frank Sidgwick |
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 | The Poetry of George Wither |  |
No sooner had the shepherd Philaret
To this description his last period set,
But instantly, descending from a wood,
Which on a rising ground adjoining stood,
A troop of satyrs, to the view of all,
Came dancing of a new-devised brawl.
The measures they did pace by him were taught them,
Who to so rare a gentleness had brought them,
That he had learned their rudeness an observing
Of such respect unto the well-deserving
As they became to no men else a terror,
But such as did persist in wilful error,
And they the ladies made no whit afeard,
Though since that time they some great men have scar'd.
To this description his last period set,
But instantly, descending from a wood,
Which on a rising ground adjoining stood,
A troop of satyrs, to the view of all,
Came dancing of a new-devised brawl.
The measures they did pace by him were taught them,
Who to so rare a gentleness had brought them,
That he had learned their rudeness an observing
Of such respect unto the well-deserving
As they became to no men else a terror,
But such as did persist in wilful error,
And they the ladies made no whit afeard,
Though since that time they some great men have scar'd.
Their dance the Whipping of Abuse they named;
And though the shepherd, since that, hath been blamed,
Yet now 'tis daily seen in every town,
And there's no country dance that's better known,
Nor that hath gain'd a greater commendation
'Mongst those that love an honest recreation.
149
Yet now 'tis daily seen in every town,
And there's no country dance that's better known,
Nor that hath gain'd a greater commendation
'Mongst those that love an honest recreation.
This scene presented, from a grove was heard
A set of viols; and there was prepared
A country banquet, which this shepherd made
To entertain the ladies in the shade.
And 'tis suppos'd his song prolonged was
Of purpose, that it might be brought to pass;
So well it was perform'd, that each one deem'd
The banquet might the city have beseem'd.
Yet better was their welcome than their fare,
Which they perceiv'd, and the merrier were.
A set of viols; and there was prepared
A country banquet, which this shepherd made
To entertain the ladies in the shade.
And 'tis suppos'd his song prolonged was
Of purpose, that it might be brought to pass;
So well it was perform'd, that each one deem'd
The banquet might the city have beseem'd.
Yet better was their welcome than their fare,
Which they perceiv'd, and the merrier were.
One beauty, tho', there sat amongst the rest,
That look'd as sad as if her heart opprest
With love had been. Whom Philaret beholding
Sit so demurely, and her arms enfolding,
“Lady,” quoth he, “am I, or this poor cheer,
The cause that you so melancholy are?
For, if the object of your thoughts be higher,
It fits nor me to know them, nor inquire.
But if from me it cometh that offends,
I seek the cause, that I may make amends.”
That look'd as sad as if her heart opprest
With love had been. Whom Philaret beholding
Sit so demurely, and her arms enfolding,
“Lady,” quoth he, “am I, or this poor cheer,
The cause that you so melancholy are?
For, if the object of your thoughts be higher,
It fits nor me to know them, nor inquire.
But if from me it cometh that offends,
I seek the cause, that I may make amends.”
“Kind swain,” said she, “it is nor so, nor so.
No fault in you, nor in your cheer I know.
Nor do I think there is a thought in me
That can too worthy of your knowledge be.
Nor have I, many a day, more pleasure had
Than here I find, though I have seemed sad.
No fault in you, nor in your cheer I know.
Nor do I think there is a thought in me
That can too worthy of your knowledge be.
Nor have I, many a day, more pleasure had
150
“My heart is sometimes heavy when I smile;
And when I grieve I often sing the while.
Nor is it sadness that doth me possess,
But rather musing with much seriousness
Upon that multitude of sighs and tears,
With those innumerable doubts and fears
Through which you passed ere you could acquire
A settled hope of gaining your desire.
For you dared love a nymph so great and fair
As might have brought a prince unto despair;
And sure the excellency of your passions
Did then produce as excellent expressions.
And when I grieve I often sing the while.
Nor is it sadness that doth me possess,
But rather musing with much seriousness
Upon that multitude of sighs and tears,
With those innumerable doubts and fears
Through which you passed ere you could acquire
A settled hope of gaining your desire.
For you dared love a nymph so great and fair
As might have brought a prince unto despair;
And sure the excellency of your passions
Did then produce as excellent expressions.
“If, therefore, me the suit may well become,
And if to you it be not wearisome,
In name of all these ladies I entreat
That one of those sad strains you would repeat
Which you compos'd when greatest discontent
Unsought-for help to your invention lent.”
And if to you it be not wearisome,
In name of all these ladies I entreat
That one of those sad strains you would repeat
Which you compos'd when greatest discontent
Unsought-for help to your invention lent.”
“Fair nymph,” said Philaret, “I will do so.
For, though your shepherd doth no courtship know,
He hath humanity, and what's in me
To do you service may commanded be.”
For, though your shepherd doth no courtship know,
He hath humanity, and what's in me
To do you service may commanded be.”
So, taking down a lute that near him hung,
He gave 't his boy, who played, whilst this he sung.
He gave 't his boy, who played, whilst this he sung.
| The Poetry of George Wither | |